dn't have given us our guns."

_Nick, nick, nick, nick_, went the flint against the steel; and the boy
watched the sparks flying till one of them seemed to settle lightly in
the priest's tinder-box, and the next minute that single spark began to
glow as the old man deliberately breathed upon it till the tinder grew
plain before the watcher's eyes, and the shape of the old man's bald
head, with its roll of fat across the back of the neck, stood out like a
silhouette.

Then there was a rustling sound, and the boy saw the point of a match
applied, and marked that that point was formed of pale yellow brimstone,
which began to turn of a lambent blue as it melted and quivered, and
anon grew a flame-colour as the burning mineral fired the match.

A deep, heavy breath as of relief rose now through the floor as the old
man applied the burning match to the wick of his oil-lamp, and Punch
drew back from the knot-hole, for the loft was dimly lit up by the rays
which came through the cracks of the badly laid floor, so that it seemed
to him as if this could be no hiding-place, for any one in the room
below must for certain be aware of the presence of any one in the loft.

In spite of himself, Punch started and extended his hand to catch at his
comrade's arm, for he could see him plainly, though dimly, lying with
the muskets on one side, the basket and jar of water upon the other,
while half-behind him, where he himself lay, there was the black
trap-like opening through which he had climbed.

The boy's was a very slight movement, but it was sufficient to make a
board creak, and a warning "Hist!" came once more from below; while, as
he looked downward, the boy found that he could see what the old man was
doing, as he drew his lamp across the rough table and bent over a little
open book, while he began muttering softly, half-aloud, as he read from
his Book of Hours.

Punch softly pressed his comrade's arm, and then there was a slight
movement and the pressure was returned.

"Wonder whether he can see too," thought Punch; and then in spite of
himself he started, and his breath seemed to come thick and short, for
plainly from a short distance off came the unmistakable tramp of
marching men.

"Then he has sold us after all," thought the boy, and by slow degrees he
strained himself over so that he could look through the knot-hole again.
To his great surprise the priest had not stirred, but was bending over
his book, and his muttere