ed, and whose swords had wounded him severely in
four places.

That blow was the last he could give, for, faint from loss of blood, the
effort was too great; he overreached himself, stumbled and fell prone
upon the polished floor. The moment before, his enemies were retiring,
but at the sight of the fallen officer one of the men raised a joyous
shout, and half a dozen charged back to make him prisoner.

It was at that moment Scarlett saw the great danger, and boy as he was,
rushed to the rescue, striking out boldly as he leaped across his
father, and keeping the enemy at bay.

The odds were absurd, and the men were only kept back by the suddenness
and dash of the youth's attack. Then, with a laugh of derision, they
were about to seize both, when a warning shout reached them, and they
rushed away to avoid the onslaught of the terrible enemy against which
their weapons were of no avail.

Scarlett saw the danger, and cowered down over his father as a wave of
flame was wafted above their heads, fortunately for them a current of
air keeping off the next just long enough for him to seize Sir Godfrey
by the wrists and drag him back into the centre of the hall, the
polished boards rendering the task an easy one.

"Escape, Scarlett. I am spent," said Sir Godfrey, faintly.

"What! and leave you, father?" cried Scarlett, excitedly.

"Yes. You cannot get away here for the fire. Run upstairs, my boy,
quick--leap from one of the windows."

"If you will come with me, father," said Scarlett.

"No, no, my boy; I am helpless. Make haste. The fire--for Heaven's
sake, make haste!"

The flames and their accompanying suffocating fumes advanced so fast
that for the moment the terrible peril unnerved Scarlett. The natural
inclination was to flee, and he received an additional impulse from his
father's words, which in their tone of urgent command made him dash
half-way up the broad staircase before he checked himself, turned
sharply, with one bound leaped down again to the floor, and ran to Sir
Godfrey's side.

"Father, I can't leave you to be burned to death," he cried. "It is too
horrible."

"Horrible? Yes," panted the wounded man; "but I can do nothing, my boy;
and you--you are so young. The poor old Hall--the poor old Hall!"

For a few moments Scarlett knelt beside his father, suffocating in the
gathering smoke, and looking about wildly for a way of escape, but
finding none; for the defenders had taken such precau