omewhat
impeded the pursuers. Morton marked well the way they took. It was
towards, he believed, the huts of the prisoners. He guessed what their
purpose would be--on he went in hot haste. Once some of the fugitives,
finding so few of their enemies close at their heels, stopped, and stood
at bay. They had cause to repent their temerity. Three were brought to
the ground by the edge of Ronald's cutlass, somewhat blunted as it was,
while others, with severe wounds, again took to flight.

In the dark many of the pursuers and pursued were scattered, but Morton
followed what he believed to be the main body. Suddenly cries and
shrieks arose in front, and men's voices were heard shouting, and he
thought he recognised that of old Doull and--yes, he was certain--that
of Colonel Armytage. Among the female voices was one which thrilled
through every nerve. Ronald rushing on, shouted to his men to collect
them round him; in another instant he found the two Doulls and Colonel
Armytage fiercely engaged with a party of the fugitives. His cutlass
soon put the latter to flight.

"Where are the ladies?" he exclaimed; but he scarcely waited for an
answer. He divined too well what had occurred.

"There! there! the scoundrels have carried them off towards the woods,"
cried Colonel Armytage.

In another instant Ronald was among the Frenchmen. Some of the men
finding that with their burdens escape was impossible, let them go free,
but others continued their flight. The cries of children and the
shrieks of women resounded through the woods. Edda Armytage was still
in the hands of the enemy. On rushed Morton; young Doull was by his
side.

"There's some people with a lady, sir," he exclaimed, making a dash
towards a path which led down a dell on one side. There were several
men, and Ronald at that moment caught sight of a female dress among
them. Morton's quick ear recognised Edda's voice.

"Oh, save me! save me!" she cried out.

The man who held her boldly came to the front, while his comrades
retreated. Ronald's cutlass was upraised to strike, when the Frenchman
placed his captive before him as a shield. The rest rallied round him,
and Morton, with Doull alone by his side, found himself opposed to a
dozen or more desperadoes, while he felt almost unnerved by seeing Miss
Armytage in their power. His dread was that some stray shot or the
careless stroke of a cutlass might injure her. All he could do was to
keep at ba