et his head down, and
wrapping his cloak on his arm, he rushed at my cousin, almost
overbearing him for the moment. He broke within Wat's guard, and the
swords of the rogue's companions had been in his heart, but just then
Lochinvar gave them another taste of his quality. Lightly leaping to the
side just out of the measure of the varlet's thrust, and reaching
sideways, he struck the man heavily on the shoulder with the dagger in
his left hand, panting with the force of the blow, so that he fell down
like the dead. At the same moment Wat leaned far forward, engaging all
the points of the other swords with his rapier.

They gave back at the quick unexpected attack, and the points of their
swords rose, as it seemed, for no more than a second. But in that
pulse-beat Wat's rapier shot out straight and low, and yet another
clapped his hand upon his body and cried an oath, ere he too fell
forward upon his dead companions. At this the little man, who had stood
all the while in the background, took heart of grace and came forward,
and I could see the hilt of the steel-pistol in his hand. He crouched
low upon his hams, trying to get a sighting shot at us. But I had him
clear in the moonbeam, like a pullet on a dyke; and just when I saw his
forefinger twitch on the hammer-pull, I dropped him with a bullet fair
in the shoulder, which effectually spoilt his aim, and tumbled him
beside the others.

Then the remaining two threw down their tools and ran, whatever they
were fit, in the direction of the town.

Whereat Walter Gordon with much philosophy straiked his sword on the
lapel of one of the dead men's coats, bent its point to the pavement to
try its soundness, and returned it to its velvet sheath. Then he
solemnly turned and took me by the hand.

"You are a man, Cousin William," he said.

CHAPTER XVI.

THE GREY MOWDIEWORT.

But by this time I was shaking like a leaf for fear, together with the
thought of what I had done in the taking of life, and the sending of my
fellow-creatures to their account. Also the tears came hopping down my
cheek, which is ever the effect that fighting has on me. Yet in spite of
this weakness Wat shook me again by the hand, and said only:

"You are a man!"

Notwithstanding, I was not cheered, but continued to greet like a bairn,
only quietly, though I was grateful for his words, and took them not
ill.

Then Walter Gordon went forward to the dead men, and turned them over,
looking at