here the three boys were guarding the back of the
premises, and then there was a faint rustling noise, followed by the
sharp _click_, _click_ of guns being cocked.

"Who's that?" whispered Rifle.

"Only I, my boys," said Mrs Bedford in a low voice, and she kissed each
in turn, and clung to the sturdy lads for a few moments. "Your father
wishes me to go now and leave you. God bless and protect you!"

She stole away again, and the two girls came in turn to say good-night,
and then go away again to watch or sleep as they could.

"I don't care," muttered Tim, rebelliously. "I say Shanter wouldn't go
and sneak away like that."

"And so do I, my dear," said Aunt Georgie. "He was only a savage, but
he had grown as faithful as a dog, and so we told your father, but he's
as stubborn as--"

"Aunt," cried the captain, "what are you doing here?"

"To your room, please. You are hindering the boys from keeping proper
watch."

"Good-night; God bless you, my dears!" whispered Aunt Georgie, in a
husky whisper. "It's very dreadful, but I'm sure he is killed."

"Look out!" whispered Norman, a short time after. "It isn't quite so
dark, and I can see some one moving. Shall I fire?"

"No. It may be Shanter."

It was not. A few minutes later Norman had a narrow escape from death,
for a spear was thrust through the loophole, and a shot being fired in
reply, half a dozen spears came rattling at the thick shutter; and this
time the boys distinctly heard the black fellows come softly up and drag
their weapons out of the wood, just as they were alarmed by a fresh
attempt to enter by the chimney, and some one on the roof was trying to
tear up the shingles.

"Fire, boys, fire!" cried the captain; while shots rang out from the
front. The boys fired, Tim directing his two charges through the
ceiling, where he imagined enemies to be lying, the others firing
through the loophole.

There was the customary rush overhead, the sound of falls, fierce
yelling, as a pair of spears struck the house, and Norman uttered a
sharp cry.

"Any one hurt?" cried the captain, excitedly. "Marian, aunt, go and
see. I can't leave here."

"No: not hurt," shouted Norman. "Spear came through the loophole,
passed through my shirt and under my arm."

"Thrust or thrown?" cried Uncle Jack.

"Thrown," was the reply, as the hissing of wads driving out confined
air, and the thudding of ramrods were heard.

"They know Shanter isn't here," whispere