f it. But he had little time to dwell upon the matter for more
footsteps were audible, and a voice grunted words that he did not
catch. He picked up an ax, put it ready to his hand close to the door
and then extinguished the slush-lamp.

The cabin was now full of shadows, though he could still see the girl's
face in the glare of the stove, and marked with satisfaction that it
bore no sign of fear. The position where she stood, however, was not a
safe one, and he was constrained to bid her change it.

"You had better come into the corner here, Miss Yardely. It is out of
range of any chance arrow through the window. That barricade of mine
cannot last long, and they are sure to try the window."

The girl did not answer, but she changed her position, moving to the
corner he had indicated, and just as she did so, two or three blows of
an ax (as he guessed) knocked out the parchment of the window, but the
barricade stood firm. The attack however, continued, and as the
improvised shutter began to yield, Stane raised his rifle.

"There is nothing else for it," he whispered.

The next moment the rifle cracked and the sound was followed by a cry
of pain.

"First blood!" he said, a little grimly.

There was a short lull, then something heavy smashed against the
shutter and it collapsed in the room. As it did so a gun barrel was
thrust in the opening, and a shot was fired apparently at random. The
bullet struck the cabin wall a full two yards from where Helen was
standing. Stane turned to her quickly.

"As close in the corner as you can get, Miss Yardely; then there will
be no danger except from a ricochet."

Helen obeyed him. The excitement of the moment banished her resentment,
and as she watched him standing there, cool and imperturbable as he
waited events, a frank admiration stirred within her. Whatever his
sins, he was a man!

Then came a new form of attack. Arrows fired from different angles
began to fly through the open space, making a vicious sound as they
struck various parts of the cabin. Stane calculated the possible angles
of their flight and gave a short laugh. "They're wasting labour now.
That dodge won't work."

The flight of arrows, however, continued for a little time, then
followed that which Stane had begun to fear. The space of the window
suddenly grew plainer, outlined by a glow outside, and the next moment
three blazing armfuls of combustible material were heaved in at the
window. Stane fired tw