sea, but threatened with every moment to crumble and fall in about

our ears.

Northmour and I cocked our revolvers. Mr. Huddlestone, who had

already refused a firearm, put us behind him with a manner of

command.

"Let Clara open the door," said he. "So, if they fire a volley,

she will be protected. And in the meantime stand behind me. I am

the scapegoat; my sins have found me out."

I heard him, as I stood breathless by his shoulder, with my pistol

ready, pattering off prayers in a tremulous, rapid whisper; and I

confess, horrid as the thought may seem, I despised him for

thinking of supplications in a moment so critical and thrilling.

In the meantime, Clara, who was dead white but still possessed her

faculties, had displaced the barricade from the front door.

Another moment, and she had pulled it open. Firelight and

moonlight illuminated the links with confused and changeful lustre,

and far away against the sky we could see a long trail of glowing

smoke.

Mr. Huddlestone, filled for the moment with a strength greater than

his own, struck Northmour and myself a back-hander in the chest;

and while we were thus for the moment incapacitated from action,

lifting his arms above his head like one about to dive, he ran

straight forward out of the pavilion.

"Here am!" he cried - "Huddlestone! Kill me, and spare the

others!"

His sudden appearance daunted, I suppose, our hidden enemies; for

Northmour and I had time to recover, to seize Clara between us, one

by each arm, and to rush forth to his assistance, ere anything

further had taken place. But scarce had we passed the threshold

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