east I am not
fearful: I must remain near you and reload the arms--a task in which I
am well practised."

"No, no," replied Philip, "you might be hurt."

"I may. But think you I will remain here idly, when I can assist one
who risks his life for me? I know my duty, sir, and I shall perform
it."

"You must not risk your life, Amine," replied Philip; "my aim will not
be steady if I know that you're in danger. But I must take the arms
into the other chamber, for the time is come."

Philip, assisted by Amine, carried the carbines and pistols into the
adjoining chamber; and Amine then left Philip, carrying with her the
light. Philip, as soon as he was alone, opened the casement and looked
out--there was no one to be seen; he listened, but all was silent. The
moon was just rising above the distant hill, but her light was dimmed by
fleecy clouds, and Philip watched for a few minutes; at length he heard
a whispering below. He looked out, and could distinguish through the
dark the four expected assailants, standing close to the door of the
house. He walked away softly from the window, and went into the next
room to Amine, whom he found busy preparing the ammunition.

"Amine, they are at the door, in consultation. You can see them now
without risk. I thank them, for they will convince you that I have told
the truth."

Amine, without reply, went into the front room and looked out of the
window. She returned, and laying her hand upon Philip's arm, she
said--"Grant me your pardon for my doubts. I fear nothing now but that
my father may return too soon, and they seize him."

Philip left the room again, to make his reconnoissance. The robbers did
not appear to have made up their mind--the strength of the door defied
their utmost efforts, so they attempted stratagem. They knocked, and as
there was no reply, they continued to knock louder and louder: not
meeting with success, they held another consultation, and the muzzle of
a carbine was then put to the keyhole, and the piece discharged. The
lock of the door was blown off, but the iron bars which crossed the door
within, above and below, still held it fast.

Although Philip would have been justified in firing upon the robbers
when he first perceived them in consultation at the door, still there is
that feeling in a generous mind which prevents the taking away of life,
except from stern necessity; and this feeling made him withhold his fire
until hostilities had