ir, extending his hand--"God reward you
for the timely aid you have this day brought to the defenceless. Look
up, my child, and join your thanks with mine."

Mary Sinclair raised her head from her father's bosom, and lifting her
eyes for an instant to the face of Captain Percy, unclosed her lips to
speak, but voice and words were denied her.

"God bless you, lady!" he exclaimed, as taking her hand he raised it to
his lips, and relinquishing it with one glance of sympathy at the dying,
turned away and passed from the room. He returned once more, but it was
only to leave his pistols with Mr. Sinclair.

"They are loaded, sir, and in such a cause as you needed them just now,
even a Christian minister may use them."

Captain Percy spoke rapidly, only glancing at Mary, who was already
bending with self-forgetful devotion above her mother's pillow, and
before Mr. Sinclair could answer he was gone.

All was again silent in that deserted suburb, and for long hours nothing
disturbed the solemn stillness of the chamber of death, save the low sob
or earnest prayer of parting love, though sounds of tumult had not
ceased wholly in the village. The invaders had been interrupted in their
work of destruction by an alarm from some of their own party of an
approaching foe. They hurried to their ships with mad impetuosity,
conscious that their acts deserved only war to the knife, and that they
were not prepared to cope with any regular force. Only they, who, like
Captain Percy, had held themselves aloof from the brutal barbarities
which they had striven vainly to prevent, were now composed enough to
take any steps for the safety of others. To collect those who had
straggled off was the first business, and while the recall was hastily
beaten, Captain Percy, selecting a small party of men on whom he could
depend, went to patrol the more distant quarters of the town. Having
seen no trace of an enemy on his way to the parsonage, he had somewhat
hastily concluded the alarm to be false, and therefore did not hesitate,
before returning with his pistols to Mr. Sinclair, to send forward his
men in charge of those whom he had found, promising to join them before
they reached the point of embarcation. Without a thought of danger he
traversed the silent and deserted streets on his return, and had arrived
where a single turn would bring him within view of the rallying point of
his companions in arms, when the sound that met his practised ears told