nto it. Her father begged that
he might send to his house for such necessaries as his daughter
required, but his request was roughly refused. It was not without
difficulty even that he obtained some matting, and a few armfuls of
rushes on which she might rest.

"Lie down, my child," said the count to Constance, when they were at
length left alone. "We will not altogether despair, but look to Him who
is always ready to protect us. You require rest; and we know not what
we may have to go through."

Constance obeyed her father, while he continued pacing up and down the
narrow space allowed him, to collect his thoughts. He harboured no
ill-feeling towards his persecutors, but, following the example of his
Master, he prayed for their forgiveness, while he looked forward with
joy, rather than fear, to the time when he should be welcomed into His
presence. He knew, too, that his beloved daughter, should her life be
taken, would bear him company to that home where their Saviour had gone
before to prepare a place for all those who love Him.

The night passed on. Constance was sleeping. Still the count felt no
desire to lie down and rest. The whole fort seemed wrapped in silence,
except when the voice of a distant sentry reached his ear. The silence
was suddenly broken by a shot fired from the fort. Others followed in
rapid succession. Then arose loud shouts and shrieks, and the Indian
warwhoop rising above all others. Constance started from her slumbers,
and clung to her father. The noises grew louder and louder.

"The fort is attacked. The enemy are scaling the walls!" exclaimed the
count. "Both parties are fighting desperately. Constance, there is
hope for us, for even the Portuguese would scarcely wish to injure those
who are unable to oppose them."

The sounds of strife increased. The count could with difficulty judge
how the fight was going. Supporting his daughter on his arm, he awaited
the issue. The great guns roared, the bullets rattled, and presently
there came an uproar which showed that the assailants had gained the
fort, and the shriek and cries of the combatants, and other sounds of a
desperate struggle, approached their prison. Just at that juncture the
warwhoops of apparently a fresh party burst forth within the fort. The
count recognised the cry as that of the Tamoyos. On they came from the
opposite side of the fort, and the battle seemed to rage hotter than
ever. In the midst of the