random blow the Major fell and was kicked and trampled upon by unseen
feet; yet he staggered up in the dark, his long arms closed in
relentless grip, his iron fingers sought and found a hold that never
loosed even when he fell and rolled again beneath those unseen,
trampling feet. Little by little the ghastly sounds of conflict died
away and in their place was again the roar and shriek of wind.

"Zebedee--Sergeant Zeb!"

"Thank God!" a hoarse voice panted. "A moment sir--must have--light.
Hot work your honour--never ask for warmer!" After some delay the
Sergeant contrived to light his lanthorn; and the Major, looking into
the face of the man he held, loosed his grip and got to his feet.

"'Tis him they call the Captain!" said the Sergeant, flashing his light.

"Pray God I haven't killed him!" the Major panted, clasping one hand to
his side.

"'Twould but save the hangman a job, sir. Lord! but you're ripped and
tore, sir!" The Major glanced from his disordered dress to the
Sergeant's bloody face:

"Are you hurt, Zeb?" he questioned.

"Nought to matter, sir. Look'ee, here lies the rogue Jerry--zounds,
and a-coming to already! Hold the light, sir--may as well tie him up
nice and comfortable."

"And this other fellow too, Zeb--he's stirring, I'm glad to see----"

"Glad sir? Zooks, 'tis pity you didn't kill him----"

"Nay, I'll ha' no killing, Zebedee----"

"Zounds sir, why so queasy-stomached nowadays? 'Tain't as if you'd
never----"

"Enough, Sergeant! I'm no longer a soldier and besides--things
are--are different quite--nowadays."

"Why look'ee sir, where's t'others? Here be but two o' the rogues----"

"Only two, Zeb?--give me the lanthorn!" By its light they searched the
mill inside and out; gruesome signs of the vicious struggle they found
in plenty but, save themselves and their two groaning captives, the
place was empty.

"'Tis mortal hard," mourned the Sergeant, "here's me i' the dark,
seemingly a-knocking of 'em all down one arter t'other, continual.
Yet, 'spite said zeal here's but two to show for same, sure enough."

"Why then we must after 'em, Zeb!" said the Major with a sudden sharp
catch of the breath. "Go fetch the horses!" Forthwith Sergeant
Zebedee hurried away and, left alone, the Major, leaning against the
wall, set a hand to his side and kept it there until the Sergeant
reappeared, leading their horses.

"You picked up my pistols, Zeb?"

"And put 'em back i' the holste