ght
make a suggestion, sir, I think we ought to approach all the five
entrances at once, so to speak. One of us should go to the door and
one to each window; Macbride here has a ladder for the upper
window."

Mr. Horne Fisher languidly turned to his distinguished relative and
spoke for the first time.

"I am rather a convert to the cockney school of psychology," he said
in an almost inaudible voice.

The others seemed to feel the same influence in different ways, for
the group began to break up in the manner indicated. Morton moved
toward the window immediately in front of them, where the hidden
outlaw had just snuffed the candle; Nolan, a little farther westward
to the next window; while Wilson, followed by Macbride with the
ladder, went round to the two windows at the back. Sir Walter Carey
himself, followed by his secretary, began to walk round toward the
only door, to demand admittance in a more regular fashion.

"He will be armed, of course," remarked Sir Walter, casually.

"By all accounts," replied Horne Fisher, "he can do more with a
candlestick than most men with a pistol. But he is pretty sure to
have the pistol, too."

Even as he spoke the question was answered with a tongue of thunder.
Morton had just placed himself in front of the nearest window, his
broad shoulders blocking the aperture. For an instant it was lit
from within as with red fire, followed by a thundering throng of
echoes. The square shoulders seemed to alter in shape, and the
sturdy figure collapsed among the tall, rank grasses at the foot of
the tower. A puff of smoke floated from the window like a little
cloud. The two men behind rushed to the spot and raised him, but he
was dead.

Sir Walter straightened himself and called out something that was
lost in another noise of firing; it was possible that the police
were already avenging their comrade from the other side. Fisher had
already raced round to the next window, and a new cry of
astonishment from him brought his patron to the same spot. Nolan,
the Irish policeman, had also fallen, sprawling all his great length
in the grass, and it was red with his blood. He was still alive when
they reached him, but there was death on his face, and he was only
able to make a final gesture telling them that all was over; and,
with a broken word and a heroic effort, motioning them on to where
his other comrades were besieging the back of the tower. Stunned by
these rapid and repeated shocks, th