"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
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.