will do so;
but there may be delay. If the pursuers are close at hand, I shall
fire at the foremost, and methinks I shall not miss. My hands will
be thus occupied. It must be your task to swing to and shut the
gate behind the pursued. If any assailant strive to follow, strike
him down without mercy. Methinks a woman's arm can deal a hard
blow! I trow mine could. But, above all, be it your task to guard
the gate. Is it understood?"

"It is!" answered both girls in a breath.

They looked back at the house, so close behind them that it was
hard to feel afraid. The door stood ajar, and faces peered out into
the darkness; but Mistress Dowsabel's shrill voice was still heard
within, and she was plainly hindering any of the servants from
going forth to the assistance of the brave girls without, terrified
almost out of her wits at what might occur.

The high wall hid the road from the three who stood beside the
gate, but the gasping breath of the horses could now be heard,
whilst the fierce cries of pursuit had changed to an ominous
silence, as though not even a breath was to be wasted--every nerve
being strained to the effort of the chase.

It was terrible to be able to see nothing. Petronella suddenly made
a rush towards the wall, and finding foothold here and there in the
chinks of the brick work, contrived to swing upwards her light
frame till she could look over the top.

"There be three pursued," she cried to those below; "and methinks
the hindermost is wounded, he sways so terribly in the saddle. The
pursuers are close behind; it seems well nigh as if they must come
up with them.

"Oh, well done, good horses; oh, well done!

"Kate, they be close at hand; they are making for the gate as a
dove to its nest!"

Then Kate suddenly threw both doors wide and stood out in the dim
moonlight.

"Fling yourselves from your horses, gentlemen, and come in!" she
cried, in clear, penetrating tones. "There is shelter behind these
walls. And the first man who dares to follow I shoot dead!"

Then as the foremost horseman obeyed her, flinging himself from the
saddle, and staggering rather than walking within the gates, at
either one of which stood one of the two girlish guardians, ready
at a moment's notice to fling them together again, a quick sharp
cry broke from Kate's lips, together with the one word:

"Father!"

The second horseman was now within the gates; the third was close
behind. But there was a yell as of trium