as busy among the startled beasts. She had a passion for
horses, and had, as we say, the "cool" hand with them, for she would
soothe a frightened stallion by rubbing his nose and whispering in his
ear. By the time I got to her she had stamped out the torch, and was
stroking Grey's mare, which was the worst scared. Her own fear had
gone, and in that place of plunging hooves and tossing manes she was as
calm as in a summer garden. "Let me be, Andrew," she said. "I am better
at this business than you."

She had the courage of a lion, but 'twas a wild courage, without
foresight. Another firebrand came circling through the darkness, and
broke on the head of Donaldson's pony. I caught the girl and swung her
off her feet into safety. And then on the heels of the torch came a
flight of arrows, fired from near at hand.

By the mercy of God she was unharmed. I had one through the sleeve of
my coat, but none reached her. One took a horse in the neck, and the
poor creature screamed pitifully. Presently there was a wild confusion
of maddened beasts, with the torch burning on the ground and lighting
the whole place for the enemy. I had Elspeth in my arms, and was
carrying her to the gate, when over the palisade I saw yellow limbs and
fierce faces.

They saw it too--Ringan and the rest--and it did not need his cry to
keep our posts to tell us the right course. The inner palisade which
shut off the horses must now be our line of defence, and the poor
beasts must be left to their fate. But Elspeth and I had still to get
inside it.

Her ankle had caught in a picket rope, which in another second would
have wrenched it cruelly, had I not slashed it free with my knife. This
sent the horse belonging to it in wild career across the corral, and I
think 'twas that interruption which saved our lives. It held back the
savages for an instant of time, and prevented them blocking our escape.
It all took place in the flutter of an eye-lid, though it takes long in
the telling. I pushed Elspeth through the door, and with all my
strength tore at the bars.

But they would not move. Perhaps the rain had swollen the logs, and
they had jammed too tightly to let the bar slide in the groove. So I
found myself in that gate, the mad horses and the savages before me,
and my friends at my back, with only my arm to hold the post.

I had my musket and my two pistols--three shots, for there would be no
time to reload. A yellow shadow slipped below a horse's b