for
evermore in this world," Mrs. Kilburne said, in a voice half stifled
with emotion, as she pushed Ben gently aside.

His father was dying, and he could stop only for an instant to receive a
last pressure of the enfeebled hands!

When Ben returned he was heroically drying his eyes, that he might
resume his duty as sentinel, and Mrs. Kilburne motioned Arthur to follow
his brother's example.

"It is hard father should be the one sacrificed," Ben said, huskily, to
his mother, not able to glance toward her. "But one bullet has found its
way into the building, so Master Pike says, and that entered his body,
instead of mine."

"It is not for us to repine, my son. Remember that He doeth all things
well. I now look to you and Arthur for protection, and you can best show
your grief by doing as your father would have you do this day."

"I wish those painted fiends would show themselves again; there is some
little satisfaction in shooting them down."

"Vengeance should not be in your mind at this moment. It is necessary to
fight that our lives may be saved, but only for such purpose. Revenge
will not lessen the blow or soothe your father's pain."

Then the wife was by her husband's side, and Arthur at his station as
watcher.

During the next ten minutes the sound of hatchets against the logs of
the stockade could be heard, and then three of the heavy timbers fell
inward.

"Now stand steady!" Pike shouted. "They will make a rush, expecting to
overpower us by press of numbers, and we must be prepared."

The two boys ran to that side of the house which was most sorely
threatened, and had hardly gained new positions when the assault was
made.

It was now a question of loading and discharging their muskets as
rapidly as possible, only delaying sufficiently long to take careful
aim, and when half an hour had passed Ben heard, as if in a dream, Mrs.
Pike say to her husband, as she handed him a gun,

"John Kilburne is at rest!"

The boy bravely forced himself to forget, for the time being, the sorrow
which had come upon him; and when the conflict was hottest, a shrill cry
of pain burst from John Pike's lips as he swayed to and fro an instant,
and then fell backward to the floor dead.

"You and I must do the work of four now!" Arthur cried, as if thinking
his brother needed encouragement. "Take care of that fellow near your
corner; once he is on the other side of the house we shall be smoked
out."

A musket-shot was