ose each one of us
felt the same--that we were a lot of poor weak children, in our folly
fighting against men. At least this is how I took it, and a sick
disdain of self for being no stronger rose in my throat. A moment and it
had passed. For I took "King George" in hand, and bidding Irma see that
little Louis was sleeping, I ran up the stairs to the open tower-top.
Here I had thought to be alone, but there before me, crouched behind the
ramparts and looking out upon a dim glade which led down towards the
landing-place at Killantringan, was Agnes Anne. In answer to my question
as to what she was doing there, she answered at first that she could see
in the dark better than I, and when I denied this she said that surely I
did not think she was going to be left down there alone, nearest to the
assailants if they should force a passage!

One should never encourage one's real sister in the belief that she can
ever by any chance do right. So I said at once that whether she was
behind the door or sitting on the weathercock at Marnhoul Tower would
make no difference if the people were enemies and once got in.

"Hush!" she said. "What is that I hear now?"

And from away down the glade came slow and steady blows like those which
a man might make as he lifts his axe and smites into the butt. There was
a sort of reverberation, too, as if the tree were hollow. But that might
only be the effect of the night, the stillness, and the heavy covert of
great woods which lay like a big green blanket all about us, and tossed
every sound back to us like a wall at ball-play.

"Oh, if we could only see what they were doing--who they are?" I
groaned. "I could go out quite safely by the door in the tower, but then
who would fire off 'King George'?"

"Toc! Toc!" came the sounds. And then a pause as if the woodsman had
straightened himself up and was wiping his brow. The timing of the
strokes was very slow. Probably, therefore, the labour itself was
fatiguing. Sometimes, too, the axe fell with a different swing, as if
other hands grasped it, but always with the same dull thudding and
irritating slowness.

Then Agnes Anne made an astonishing proposition.

"See here, Duncan," she whispered, "let _me_ out by the little postern
door at the foot of the tower. Miss Irma can watch behind it to let me
in if I come running back, and you stay on the top ready with 'King
George.' I will find out for you everything you want to know." And I got
ready to