und of breaking wood. The light grew brighter and brighter.

"They will be coming soon," Mr. Atherton said. "Do not throw away a
shot. The shingles on this roof are as dry as tinder, and if a burning
brand falls on them the place will be in a blaze in five minutes. Now!"
As he spoke a number of natives, each carrying a flaming brand, appeared
from behind the wood shed. The three rifles cracked out, and as many
natives fell. The farmer began to reload his rifle, while Mr. Atherton
and Wilfrid handed theirs to Mrs. Renshaw, who at that moment joined
them, and opened fire with their revolvers. Only two of Wilfrid's shots
told, but Mr. Atherton's aim was as steady as when firing at a mark. Two
of the natives fell, and four others, throwing down their brands, ran
back wounded to the shelter of the wood shed. Their companions, after a
moment's hesitation, followed their example. There were now but six
unwounded men out of the twenty who attacked the house.

"There is one of them off for assistance!" Wilfrid exclaimed as he
caught sight of a figure running at full speed from the shed. In another
moment he was lost in the darkness.

"Now is the time for us to make our escape," Mr. Atherton said, turning
from the window. "We have succeeded so far, but there may be three times
as many next time, and we must be off. We will get out by a window at
the back of the house and try and make our way across country to the
Mahia tribe. We shall be safe there."

"But Wilfrid cannot walk a hundred yards," Mrs. Renshaw said.

"Then we must carry him," Mr. Atherton replied cheerfully. "He is no
great weight, and we can make a litter when we get far enough away. Take
a loaf of bread, Mrs. Sampson, a bottle or two of water, and a flask of
spirits. You will find one full on my table. Please hurry up, for there
is not a moment to lose. I will stay here to the last moment and fire an
occasional shot at the shed to let them know that we are still here."

As the course Mr. Atherton advised was evidently the best, the others
followed his instructions without discussion, and three minutes later
stepped out from the back window into the garden. Mr. Atherton had been
told that they were ready, and after firing a last shot from the window
and reloading his rifle joined them. Mrs. Sampson had a small basket on
one arm, and her child, who was ten years old, grasping her hand. Mrs.
Renshaw had taken charge of Wilfrid's rifle, and had offered him her
arm