pike thrust gave a sudden cry and sank on the ground.

"I think," said Lord Dunseveric, "you had better pick up that boy and
walk in front of us. It is possible that our men will cease firing when
they see that Maurice and I are between them and you."

Neal stooped and raised the boy.

"I can walk fine," he said, "if you let me put my arm round your neck."

There was a pause in the fighting. The English infantry drawn up on the
terrace behind the wall would not fire on Lord Dunseveric and his son.
Hope's musketeers in the churchyard watched in silence while the little
procession approached them. Neal, with his arm round the wounded boy,
walked first. Lord Dunseveric, following, drew his snuff-box from
his pocket, tapped it, and took a pinch, drawing the powder into his
nostrils with deliberate enjoyment.

"It seems, Maurice," he said, with a slight smile, "that we are people
of considerable importance. Two armies are looking on while we march to
captivity, and yet we do not appear in a very heroic light. We are the
prisoners of one badly-armed young man and a wounded boy."

"Neal saved us," said Maurice.

"Yes," said Lord Dunseveric, "that is, no doubt, the way to look at it.
We should certainly have been piked if it had not been for Neal."

Neal lifted the wounded boy over the churchyard wall and knelt beside
him on the grass.

"Where are you hit?" he said.

"It's my leg, the calf of my leg, but it's no that bad, I could get
along a bit, yet."

The English infantry opened a furious fire on M'Cracken's pikemen, who
stood around the cannon they captured. Hope's musketeers replied, firing
rapidly. Many of them had fallen. There were muskets to spare, and the
wounded men, crawling round their comrades, loaded for them, and passed
the guns up to those who still could shoot. The whole churchyard was
full of smoke, and a heavy cloud of it hung in the still air before the
wall. It became impossible to see plainly what was happening. Neal was
aware that Felix Matier stood beside him, and that Lord Dunseveric was
somewhere behind him watching, with cool interest, the progress of the
fight. Suddenly Felix Matier shouted--

"We're blinded with this smoke. We must see to shoot. We must see to
aim. Follow me who dare!"

He leaped into the street, and knelt down. The air was clearer there
than in the churchyard. He aimed steadily, fired, loaded, and fired
again. The bullets of the infantry splashed on the ground around