o meet this treacherous
attack from the rear, there was the clash of steel, the sounds of
struggling, then a momentary silence, followed by a few sharp orders,
and the rattling noise of stones told that a strong party of men were
coming down the rough path from the flagstaff.

"Forward, my lads!" cried Roy lance; "we may beat them back."

The men gave a cheer, and advanced quickly, the excitement of all taking
them from the battery, which was left defenceless.

As they advanced, the old feeling of terror that he had always felt when
about to engage in a school-fight was for a few moments in Sydney's
breast; then the eager excitement carried all away, and, sword in hand,
he ran on with his men.

Directly after there was the shock and confusion of the two parties
meeting, with stray shots, the clatter of sword against sword, with
sparks flying in the darkness, and the shouts and cheers of contending
men.

What he did Syd never knew, for everything was centred in the one idea
that he was leading his father's men, and that he must try and be brave.
And if being brave meant rushing on with them right at the descending
Frenchmen, he was brave enough.

So vigorous was the rush, and so desperate were the little English party
at being surprised in so sudden a fashion, that the first group of the
enemy were driven backward toward the path by which they had climbed
down. But more and more were hurrying from above to their help, the
officers threw themselves to the front, and the flight was stayed, while
quite a series of single combats began to take place.

"Give it 'em, boys! Old England for ever!" was yelled out in the
darkness, close by to where Syd was cutting and thrusting at an active
little Frenchman. Then there came a groan, and the same voice said
hoarsely--

"Oh, if I had my strength!"

"Hurrah, boys! they're giving way!" shouted Roylance. "Keep together,
and over with them."

For in spite of the bravery of their officers, the French were yielding
ground once more, and being slowly driven up the narrowing path. But
there was a fresh burst of cheering, the hurry of feet, and about twenty
of the French frigate's crew, who had taken advantage of the little
garrison being attacked from the rear, and crept up to the cliff wall to
scale it with a spar, one man going up with a rope which he had secured
to a gun, soon turned the tables again.

With enemies before and behind triple their strength, and taking th