Chapter 9: Pleasant Quarters.
After the termination of the short siege of Athlone, the troop of CaptainDavenant were despatched to join the army near Limerick, and, on theirarrival there, were ordered to take up their quarters at the house of aProtestant gentleman named Conyers, four miles from the town on theLimerick side of the river.
It was a mansion of considerable size, standing in large grounds, for itsproprietor was one of the largest landowners in the county of Limerick,his grandfather having been a colonel in one of Cromwell's regiments. Mr.Conyers himself had gone to Dublin, upon the passing of the actsequestrating the property of all the Protestants by James's parliament,to endeavour to obtain a remission of the decree, so far as it concernedhis house and adjoining grounds. As he had influential friends there, hehad remained, urging his petition, until the battle of the Boyne and theentry of King William into Dublin entirely changed the position. But hethen, owing to the disturbance of the country, and the fact that theIrish army had retired to Limerick, found it impossible to return home.He had, however, travelled with William's army, to which he was able togive much useful information regarding the defences, and details of thecountry round the town.
As Captain Davenant's troop rode up to the house, a lady, with a girl ofsome sixteen years old, appeared at the door. Both looked very pale, forthey feared that the brutal conduct of which they had heard, of William'sarmy, would be followed by reprisals on the part of the Irish. They weresomewhat reassured, however, by Captain Davenant's manner as that officerdismounted, raised his hat, and said:
"Madam, I have received orders to quarter my troop in the house, but I amanxious, I can assure you, to cause as little inconvenience and annoyanceas possible, under the circumstances."
"We are only women here, sir," Mrs. Conyers said. "The house is at yourdisposal. I myself and my daughter will move to the gardener's cottage,and I trust that you will give orders to your men that we shall be freefrom molestation there."
"I could not think of disturbing you in that manner," Captain Davenantsaid. "I myself have a wife and mother alone at home, and will gladlytreat you with the same courtesy which I trust they will receive. Allowme, in the first place, to introduce to you my lieutenant, Mr. O'Moore,and my cornet, who is also my son, Walter. I see that you have extensivestables and outbuildings. I am sure that my men, who are all goodfellows, and many of them the sons of farmers, will make themselves verycomfortable in these. I myself, and my two officers, will quarterourselves in the gardener's cottage you speak of."
"You are good, indeed, sir," Mrs. Conyers said gratefully; "but I couldnot think of allowing you to do that, and shall indeed be pleased, if youand your officers will take up your residence here as my guests."
"I thank you kindly; but that I could not do. My men will be well contentwith the outhouses, if they see that we are content with the cottage; butthey might not be so, if they saw that we took up our quarters in thehouse. Therefore, if you will allow me, I will carry out my own plan; butI need not say that we shall be very pleased to visit you in the house,at such times as may be agreeable to you."
After expressing their grateful thanks, Mrs. Conyers and her daughterwithdrew into the house. Captain Davenant then addressed a few words tohis men.
"The house will not hold you all, lads, and there are only ladies here,and I am sure you would not wish to disturb and annoy them by crowdingtheir house. Therefore, I have arranged that you shall take up yourquarters in the outhouses, and that we shall occupy a little cottage onthe grounds. I hope, lads, that, for the honour of the country and thecause, all will behave as peacefully and quietly as if in our own homes.It would be a poor excuse that, because William's soldiers are behavinglike wild beasts, we should forget the respect due to lonely women."
A fortnight was spent here pleasantly for all. The first alarm past, Mrs.Conyers felt safer than she had done for months. Ever since the troubleshad began, she had felt the loneliness of her position as a Protestant,and she would have, long before, made her way with her daughter toDublin, had it not been that she thought that, so long as she continuedin the house, it might be respected by the Catholic peasantry, while,were she to desert it, it would probably be plundered, perhaps burned tothe ground. Still, the position was a very trying one, especially sincethe Jacobite army began to gather in force round Limerick.
She now felt that her troubles were comparatively over. The troops causedno annoyance, and she heard but little of them, while she found inCaptain Davenant and his officers pleasant guests. The troops, on theirpart, were well satisfied. Mrs. Conyers gave instructions that they wereto be supplied with all they needed, and their rations of bread and meatwere supplemented with many little comforts and luxuries from the house.
While Mrs. Conyers entertained the two elder officers, Walter naturallyfell to the share of her daughter, and the two soon became great friends,wandering in the grounds, and sometimes riding together when Walter wasnot engaged with the troop. The news came daily of the movements ofWilliam's army, and when it approached, Captain Davenant's troop went farout to observe its movements, and obtain an accurate idea of itsstrength.
It was late in the evening when they returned, and Captain Davenant saidat supper:
"This is our last meal with you, Mrs. Conyers. We leave at daybreak, anda few hours afterwards William's army will arrive before Limerick. Weshall be the losers, but you will be the gainer if, as you suppose, Mr.Conyers is with them."
"I shall be really sorry for your going, Captain Davenant. It seemed aterrible thing having a troop of hostile horse quartered upon one; but inreality it has been a pleasant operation, rather than not, and I havefelt safer than I have done for months. I do hope that when thesetroubles are over we shall renew our acquaintance, and that you will givemy husband an opportunity of thanking you for the kindness with which youhave treated us."
"The thanks should be on my side," Captain Davenant said. "You have madewhat promised to be an unpleasant duty a most pleasant one. Our stay herehas been like a visit at a friend's, and I regret deeply that it has tocome to an end, a regret which I am sure Lieutenant O'Moore and my sonshare."
"We do, indeed," the lieutenant said.
Walter and Claire Conyers said nothing. They had talked it over earlythat morning before the troop started, and Walter had expressed his deepregret that their pleasant time was at an end; and, although the girl hadsaid little, she was far less bright and happy than might have beenexpected, considering that upon the following day she should probably seeher father.
Captain Davenant's troop rode off at daybreak, kept down the Shannon toLimerick, and, crossing the bridge, entered the city, and received ordersthere to take up their quarters in a village some four miles up theriver. Thus, they were less than a mile distant from Mrs. Conyers' house,although separated from it by the Shannon; and from an eminence near thevillage, the roof and chimneys of the mansion could be seen rising abovethe trees by which it was surrounded.
During the day, the sound of the firing before Limerick could be plainlyheard; but little attention was paid to it, for it was certain that noattack could be made in earnest upon the town, until the batteringartillery came up, and there was but little hope that the cavalry wouldbe called up for any active service at present.
After dinner, Walter strolled out to the eminence, and looked acrosstowards the house where he had spent so happy a time, and wonderedwhether Mr. Conyers had by this time arrived, and whether, in thepleasure of his coming, all thought of the late visitors had beenforgotten. Presently Larry sauntered up, and took a seat on a wall a fewpaces away. Larry was a general favourite in the troop. He did not ridein its ranks, but accompanied it in the capacity of special servant ofWalter, and as general attendant to the three officers.
"We had a good time of it, yer honour," he said presently.
Walter turned round sharply, for he had not heard him approach.
"We had, Larry," he said, with a smile. "We shall find it rougher worknow."
/> "We shall, yer honour.
"I was thinking to myself," he said, confidentially, "that if you mightbe wanting to send a bit of a letter, it's meself could easily make aboat, with some osiers and the skin of that bullock we had given us forthe rations of the troops today."
"Send a letter, Larry! Who should I be sending a letter to?"
"Sure yer honour knows better than me. I thought maybe you would beliking to let the young lady know how we're getting on now, and to findout whether her father has come home, and how things are going. Yerhonour will excuse me, but it just seemed natural that you should bewishing to send a line; and a sweeter young lady never trod the sod."
Walter could not help laughing at the gleam of quiet humour in Larry'sface.
"I don't know, lad. You have pretty well guessed my thoughts; but itcan't be. The opposite bank will be swarming with William's men--it wouldbe a most dangerous business. No, it's not to be thought of."
"Very well, yer honour, it's just as you like; but you have only got tohand me a bit of paper, and give me a wink of your eye, and I will do it.As to William's sodgers, it's little I fear them; and if all one hears oftheir doings be true, and I had a pretty young creature a mile away fromme, with those blackguards round about her, it's anxious I should be fora line from her hand;" and Larry got down from his seat, and began towalk away towards the village.
Walter stood silent for a moment.
"Wait, Larry," he said.
Larry turned, with a look of surprise upon his face.
"Come here," Walter said impatiently. "Of course I am anxious--though Idon't know how you could have guessed it."
"Sure yer honour," Larry said with an innocent look, "when a gentlemanlike yourself is for ever walking and riding with a purty colleen, itdon't need much guessing to suppose that you would be worrying after her,with such creatures as the Northerners and the furreners in herneighbourhood."
"And you seriously think you could take a letter across to her, Larry?"
"Sure and I could, yer honour. The nights are dark, and I could getacross the river widout a sowl being the wiser, and make my way to thestables, and give it to one of the boys, who will put it in the hands ofBridget, Miss Claire's own maid; and I could go back, next night, for theanswer."
"But if you can do it, I can," Walter said.
"What would be the good, yer honour? It's only the outside of the houseyou would see, and not the young lady. Besides, there's a lot more riskin your doing it than there is with me. You are an officer of the king's,and if you were caught on that side of the river, it's mighty littletrial they'd give you before they run you up to the bough of a tree, orput a bullet into you. With me, it's different. I am just a country boygoing to see my cousin Pat Ryan, who works in the stables at the house.Pat would give me a character, no fear."
"Well, I will think of it," Walter said.
"And I will get the boat ready at once, your honour. A few sticks and agreen hide will make a boat fit for Dublin Bay, to say nothing ofcrossing a smooth bit of water like this."
After Larry had left him, Walter walked up and down for some time. He hadcertainly thought, vaguely, that he should like Claire Conyers to knowthat he was still within sight of her house; but the possibility ofsending her word had not occurred to him, until his follower suggestedit. Larry's suggestion of possible danger to her made him uneasy. Even ifher father was with the king, and had already returned home, he wouldfrequently be absent in the camp, and who could tell but some band ofplunderers might visit the house in his absence! The Protestants had beenplundered and ill-used by William's men round Athlone, and might be here.It would certainly be well to know what was going on across the water.
After the kindness they had received, surely it would be only civil tolet the Conyers know where they were posted. At any rate, Claire couldnot be offended at his writing; besides, he might arrange some plan bywhich he might get news from Larry's friend, Pat Ryan.
As he went down to the village he heard roars of laughter, and, passing acottage, saw Larry with five or six of the troopers round him. Larry wasseated on the ground, making a framework in the shape of a saucer fourfeet in diameter.
"And what are you wanting a boat for, Larry?"
"Sure, I am mighty fond of fishing," Larry said. "Didn't you know that?"
"I know you are a fisherman at home, Larry; but if it's fishing you want,there are two large boats hauled up on the bank."
"They are too big," Larry said. "I should want half a dozen men to launchthem, and then you would want to go with me, and the bare sight of youwould be enough to frighten away all the fish in the Shannon. But I willhave a look at the boats. The captain might want a party to cross theriver, and it's as well to see that they are in good order, and have gotthe oars and thole pins handy. I will see to them myself, for there arenot half a dozen of ye know one end of the boat from the other."
When Walter reached his quarters, he at once sat down to write. Aftermany attempts he finished one as follows:
"Dear Miss Conyers:
"After the kindness shown to us by Mrs. Conyers and yourself, I feel surethat you will like to know where we are posted. We are at Ballygan, justacross the Shannon opposite to your house, and I can see your roof from aspot fifty yards from the village. It seems a pleasure to me to be soclose, even though we are as much divided as if there were the seabetween us.
"I hope that Mr. Conyers has returned, and that you will have no troublewith William's troops, whose reputation for good behaviour is not of thebest. I hope that, now that you are among your friends, you have notquite forgotten us, and that you will let me have a line to say how youare, and how things are going on with you. My boy Larry is going to takethis across, and will call tomorrow night for an answer, if you are goodenough to send one."
"When will your boat be finished, Larry?" he asked his follower, as thelatter came in, just as it was getting dusk.
"She will be finished tomorrow. The framework is done, and I could make ashift, if your honour wished, just to fasten the skin on so that it wouldtake me tonight."
"If you could, I would rather, Larry."
"All right, your honour!" Larry said, with a slight smile. "Two hours'work will do it."
"I know where you are making it, Larry, and will come round when I go toinspect sentries, at eleven o'clock. We shall post ten men, a quarter ofa mile apart, on the bank, and I will give orders for them to look outfor you. The word will be 'Wicklow;' so when you come across they willshout to you, 'Who comes there?' You say, 'Wicklow;' and it will be allright."
At the hour he had named, Walter went round for Larry, who was working bythe light of a torch stuck in the ground.
"I have just finished it, yer honour; but I was obliged to stop till theboys got quiet; they were so mighty inquisitive as to what I was in sucha hurry about, that I had to leave it alone for a while."
"Look here, Larry, here is the letter, but that's not the principalreason why I am sending you across. You will give it to Pat Ryan, as yousuggested, to pass on through Bridget to Miss Conyers; but I want you toarrange with him that he shall, tomorrow, get some dry sticks puttogether on the bank opposite, with some straw, so that he can make ablaze in a minute. Then do you arrange with him that, if any parties ofWilliam's troops come to the house in the absence of Mr. Conyers, andthere should seem likely to be trouble, he is to run as hard as he candown to the river. If it is day, he is to wave a white cloth on a stick.If it is night, he is to light the fire. Tell him to arrange with Bridgetto run at once to him and tell him, if there is trouble in the house,for, as he is in the stables, he may not know what is going on inside.
"I have been looking at those boats. They will carry fifteen men each ata pinch; and if the signal is made, we shall not be long in gettingacross. Pat would only have about half a mile to run. We will get theboats down close to the water's edge, and it won't take us many minutesto get across. Anyhow, in twenty minutes from the time he starts, wemight be there."
"
That will be a moighty good plan, yer honour. Now, if you will go downto the water with me, I will be off at once. I sha'n't be away half anhour; and I can slip up into the loft where Pat sleeps, and not a sowl bethe wiser, if there was a regiment of William's troops about the house."
"All right, Larry! I shall wait here for you till you get back."
Larry raised the light craft and put it on his head. He had made a coupleof light paddles, by nailing two pieces of wood on to mop sticks.
Walter accompanied him to the water's edge, and told the sentry therethat Larry was crossing the river on business, and would return in halfan hour's time, and that he was not to challenge loudly when he saw himreturning.
The night was dark, and Walter soon lost sight of the little boat. Thenhe waited anxiously. He had, however, but little fear that the enemywould have posted sentries so far down the river, especially as he wouldonly just have pitched his camp opposite Limerick.
It was three-quarters of an hour before he heard a faint splash in thewater. The sentry heard it, too.
"Shall I challenge, sir?"
"No. Wait for a minute. We shall soon see whether it is Larry. Shouldthere be anyone on the opposite bank, he might hear the challenge, andthey would keep a sharp lookout in future."
The sound came nearer and nearer.
"Who goes there?" Walter said in a quiet voice.
"'Wicklow!' and it's mighty glad I am to hear your voice, for it's sodark I began to think I had lost myself entirely."
"Is all well, Larry?" Walter asked, as the light boat touched the bank.
"All is well, your honour," Larry said, stepping ashore, and lifting thelight boat on to his head.
"You had better stow it away close here, Larry, till the morning. It's sodark that you will be sure to pitch over something, if you go further.
"Now, tell me all about it," he went on, as Larry stowed away the boatamong some bushes.
"There is little enough to tell, yer honour. I just rowed across andlanded, and made straight for the house. Everything was quiet and still.I went round to the stables, and up into the loft where Pat sleeps.
"'Are you there, Pat Ryan,' says I?
"'Who is it calls Pat Ryan?' says he.
"'It's myself, Larry, Mr. Davenant's boy.'
"'Why, I thought you had gone,' says he. 'Are you sure it's yourself?'says he.
"'And who else should it be, Pat Ryan? Don't yer know my voice?'
"By this time I had got into the corner where he slept, and touched him.
"'I am glad to feel you, Larry,' says he, 'for I wasn't sure that youhadn't fallen in with the troopers, and it wasn't your ghost that come tovisit me.'
"'Whist,' says I, 'I have no time to waste upon ye. The master and thetroops are stationed just across the river, at Ballygan. Mr. Davenant hasgiven me a letter for Miss Conyers, telling her all about it. I don'texactly know what he said, and maybe she would like it given privately,so do you hand it to Bridget in the morning, and ask her to give it toher mistress, and to hand over to you any answer there may be. I willcome across for it tomorrow night. But that's not all, Pat. You know thedevil's work that William's men have been carrying on, on the march.'
"'Av course, everyone has heard the tales of the villains' doings,Larry.'
"'Well, the young master is mighty anxious about it, as you may guess.Has Mr. Conyers come?'
"'Yes. He rode in at four this afternoon.'
"'Well, Mr. Davenant says you will all be safe as long as he's here, butmaybe that at some time, when he's away, you may have a troop of thesevillains of the world ride in here, and little they care whether it'sProtestants or Catholics that they plunder. So, if they come here andbegin their devilries, you run for your life down to the river, oppositeBallygan, with a white cloth or a shirt, if it's daytime, and wave it.You are to have a pile of sticks and straw ready, and, if it's night, yewill just set it in a blaze, and there will be help over before manyminutes. You stop there till they come, to tell them how strong the enemyare.
"'The master says you are to tell Bridget about it, so that, if theymisbehave themselves inside the house, she can slip out and let you know.You understand that?'
"'I do,' says he; 'and its a comfort to me, for it's fretting I have beenover what might happen, if a troop of those murderin' villains were tocome here, and not a sowl save me and the other boys to take the part ofthe mistress and Miss Claire.'
"'Well, you know now, Pat, what's to be done, and see you do it; and nowI must go, for the master is waiting for me. I will be with you tomorrownight for the answer.'
"And so I came back, and I lost ten minutes looking about for the boat,for it was so mighty dark that I could not see a fut. I kicked against itand very near fell over it. It's well I didn't, for I should have knockedit into smithereens, entirely!"
"Capital, Larry! you couldn't have done better. Now I shall feelcomfortable."
After breakfast, Walter told his father of the mission on which he hadsent Larry, and the arrangement he had made with Pat Ryan.
"You ought to have told me at first, Walter. I do not blame you, but youshould not do things on your own responsibility."
"But so far, father, it has not been a regimental affair. I simply sentmy own boy with a note to Miss Conyers, just to say where we were; but,as it may be an affair in which some of the troop may have to act, I havetold you about it, so that you can make what arrangements you like."
"It's rather a fine distinction, Walter," his father said, smiling. "Itseems to me that you have engaged us to send a detachment across theriver, in case of trouble at Mrs. Conyers'. However, I heartily agreewith you that our kind friends should be protected from injury andinsult.
"How many will the boats hold?"
"Thirteen or fourteen men each."
"Very well, then. I authorize you, at any time, if I am away with aportion of the troop, to take twenty-five men across if the signal ismade. If I am here I shall, of course, go over myself. You can take anymeasures of preparation you may think necessary."
Walter availed himself of the permission, and at once gave orders to thesentry posted on the river, in front of the village, that if a white flagwas waved by day, or a fire lit by night on the opposite bank, he was toshout loudly and fire his pistol, and that these orders were to be passedon to the sentry who succeeded him at the post. Then he picked outtwenty-five men, and told them that, at any time in the night or day, ifthey heard a shot fired by the sentry they were to seize their arms, rushdown to the boats, launch them and take their places, and wait fororders. He told them to sleep without removing any of their clothes, soas to be ready for instant action.
The next night, Larry again crossed and brought back a little note fromClaire Conyers, thanking Walter for letting her know they were so close,telling him of her father's return, and saying that there was no fear ofher mother or herself forgetting their late visitors. It was a prettilywritten little note, and Walter was delighted at receiving it.
"Well, my boy," Captain Davenant said with a little smile, when Waltertold him next morning that he had heard from Miss Conyers, "as you seemspecially interested in this affair, I will let you have the honour andglory of being the first to come to the rescue of Miss Conyers and hermother, if they should need it; and therefore, whether I am here or not,I give you permission to cross at once, in the two boats, if you get thesignal. But on reaching the other side you are to send the two boats backat once, with two men in each, and I will bring the rest of the troopacross as fast as possible. There is no saying what force you may findthere. I shall leave it to your discretion to attack at once, or to waituntil I come up with reinforcements. You will, of course, be guidedpartly by the strength of the enemy, partly by the urgency for instantinterference for the protection of the ladies."
Four days passed quietly. There was but little for the cavalry to do.Small parties were posted at various spots, for some miles down theriver, to give notice should the enemy appear on the opposite bank andshow any intentio
n of making a crossing; and, beyond furnishing theseguards, the troop had little to do.
Walter spent much of his time watching the opposite bank. He hardly knewwhether he wished the signal to be displayed or not--he certainly desiredno trouble to befall the ladies; but, on the other hand, the thought ofrushing to their rescue was undoubtedly a pleasant one. Larry spent muchof his time at the water's edge, fishing--a pursuit in which many of thetroopers joined; and they were able to augment the daily rations by agood supply of salmon.
On the fifth day, the officers had just finished supper, when the soundof a pistol shot was heard. Walter leaped from his seat, snatched up hissword and pistols, and ran down to the river. The men were alreadyclustering round the boats. A minute later these were in the water, andthe men jumped on board. They too were eager for the work, for Larry hadwhispered among them that, if the signal was made, it would signify thata band of the enemy's marauders were at Mrs. Conyers'; and all had beenso kindly treated there that they were eager to repay the treatment theyhad received. Besides, there was not a man in the Irish army whose hearthad not been fired at the recitals of the brutality of the enemy, andfilled with deep longings for vengeance upon the perpetrators of thedeeds.
Walter counted the men as they rowed across, and was pleased to find thatnot one of them was missing. He ordered the two men who were at the oarsin each boat to return, the instant the rest had landed, to fetch anotherdetachment across.
As they reached the land, the men sprang out. Pat Ryan was standing atthe landing place.
"Well, Pat, what is it?"
"A troop of Hessian horse, your honour. Half an hour ago they rode up tothe doors. Mrs. Conyers came out to meet them, and told them that she wasa loyal Protestant, and wife of a gentleman high in the king's councils,who was in the camp. The blackguards only laughed. The officers, withsome of the men, dismounted and pushed their way past her into the house,and the rest of the troop tied their horses up to the trees on the lawn,and shouted to me, and some of the other boys who were looking on, tobring forage. I suppose we weren't quick enough for them, for one of themdrew his pistol and fired at me. Fortunately, he only hit the truss ofstraw I was carrying. Then I went round to the back door, where I hadagreed that Bridget was to come to me, if things were going wrong in thehouse. A few minutes afterwards she came out, with a white face, andsaid: 'For the sake of the Holy Virgin, run for your life, Pat, and warnthe soldiers!' So I slipped away and ran my hardest."
All this was told as the party were running at full speed towards thehouse.
"How strong was the troop?" Walter asked.
"About eighty men, yer honour."
"We must trust to a surprise," Walter said. "We can get round to the backof the house without being seen. If we burst in there suddenly, we canclear the house and hold it till my father comes up with the wholetroop."
Five minutes after they had left the boat, the party approached thehouse. Walter halted his men for a moment in the shrubbery behind it.
"Steady, lads, and take breath. You will follow me into the house, andkeep together. Give no quarter to the scoundrels."
Scarcely had he spoken than a piercing scream, accompanied by a pistolshot, was heard within.
"Come on, lads!" Walter exclaimed, as he rushed at full speed at thedoor, the men following close at his heels.
The door was open. In the passage lay one of the maidservants, shotthrough the head by one of the Hessian troopers, who still held thepistol in his hand. Walter's pistol cracked before the man had time todraw his sword, and he fell dead.
Then he rushed on into the hall, in which were a score of troopers,gathered round a barrel of wine which had just been broached. In aninstant, the Irish were upon them. Many were cut down or shot, beforethey had time to stand on the defensive. The rest were slain after ashort and desperate fight.
"Bar the front door!" Walter shouted. "Sergeant Mullins, take six men andhold it against those outside. The rest follow me."
Short as the fight had been, it had given time to the rest of theHessians, scattered about the house in the act of plundering, to gatheron the stair, headed by their officers. Without a moment's hesitationWalter dashed at them. In point of numbers the party were well matched;but the fury of the Irishmen more than counterbalanced the advantage ofposition on the part of the Hessians.
For five minutes a desperate fight raged. Those in front grappled eachother, and fought with clubbed pistols and shortened swords. Those behindstruck a blow as they could with sword or musket.
But the Hessians, ignorant of the strength of the force which hadsuddenly thus attacked them, thought more of securing their safety thanof defending the stairs, so several of those behind slipped away andjumped from the windows to the ground. Their desertion disheartened thosein front, and, with a shout, Walter and his troopers bore back theHessians on to the landing, and the latter then broke and fled. Most ofthem were overtaken and cut down at once. Two or three only gained thewindows and leaped out.
The instant resistance had ceased, Walter rushed into the drawing room,bidding the men run down and hold the lower windows. Mrs. Conyers lay ina dead faint on the sofa. Claire, with a face as pale as death, wasstanding beside her.
"Walter!" she gasped out; "then we are safe!"
She tottered, and would have fallen, had not Walter rushed forward intime to catch her, and place her in a chair:
"Don't faint, my dear Claire," he said urgently. "There is your mother tobe looked after, and I must run downstairs, for they are attacking thehouse."
"I won't faint," Claire said, laughing and crying in a manner whichfrightened Walter more than her fainting would have done. "I shall bebetter directly, but it seems almost like a miracle. Oh, those dreadfulmen!"
"They have all gone now, Claire. We hold the house, and have cleared themout. Pray, calm yourself and attend to your mother. I must go. Don't befrightened at the firing. My father will be here in a few minutes, withaid."
"Oh! I am not frightened, now," Claire said; "and oh! Walter, you arebleeding dreadfully."
"Never mind that now," Walter said; "I will see to it, when it is allover."
Then, leaving her to look after Mrs. Conyers, he ran downstairs. Hisright arm was disabled, he having received a sweeping blow on theshoulder from one of the Hessians, as he won his way on to the landing;but he had no time to think of this now, for his men were hardly pressed.For a moment, a panic had reigned among the troopers outside, at theoutburst of firing, and at the sight of their comrades leapingpanic-stricken from the windows; but inquiry soon showed them that theywere still greatly superior in numbers to the party who had obtainedpossession of the hall; and, furious at the loss of all their officers,and of many of their comrades, they attacked on all sides, and tried toforce their way in at the doors and lower windows, in spite of thevigorous resistance from within. Walter hurried from point to point,cheering on his men by assurance that help was at hand, and seeing thatno point had been left undefended.