r death. Two circumstances,
however, were at work against the brave and intrepid proctor and his
equally brave and intrepid sons. Crowbars had been procured, and three
breaches were being made in those parts of the wall which the windows
of the house did not command, and what was still equally, if not more
dreadful to the besieged, was the fact of the dwelling-house having
taken fire, from the flames that were wafted to it by the conflagration
of the adjoining offices. The breaches having been effected, the
assailants precipitated themselves into the yard; and now commenced the
work of destruction in reality. The latter were shot down in scores;
whilst at the same time, the windows of the house from which this
destructive fire was kept up so ably, received fifty discharges to one
that had been made from them. The house was immediately surrounded, and
guards were placed at the doors and lower windows, with strict and fatal
orders to allow none of the family to escape, with the exception of
the females--one of whom was to be secured, as the reader knows, for a
particular purpose, and the rest as chance or passion might direct.

The Purcels, in the meantime, ably served and assisted by Mrs. Purcel
and her daughters, continued to deal death and destruction on the
parties outside, without being yet either fatigued or disabled. At
length the terrible light of the roof that was burning over them, and
the stifling heat which began to oppress them, startled the proctor
into a state of feeling so awful, that it obliterated from his awakened
conscience all external impressions of the dreadful havoc of human
life which was taking place about him. The feeling was deepened by a
discovery that the gate had been broken and breaches made in the walls,
as well as by the incredible multitude of armed persons about the
premises, most of whom were now distinctly visible by the glare of the
conflagration.

The life of Matthew Purcel, though unstained by any of those gross
crimes which separate man from his fellows, or draw down the punishment
of the law upon those who commit them, was, nevertheless, in a singular
degree, unfeeling, oppressive, and rapacious. Though plausible and
clever in his manner, and anxious to stand well with the world, he was,
at the same time, relentless and implacable, a tyrant within the petty
sphere of his influence, a despiser of all those principles that were
not calculated, no matter how, to elevate and enrich.