thin a yard of the precise spot, and not one of
the attacking party had a grain of patience left, the smith dropped his
hand, and Jack toppled the stone over the edge. It fell with a terrible
swiftness; the soldier completed his yard of step, and the block took
him, not on the crown, but on the right shoulder. It was, however,
enough. Down he fell without a sound.

His companion, glancing up at the instant, saw him fall, and, leaving
his matchlock, ran to his assistance. At the same moment the smith and
the boys rushed from the shrubbery. The soldier, running towards his
friend, observed them approaching, checked himself in bewilderment, and
then swung round on his heel and made for his weapon. But Matthew was
too quick for him. The smith was quite twenty yards distant, but,
gathering himself together, he flung out his arm, and with all his
might threw the iron bar at the retreating sentry. The missile sped
true; over and over it twisted in the air, and, catching the soldier
with a horrid thud in the back, laid him low.

"Hurrah!" cried Philip.

"Hurrah!" cried Jack, peering down from the roof as the others bound
the two wounded men with ropes. It was quickly done, and they were
hauled into the stable and secured safely therein, and old Digger told
off to watch them and mind them as well as he might.

"Now we can go ahead," was Matthew's comment, grimly uttered, as he
opened the door. Philip was for accompanying him, but Matthew said no.
"In a minute or two I will be back with your sister," he added. "I want
to settle the other man alone. I have a few scores to pay off."

He sprang up the stairs three at a bound, grasping his iron bar firmly,
and at last came to Barbara's landing. There before the door stood the
Roundhead, who evidently had heard nothing of the disturbance below.

"Ha, smith," he cried, on spying Matthew, "what are you looking for?"

"I came to have a little talk," said Matthew easily, taking in his man
with a quick glance.

"Well, then, you had best descend those stairs again," replied the
soldier; "I'm in no mood for talking."

"Now, that's curious," said Matthew genially, leaning against the wall,
"because I am. I never felt more disposed to conversation in my life."

The soldier scowled and fingered his matchlock.

"But perhaps," Matthew continued, darting forward suddenly, and with a
blow of the iron bar knocking the gun from the man's hand--"perhaps a
little tussle would be more to you