tes
should have time to realise what had happened. But they reckoned
without one of the said inmates.

The magazine rifle spoke, and a bedizened warrior flung his shield in
the air and plunged forward upon his face. Another followed suit--then
another. A magazine rifle, accurately handled, is a terror, and so the
assailants realised as a third went to ground, and then a fourth, and
all in a moment's space. With a loud cry of startled warning they
halted, then dropped down into the cover of the bushes and stones, yet
not before the marksman, detecting a momentary bunching of the crowd,
had let go another shot, this time with more deadly effect still.

"What's the bag, Lamont?" cried Peters, with a laugh, though still
panting with his run.

"Five, for cert. I think two or three more are damaged as well. Fired
into the brown that last time."

"Well done--well done. Now I'm going to take a hand;" and diving into
the house he quickly opened the armoury chest, of which he had a
duplicate key, and produced a weapon exactly similar to Lamont's.

"Hallo, Ancram, you back again?" he cried in hurried greeting to that
worthy. "Now you're going to see that fight you were spoiling for,"
going to the window which commanded the point of attack. "Oh, blazes!
The devils ain't going to give us a show after all."

For the enemy seemed to have vanished into empty air. Yet both knew
that they were lying there meditating on the situation. Lamont's prompt
and accurate shooting had been of incalculable moral effect; and that
one man, standing out in the open, should be able to do such execution,
all with the same gun and not even pausing to reload, was not less so.
Would that gun go on shooting for ever? was what they were asking
themselves.

"Dig us out a drink, Lamont, while I keep an eye on our black brother,"
said Peters. "My tongue's hanging out after that run, I can tell you."

"That holds good of all hands, I guess," was the answer; and Ancram,
after a considerable stiff dose, began to grow valiant and hold the
fighting qualities of the concealed foe exceeding cheap.

"Don't crow yet, Ancram," said Peters grimly. "These are only the
advance guard of a much bigger lot. You'll get all you want of them
before to-night."

"No! Why d'you think that?" and even the abundant infusion of Dutch
courage was not quite abundant enough to stifle the anxiety underlying
the query.

"Because--Ah! There you are! I thought so