the priest. "Out
wid y'r nonsense, and what good are y' thinkin' ye'll do--? Stir your
stumps, y' stoopid spalpeen!"

"Listen," I urged, undisturbed by the tongue-thrashing that stormed
about my ears. In the babel of voices I thought I had heard some one
call my name.

"Run, Rufus! Run for y'r life, boy!" urged Father Holland, apparently
thinking the ruffians had come solely for me.

"Run yourself, Father; run yourself, and see how you like it," and I
tucked the documents inside my coat.

"Divil a bit I'll run," returned the priest.

"Hark!"

The De Meurons' leaders were shouting orders to their men. Above the
screams of people fleeing in terror through passage-ways, came a shrill
bugle-call.

"Go--go--go--Rufus!" begged Father Holland in a paroxysm of fear. "Go!"
he pleaded, pushing me towards the door.

"I won't!" and I jerked away from him. "There, now." I caught up a club
and loaded pistol.

The Nor'-Westers had no time to defend themselves. Almost before my
stubborn defiance was uttered, the building was filled with a mob of
intoxicated De Meurons. Rushing everywhere with fixed bayonets and
cursing at the top of their voices, they threatened death to all
Nor'-Westers. There was a loud scuffling of men forcing their way
through the defended hall downstairs.

"Go, Rufus, go! Think of Frances! Save yourself," urged the priest.

It was too late. I could not escape by the hall. Noisy feet were already
trampling up the stairs and the clank of armed men filled every passage.

"Jee-les-pee! Jee-les-pee! Seven Oaks!" bawled a French voice from the
half-way landing, and a multitude of men with torches dashed up the
stairs. I took a stand to defend myself; for I thought I might be
charged with implication in the massacre.

"Jee-les-pee," roared the voices. "Where is Gillespie?" thundered a
leader.

"That's you, Rufus, lad! Down with you!" muttered the priest. Before I
knew his purpose, he had tripped my feet from under me and knocked me
flat on the floor. Overturning the empty coffin-box, he clapped it above
my whole length, imprisoning me with the snap and celerity of a
mouse-trap. Then I heard the thud of two hundred avoirdupois seating
itself on top of the case. The man above my person had whisked out a
book of prayers, and with lantern on the desk was conning over
devotions, which, I am sure, must have been read with the manual upside
down; for bits of the _pater noster_, service of the mass, and vespe