"You can't tempt me to shoot till I see something to fire at," he said, grimly, watching through the loophole at the underbrush which was merged by the shadows into one single ma.s.s of gloom, amid which not even a movement among the branches could be distinguished.

Two more shots, which caused him to wonder why the Abenakis were growing so active, and then he caught a glimpse of a faint spark in the thicket, which at first sight appeared to him like the glow from an Indian's pipe.

He had raised his musket, intending to fire at the bright spot, when it suddenly increased in size, and, while he stood speculating as to what it could be, a long tongue of flame leaped upward from branch to branch.

No need for speculation now, nor was it well that he stand very much longer on guard, for the terrible truth was all to plain.

The Abenakis had fired the woods, counting on burning the palisade, and thus giving them free entrance for the b.l.o.o.d.y business upon which they had come.

His first thought was to run for water, and then, even before he could make a movement toward the spring, came the realization that it was impossible to effect anything by such a course.

He would not be able to throw water upon the fire in the thicket, even though he exposed himself to full view over the top of the palisade, and this was probably exactly what the Indians hoped he might do.

"It begins to look as if we had about come to an end of the defence, and that nothing remains but to sell our lives as dearly as possible," he said, gloomily, to himself. "Everything around here is as dry as it well can be, and once the fire gains headway, even the houses must go."

Mark descended doggedly from the platform, and as he did so Susan cried, from her post of duty near the gate:

"What is on fire?"

"The Abenakis have started a blaze in the woods."

"Will the fence burn, think you?"

"Ay, when the fire is well under way."

"Can't we do anything toward putting out the blaze?"

"Nothing, unless we want the Indians to shoot us down before we can fire a shot."

"Then what is to be done?" and in her distress Susan leaped down from the platform to approach her cousin.

"Better stay where you are!" the lad cried, warningly. "I don't suppose it will make any great difference to us, and yet we should know if the Frenchmen come ash.o.r.e after seeing the fire."

The girl returned immediately to her station, and even though he was at a considerable distance from her, Mark could hear the choking sob which escaped her lips.

"Keep up a stout heart, Sue; we can make a last stand inside the house."

"Ay, Mark; but it will be the last!"

The lad made no reply; he stood at some distance from the palisade as if trying to decide upon a course of action, and while he thus remained irresolute his mother came from the house.

There was no need that she ask for information; the blaze was so bright by this time that it must have been seen by those on the vessel, and Mistress Pemberton inquired in a low tone, but with no tremor in her voice:

"Are the logs dry?"

"Ay, mother; but it will be some time before the flames can eat in very deeply. We've got fifteen or twenty minutes yet."

"What is to be done?"

"We'll take refuge in the house, and shoot down as many as possible before the fire drives us out."

"If there is nothing more before us, why not come inside now? The Indians can climb up on the posts on either side and shoot you down while you stand here in the light."

"The Frenchmen are coming ash.o.r.e!" Susan cried. "One boat-load has pushed off already!"

"We are going into the house," Mark said, hesitatingly, as if, even now, when prudence demanded that they should seek shelter as soon as possible, he was questioning whether he might effect something by remaining in the open.

"But if we don't stand guard the Indians will soon be over the fence," the girl cried, nervously.

"Ay, and if you stand there in the glow of the fire they can creep up under cover of the shadows to one side or the other, and shoot you down. We've done all we can here, Sue, and the remainder of our fight must be made from the house."

The report of a musket from the southern side of the stockade, and the humming of a bullet close beside Susan's head, gave emphasis to the lad's words, causing the sentinel to obey without further parley.

Once inside the dwelling, with the door strongly barred, the older members of the little party strove to appear unconcerned, each hoping to cheer the other, and at no time since the island was besieged did they display more courage than now, when there seemed no ray of hope remaining.

Through the crevices of the logs and the window-shutters could be seen the glow of the flames, which were increasing each instant, fanned as they were by short, furious gusts of wind which came from the gathering clouds.

"We must get under the roof, where I made the loopholes," Mark said to Susan and Luke. "There's no question but that the Indians will make a try at coming over the stockade before the fire has destroyed it, else they have changed their natures completely, and we won't give them full swing, even though we are cooped up here like rats in a trap."

"The boys want water," Ellen, who had been attending to the younger children, said, at this moment, and the elders of the party looked at each other in dismay.

The new danger which confronted them had driven, for the time being, everything else from their minds; but now all realized that, even though they might not be permitted to remain long in that frail refuge, they would suffer severely from thirst before the end came.

"Get into the loft, one on each side, and shoot with good aim if you see a painted face over the fence!" Mark cried, as he took up one of the buckets and went swiftly toward the door.

"You must not go out!" his mother said, as she barred the way. "It is certain by this time that the Abenakis are where they can have a view of the enclosure, and you will be shot down. Better that the children should suffer from thirst."

"We will all soon be needing something to drink, for it's bound to be hot inside here when the palisade catches fire. One bucketful of water will save us a good deal of suffering, and I'm bound to take the chances."

Then, before his mother could prevent him, Mark opened the door, running at full speed to the spring, which was not more than twenty feet distant.

That the Abenakis were on the alert could be told when half a dozen shots were fired in rapid succession; but, fortunately for the defenders of the island, not a bullet took effect, owing to Mark's rapid movements.

To those who were watching him in agonizing suspense from the house, it seemed as if the lad no more than wheeled about when he gained the spring, and then came toward the building in a zigzag course, well calculated to confuse the most skilful marksman.

[Ill.u.s.tration: He reentered the house with a bucket two-thirds full of muddy water.]

He reentered the house with a bucket two-thirds full of muddy water, and, while barring the door, once more said, in a tone of triumph:

"I reckoned it might be done if a fellow used his legs well. That stuff doesn't look fit to drink; but after the mud has settled a bit it will be better than nothing. I am to blame for not cleaning the spring out when I first knew that the children had wasted the supply."

"You have nothing with which to reproach yourself, Mark," his aunt said as she laid her hand affectionately on his shoulder. "You have taken the place of both your father and uncle, and there is not a man grown who could have done more, or better, work."

The lad's face flushed with pleasure at this praise, but he affected to give no heed to the words as he clambered into the loft, musket in hand, calling out when he was on the timbers above:

"Give us the ammunition up here, and we'll load our own guns until the enemy comes too fast."

Mistress Pemberton handed him only a portion of the powder and bullets, after which she stood on the top of a table ready to take the empty weapons when the sharpshooters required her services.