fierce turmoil the door of their prison was
burst open, and Tecumah, leaping in, seized Constance in his arms, while
a companion took charge of the count, and hurried him off.

"I promised to save you or perish," said the Indian. "We had a hard
matter to enter the fort, and it will be no less difficult to escape;
but I have succeeded thus far, and trust to place you in safety."

These words were uttered hurriedly, as Tecumah, surrounded by a faithful
band, was fighting his way across the fort, in all parts of which a
furious battle was raging; the Portuguese and their Indian allies, the
Tuparas, having forced an entrance, being engaged with the French and
Tamoyos, who were struggling desperately for life.

Bullets were whizzing and arrows flying in all directions; the fierce
shouts and shrieks of the combatants sounding above the clash of steel
and the rattle of musketry. Numbers and discipline favoured the
Portuguese, who had well trained their native allies, while the French
mistrusted each other, and had but little confidence in the natives,
who, however, were gallantly doing their utmost to assist them, headed
by their brave chief, Tuscarora. Tecumah and his faithful band had but
one object in view, to rescue Constance and her father. Like a wedge,
with their most stalwart warriors in the van, they fought their way
through the mass of foes entering the fort towards the outlet which had
allowed the latter ingress. Several of their number fell; scarcely one
escaped a wound. Still Constance was untouched. Often they were almost
overwhelmed. Still on they went, their track marked by the bodies of
their foes, and many of their own party. The gateway was reached.
Constance felt Tecumah stagger. A fear seized her that he had received
a wound; but no cry escaped him, and, recovering himself, he bore her
onwards. Scarcely had they emerged into the open, when they encountered
a fresh party of the Portuguese. The Tamoyos halted for a moment to
draw their bows, and not a shaft failed to pierce a foe, the shower of
bullets, which came in return, passing mostly over their heads.

"On! on!" shouted Tecumah, though his voice no longer rang with its
usual clear tone.

Constance observed with grief that he was faint and hoarse. His band,
obeying him, turned round and shot their arrows as they advanced.
Scarcely, however, had they moved forward, when the Portuguese, seeing
the handful of men opposed to them, fiercely