of stone," said Brooke. "They can't burn it."

"But all the inside is of wood," said Talbot--"the floors, the doors,
the machinery, the beams."

Brooke was silent, and watched the preparations outside. These grew
more and more menacing. A great pile of wood was soon collected,
which grew rapidly to more formidable proportions. If these prisoners
hoped for life, they must leave their present hiding-place, and soon,
too; for soon--ah, too soon, if that pile were once kindled--the
flames would pour in, and burn all the inner wood-work, even if the
walls were of stone.

At this moment a man came hurrying forward and burst in among the
crowd.

"What's the meaning of all this nonsense?" he asked, in a stern
voice.

"Why, we're burning the mill," said one of the most active of the
party.

"Fools!" cried the other, "are you mad? It will attract attention. We
shall be seen--perhaps attacked."

"Pooh!" said the man, impudently, "what of that? That's all the
better."

The other laid his hand upon his sword, and looked as though he was
about to use it; but a wild outcry burst forth from all the crowd,
and with an impatient gesture he turned away. By his dress, which was
the only uniform visible, and also by his bearing, he seemed to be
the captain of the band, yet his authority did not seem to receive
any very strong recognition. Still, the sight of this uniform was of
itself encouraging to Brooke, who now at once decided upon the course
which he should adopt. There was no longer time to hesitate. Already
the match was struck, the next moment the flame would be touched to
the kindling, and the fires would blaze up.

So Brooke called in a loud voice,

"Stop! stop! till we come down!"

At this cry they all looked up in amazement. The match dropped from
the hand of the man who held it, and several of the men sprang to
their arms.

"Who goes there?" cried the one who seemed to be the captain.

"Friends," said Brooke; "we'll come down."

Then turning to Talbot, he whispered:

"Now, Talbot, is the time to show the stuff you're made of. Courage,
my boy! courage! Remember, Talbot, you're not a girl now--not a weak
girl, but you're a boy--and an English boy! Remember that, my lad,
for now your life and mine too depend upon you!"

"Don't fear for me," said Talbot, firmly.

"Good!" said Brooke. "Now follow me, and be as cool as a clock, even
if you feel the muzzle of a pistol against your forehead."

With these chee