g basket-hilted
rapier in his hand, parrying or dodging their blows with wonderful
adroitness, and every now and then putting in a thrust in return.
Hard pressed as he was, his set resolute face, firm mouth, and bright
well-opened eyes spoke of a bold spirit within, while the blood which
dripped from the sleeve of one of his opponents proved that the contest
was not so unequal as it might appear. Even as we gazed he sprang back
to avoid a fierce rush of the furious soldiers, and by a quick sharp
side stroke he severed the rope by which the victim was hung. The body
fell with a heavy thud upon the brick floor, while the little swordsman
danced off in a moment into another quarter of the room, still stopping
or avoiding with the utmost ease and skill the shower of blows which
rained upon him.

This strange scene held us spell-bound for a few seconds, but there was
no time for delay, for a slip or trip would prove fatal to the gallant
stranger. Rushing into the chamber, sword in hand, we fell upon the
dragoons, who, outnumbered as they were, backed into a corner and struck
out fiercely, knowing that they need expect no mercy after the devil's
work in which they had been engaged. Holloway, our sergeant of horse,
springing furiously in, laid himself open to a thrust which stretched
him dead upon the ground. Before the dragoon could disengage his weapon,
Sir Gervas cut him down, while at the same moment the stranger got past
the guard of his antagonist, and wounded him mortally in the throat.
Of the four red-coats not one escaped alive, while the bodies of our
sergeant and of the old couple who had been the first victims increased
the horror of the scene.

'Poor Holloway is gone,' said I, placing my hand over his heart. 'Who
ever saw such a shambles? I feel sick and ill.'

'Here is eau-de-vie, if I mistake not,' cried the stranger, clambering
up on a chair and reaching a bottle from the shelf. 'Good, too, by the
smell. Take a sup, for you are as white as a new-bleached sheet.'

'Honest warfare I can abide, but scenes like this make my blood run
cold,' I answered, taking a gulp from the flask. I was a very young
soldier then, my dears, but I confess that to the end of my campaigns
any form of cruelty had the same effect upon me. I give you my word that
when I went to London last fall the sight of an overworked, raw-backed
cart-horse straining with its load, and flogged for not doing that which
it could not do, gave me grea