"Feint for the front entrance and then run for the

terrace and the library-door," he commanded, as we

crossed the little ravine bridge. "They've got us headed

off."

Twice the guns boomed behind us, and twice I saw

shot cut into the snow about me.

"I'm all right," called Stoddard reassuringly, still

at my back. "They're not a bit anxious to kill me."

I was at the top of my speed now, but the clergyman

kept close at my heels. I was blowing hard, but he

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made equal time with perfect ease.

The sheriff was bawling orders to his forces, who

awaited us before the front door. Bates and Larry were

not visible, but I had every confidence that the Irishman

would reappear in the fight at the earliest moment

possible. Bates, too, was to be reckoned with, and the

final struggle, if it came in the house itself, might not

be so unequal, providing we knew the full strength

of the enemy.

"Now for the sheriff-here we go!" cried Stoddard-

beside me-and we were close to the fringe of trees that

shielded the entrance. Then off we veered suddenly to

the left, close upon the terrace, where one of the French

windows was thrown open and Larry and Bates stepped

out, urging us on with lusty cries.

They caught us by the arms and dragged us over

where the balustrade was lowest, and we crowded

through the door and slammed it. As Bates snapped

the bolts Morgan's party discharged its combined artillery

and the sheriff began a great clatter at the front

door.

"Gentlemen, we're in a state of siege," observed

Larry, filling his pipe.

Shot pattered on the wails and several panes of glass

cracked in the French windows.

"All's tight below, sir," reported Bates. "I thought

it best to leave the tunnel trap open for our own use.

Those fellows won't come in that way,-it's too much

like a blind alley."

"Where's your prisoner, Larry?"

"Potato cellar, quite comfortable, thanks!"

It was ten o'clock and the besiegers suddenly withdrew

a short distance for parley among themselves. Outside

the sun shone brightly; and the sky was never bluer.

In this moment of respite, while we made ready for

what further the day might bring forth, I climbed up

to the finished tower to make sure we knew the enemy's

full strength. I could see over the tree-tops, beyond the

chapel tower, the roofs of St. Agatha's. There, at least,

was peace. And in that moment, looking over the black

wood, with the snow lying upon the ice of the lake white

and gleaming under the sun, I felt unutterably lonely

and heart-sick, and tired of strife. It seemed a thousand

years ago that I had walked and talked with the

child Olivia; and ten thousand years more since the

girl in gray at the Annandale station had wakened in

me a higher aim, and quickened a better impulse than I

had ever known.




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