nd I should get our throats cut."

At this moment the noise of the distant fight breezed up louder than
ever.

"They're beat back," said Burnside. "I shall be off to Toonarbin, and
give them warning. I advise you to save yourself."

"I was set to mind these here things," said Benjy, "and I'm a-going to
mind 'em. And they as meddles with 'em had better look out."

Burnside started off for Toonarbin, and when halfway there he paused
and listened. The firing had ceased. When he came to reflect, now that
his panic was over, he had very little doubt that Desborough's party
had gained the day. It was impossible, he thought, that it could be
otherwise.

Nevertheless, being half-way to Toonarbin, he determined to ride on,
and, having called in a moment, to follow a road which took a way past
Lee's old hut towards the scene of action. He very soon pulled up at
the door, and Tom Troubridge came slowly out to meet him.

"Hallo, Burnside!" said Tom. "Get off, and come in."

"Not I, indeed. I am going off to see the fight."

"What fight?" said Mary Hawker, looking over Tom's shoulder.

"Do you mean to say you have not heard the news?"

"Not a word of any news for a fortnight."

For once in his life, Burnside was laconic, and told them all that had
happened. Tom spoke not a word, but ran up to the stable and had a
horse out, saddled in a minute, he was dashing into the house again for
his hat and pistols when he came against Mary in the passage, leaning
against the wall.

"Tom," she whispered hoarsely. "Bring that boy back to me safe, or
never look me in the face again!"

He never answered her, he was thinking of some one beside the boy. He
pushed past her, and the next moment she saw him gallop away with
Burnside, followed by two men, and now she was left alone indeed, and
helpless.

There was not a soul about the place but herself; not a soul within ten
miles. She stood looking out of the door fixedly, at nothing, for a
time; but then, as hour by hour went on, and the afternoon stillness
fell upon the forest, and the shadows began to slant, a terror began to
grow upon her which at length became unbearable, and well-nigh drove
her mad.

At the first she understood that all these years of anxiety had come to
a point at last, and a strange feeling of excitement, almost joy, came
over her. She was one of those impetuous characters who stand suspense
worse than anything, and now, although terror was in her, she felt a