Without an instant's pause, Murray bounded out, gun in hand, closely followed by Wahika, who had now returned, just as, with a shout, the convicts came running towards them. But as they reached Mr Meadows, he had risen to his knees, and begun to limp towards the house.

"Not much hurt; but never mind me; get back."

As he spoke, a couple of shots were fired at the little group, but without effect; and, by being supported on either side, Mr Meadows was enabled to reach the house; the door was rapidly closed, and barricaded; and then he sank into a chair; while, this being different from a surprise, the convicts were seen to pause, and to consult as to the plan of their operations.

"Are you much hurt, parson?" said old Lee gravely.

"No, not much, friend Lee," was the reply. "I don't believe the bullet struck me, only some stones driven up when it hit the ground; but it lamed me for the time. There!" he said, as he finished binding his handkerchief round his leg; "I'm ready now, and we must try the strong hand with them. They made me prisoner, but I knocked down my keepers, and escaped. Thanks, friend Murray!" he continued, taking the gun and its appurtenances offered by the young man. "I'm rather out of practice, but I think I can leg and wing a few of the rascals."

"I think you had better body them!" said old Lee fiercely.

"I don't," said Mr Meadows, priming his piece. "But don't let me interfere with you. Suppose you open the windows on either side the door, my men?" And this being done, he placed a featherbed upon a table, so that it half filled the window, when, resting his piece upon it, he stood ready, his example being followed by the others.

The next instant he took rapid aim, and fired, when a convict, who had been reconnoitring, was seen to drop, and then try to drag himself back to his comrades, who sent a volley at the house in reply.

"There!" said Mr Meadows, coolly reloading; "that was as good as a body-shot, friend Lee. Think I'd aim low, if I were you."

The old man nodded doubtfully, and smiled; when Murray, observing that the men were dividing into two parties, made towards the back of the house, so as to be on the look-out for an attack in that quarter; and it was well he did so, for six men were creeping up under the shade of the trees.

He fired, and one dropped, leaped up, but fell again, to lie motionless; and the young man felt a cold chill run through him as he knew that he had, for the first time, taken a human life.

On turning to reload, he found himself face to face with Kate; and dark as it was, he could make out the agitation depicted in her countenance.

"Go back," he said; "go back, darling!" And, for a moment, he pressed her in his arms, when, yielding to his entreaties, she returned to the inner room, just as half a dozen more shots came whistling through door and window.

"Keep watch here," Murray whispered to one of the shepherds. And the man took his place, while he went to the front, to find that several shots had been exchanged, and that one of the shepherds was bleeding upon the floor.

Just then a tall, burly ruffian rushed forward recklessly, and, shouting to the occupants of the house to give up, if they wished to save their lives, fired another shot, and then turned to join his companions.

"I believe that's the rascal who wounded our poor friend here,"

exclaimed Mr Meadows, firing as he spoke. "No; I've missed him! Legs _are_ hard to hit as they run. Fire low, my friends."

Several of the convicts had fallen, for the besieged kept up a well-sustained fire; and this made the a.s.sailants cautious, for they took shelter behind trees and sheds, firing almost at random, but not without effect; for another shepherd was badly hit, and a groan from the inner room told that mischief was done there. And it was so; for, after a few minutes, Mrs Lee, Katie, and one woman came calmly out, Mrs Lee whispering something to her husband; and then, in answer to entreaties that they would go back, they replied that they were as safe in the front room as elsewhere; and, tearing up some linen, proceeded to bandage the wounds of those who were hurt.

Suddenly, a cry made Murray dart to the back, to find the shepherd struggling with a convict, who had forced his way in, thus giving time for a couple more to enter, when a fierce struggle ensued, ending in two of the men being struck down, and the other beating a retreat; but this episode had been fatal, the besieged having been drawn off just as a daring a.s.sault was made upon the front.

It was in vain that Mr Meadows fired, and then knocked down two who were rushing in over the broken door. The struggle was short, but very fierce, and one after the other the defenders were beaten down, or back from room to room, till, turning for a moment, on hearing a loud cry for help, Murray saw Bray in the act of pa.s.sing through a door, and bounding after him, he was in time to see him drag Katie through the window, and disappear.

The next instant he had followed, but receiving a tremendous blow upon the head, he fell heavily to the ground.

That blow was given by what should have been a friend's hand, but it had an effect that Anthony Bray had not intended. The minute before he had been dragging a timid, yielding girl after him. But now, as in the dim light she saw the dastardly act, a feeling of rage filled Katie's soul; and, tearing herself away, she flung herself upon her knees, lifting the head of Murray gently, and with her handkerchief binding up a severe wound the young man had received.

The place they were in was a sort of outhouse, which had been added to the side of the building, but without the window being filled up; and as Murray climbed out, the cas.e.m.e.nt had swung to again; and it was well for the moment, for having beaten down the little remaining resistance, the convicts spread through the place, seizing the arms and ransacking cupboard and drawer; while old Lee, beaten down, wounded, looked on with agonised countenance; but not alone, for his wife clung to him, turning a defiant face upon the destroyers of her home.

Two men rushed into the chamber, through which Bray had dragged Katie, and concluding that those of whom they were in search had pa.s.sed through a door on the other side, they hurried through that, and disappeared, but only to make their way back into the central room.

Meanwhile, overcoming his surprise at the fierce way in which Katie resisted him, Bray caught her in his arms, and drew her towards the outhouse door.

"Foolish girl! it's for life and liberty! There, I'm stronger than you," he cried, "and if I must use force, I will. Come quietly, Katie-- come. We can reach the horses--mine is there yet--and fly to safety, away from this scene!"

But she struggled fiercely, although the weaker, while he forced her step by step towards the door.

"Little fool!" he hoa.r.s.ely said. "Would you have us both killed?"

"Yes, yes, coward," she cried. "Loose me, or I'll call for help!

Edward! Ned! help me!" she cried loudly; and as he lay just beneath the chamber window, he half raised himself, but only to sink back again with exhaustion.

"You'll have the ruffians upon us, Kate," hissed Bray; and mad with rage, he tried to lift her from the ground, when she again called out, "Ned! Ned! help me! O, help!"

Startled by this sudden outburst, Bray relaxed his hold sufficiently for Katie to tear herself away, and throw herself upon Murray's prostrate body, to which she clung.

But Bray was at her side in an instant, trying again to drag her away, but in vain; when, seizing his rival by the throat, he fiercely whispered in the poor girl's ear, "Come on, or it will be his death!"

"You have killed him now, coward!" cried the girl, vainly tearing at the hand so ruthlessly grasping her lover; when again seizing the opportunity Bray lifted her once more from the floor, and bore her towards the door, but only for there to be a repet.i.tion of the fierce struggle; the light, active girl writhing herself free again, calling upon Ned for the help he was powerless to give, he, poor fellow, responding with a groan, as in the shadowy place he could mistily make out what was going on.

Tearing herself away, Katie was again by the side of Murray, when the cas.e.m.e.nt above her head was suddenly thrown open, a couple of streams of flame flashed across the place, and, with a loud cry, Bray sprang through the door at the other end. The moonbeams shone in for an instant, showing the wreaths of smoke curling slowly upward, and all was once more darkness, while Katie knelt, hardly daring to breathe; her hand, too, pressed upon Murray's lips, lest he should moan, and so betray their whereabouts.

But the next moment her breath was drawn with a sob, for the window swung-to again, and from the rapid beat of footsteps, it was evident that the men who fired had gone round in pursuit of Bray; but apparently in vain, for they soon returned, stopped before the outhouse door, and looked in; but coming from the outer brightness, they saw nothing but the wreathing smoke; and, closing the door violently, hurried on towards the front of the house, where loud talking, and more than once a weak cry for help, fell upon the ears of the poor girl.

Murray had attempted to speak, and then seemed to become inanimate. In her grief, Katie clung to him, calling upon him, in whispers, to speak to her, if but a word, for she felt that he must be dying; and then, forgetful of all but her love, she clasped him fondly, bathing his face with her tears, and kissing him again and again. Then suddenly she started up with affright, for, just above her head, she heard the grating of the cas.e.m.e.nt, as it slowly opened. Then there was a dread pause, broken by the loud talking and quarrelling of the convicts, but a few yards away.

Involuntarily she turned her face towards the open window, trying to pierce the darkness--for the moon had sunk behind the shoulder of the mountain, and in the last few minutes all had become black as night.

But she could see nothing, only hear the sound of hard breathing, as some one leaned out into the place where she crouched, cold and paralysed, but with her mind in a state of fearful activity.

But was it fancy? Had her over-wrought imagination conjured up this new terror? No; it was no fancy, for the window was thrust farther back, and the dread seemed greater than she could bear, as just above her she could feel, as it were, that there was a face stretched out towards her.

STORY THREE, CHAPTER EIGHT.

TRIED BY FIRE.

It might have been but for a few seconds, but the suspense was agonising. Katie felt no fear for herself then: her fear was lest he should be discovered who had been ready to die in her defence--who had been so cruelly smitten down--he to whom, but a few hours before, she had plighted herself, owning to her love, and, for the first time, daring to respond to his kisses. But was it a few hours ago? Was it not years since, or at some time far back in the past, that those happy moments were? Or was this some wild dream--that he, the young, the bright, the true, who had treasured her love for years, and come these thousands of miles to see her--to claim her--was dying in her arms?

The stillness around them was awful; the darkness more and more intense.

Cold as marble, gazing upwards ever at this invisible terror that she knew was there, would it not be better almost to cry out, she thought, and bring down others, so as to end the harrowing suspense that seemed to madden her?

But poor Ned--poor, helpless Ned! If he were not already dead--if he had not even now escaped from the arms that held him so tightly, they would slay him without mercy. No; she must remain silent. Would he move, or even mutter? Her heart gave a bound, for at that moment there was a slight motion in the form she clasped, and this made her turn her head from its strained, unnatural position, so that her cheek fell gently upon Murray's, and then she clung to him cold and motionless, but with strained ears, as she felt that the time for discovery had come.

The cas.e.m.e.nt shook a little; there was a rustling noise, as of some one slowly climbing out; a heavy foot was placed upon her soft, yielding arm, then another, and the pain was sharp, but almost welcome, for it seemed to numb her mental agony. Yet no sigh escaped her lips; she only felt that the time to die had come, and a simple old prayer was being mentally repeated for pardon for those who, if not already cruelly slain, were in deadly peril--for herself and for him she so dearly loved.

Then the pressure was removed, there was a staggering step, such as might be that of a wounded man. With closed eyes, and a heavily throbbing heart, she heard a hand run along the wall, the wooden click, the door open and softly close, and then all was silent in the shed.

Silence there, but noise and confusion in the house: shouting, and more than one attempt apparently to obtain order, but all heard in a confused way, for a strange, deathly feeling of sickness had come upon the poor girl, her senses were reeling, there was a loud singing noise at her ears, and, though her name seemed to be uttered again and again, yet she could not respond, and soon all was blank.

How long that time of utter nothingness lasted, she could not tell; but she woke again to a strange feeling of oppression and misery; her breath came thick and short, and she could not recall where she was. It was as if her intellect had received some fearful stroke which had robbed her of her reflective powers. But thought came suddenly, and she knew all.

A bitter sob rose to her lips, and she could have cried for help, but in dread she checked that cry, and her heart beat triumphantly, for a voice, whose breath touched her cheek, whispered her name, and she knew that he lived.