alled out, "This way, men! Quick!"

And he drew pistol, and stood ready with steel and ball to guard the
window by which his men were to enter. A new, wild ferocity was on his
face, a new, nervous hardness in his body, as if the latent resolution
and strength which a prudent man keeps for a great contest, on which
his all may depend, were at last aroused. In such a mood, the man who,
governed by interest, may have seemed a coward all his life becomes
for the once supremely formidable. At last he thinks the stake worth
the play, at last the prize is worth the risk, and because it is so he
will play and risk to the end, hazarding all, not yielding while he
breathes. Having opened the theme which alone, of all themes, shall
transform his irresolution into action, he will, Hamlet like, "fight
upon this theme until" his "eyelids will no longer wag." So was Colden
aroused, transfigured, as he stood doubly armed by the window, waiting
for his men to clamber in.

"What shall we do, dear?" said Elizabeth.

"Fight!" replied Peyton, tightening at the same time his right palm
around his broken sword, and his left around the hand she had let him
take,--for she had moved from the embrace of his arm.

"Ay, there are only two of them," she said, as two burly forms
appeared in the open window, one behind the other.

"There will be three of us, you'll find!" cried Colden. "This time
I'll take a hand, if need be."

"You must not stay here," said Peyton to Elizabeth, quickly. "Things
will be flying loose in a moment!"

"I won't leave you!" said she.

"Go! I beg you, go!" he said, releasing her hand, and stepping back.

Meanwhile, Colden's men bounded in through the window. Rough, sturdy
fellows were they, who landed heavily on the parlor floor, and blinked
at the light, drawing the while the breeches of their short muskets
from beneath their coats. Their hats and shoulders were coated with
snow.

"Take that rebel alive, if you can!" ordered Colden. "He's meant to
hang! Stun him with your musket-butts!"

The men quickly reversed their weapons, and strode heavily towards
Harry. To their surprise, before they could bring down their muskets,
which required both hands of each to hold, Harry dashed forward
between them, thinking to cut down Colden with his broken sword,
possess himself of the latter's pistol, shoot one of the soldiers, and
meet the other on less unequal terms. He saw a possibility of his
leaping through the open wi