the
house, to collect some of our men together. Another will be in
readiness to open the back door, as soon as they return.

"I shall keep them from firing the pile as long as I can. The count
has two double-barrelled guns. I don't want to use them, if I can
help it; but they shall not get in here. Do you stop, and help next
door. There can be no fighting here yet for, if they do burn the
door, it will be a long time before they can get in."

The native officers started at once. They were of opinion that they
would soon be able to bring in a good many of their men; for the
Portuguese are a sober race, and few would have got intoxicated.
Most of the men would soon find that there was not much booty to be
obtained, and that even what they got would probably be snatched
from them by the English soldiers; and would consequently be glad
to return to their duty again.

An officer took his place at the back door, in readiness to remove
the bars; another went up with Terence to the first floor; and the
remainder stopped in the hall, with six of the menservants.

Terence went upstairs and looked down into the street. There was a
lot of furniture, with bundles of faggots and straw, piled there.

"Now," he said to the officer, "empty these pails at once; the
servants will soon bring some more up. I will stand here with these
guns, and fire at any one who interferes with you. Just come out
into the balcony, empty your pails over, and go back at once. You
need scarcely show yourself, and there is not much chance of your
being hit by those drunken rascals."

Yells and shouts of rage were heard below, as the water was thrown
over. As fast as the pails were emptied, the servants carried them
off and refilled them. At last, two soldiers appeared from a house
opposite, with blazing torches.

The guns had been loaded by the count with small shot, as Terence
was anxious not to take life. As soon as the two men appeared, he
raised the fowling piece to his shoulder and fired both barrels, in
quick succession. With a yell of pain, the soldiers dropped their
torches. One fell to the ground, the other clapped his hands to his
face and ran down the street in an agony, as if half mad. Half a
dozen muskets were discharged, but Terence had stepped back the
moment he had fired, and handed the gun to the count, who was
standing behind him, to recharge.

Two other soldiers picked up the torches, but dropped them as
Terence again fired. Anot