Part 64 (1/2)

Another rifle explosion followed, which was succeeded by a loud, long shriek.

”An attack!” cried one of the men, with a deep curse. They listened still, yet did not move away from the place, for the duty to which they had been a.s.signed was still prominent in their minds. The priest had already risen to his feet, still smoking his pipe, as though in this new turn of affairs its a.s.sistance might be more than ever needed to enable him to preserve his presence of mind, and keep his soul serene in the midst of confusion.

And now they saw all around them the signs of agitation. Figures in swift motion flitted to and fro amidst the shade, and others darted past the smouldering fires. In the midst of this another shot sounded, and another, and still another. At the third there was a wild yell of rage and pain, followed by the shrill cry of a woman's voice. The fact was evident that some one of the brigands had fallen, and the women were lamenting.

The confusion grew greater. Loud cries arose; calls of encouragement, of entreaty, of command, and of defiance. Over by the old house there was the uproar of rus.h.i.+ng men, and in the midst of it a loud, stern voice of command. The voices and the rus.h.i.+ng footsteps moved from the house to the woods. Then all was still for a time.

It was but for a short time, however. Then came shot after shot in rapid succession. The flashes could be seen among the trees. All around them there seemed to be a struggle going on. There was some unseen a.s.sailant striking terrific blows from the impenetrable shadow of the woods. The brigands were firing back, but they fired only into thick darkness. Shrieks and yells of pain arose from time to time, the direction of which showed that the brigands were suffering. Among the a.s.sailants there was neither voice nor cry. But, in spite of their losses and the disadvantage under which they labored, the brigands fought well, and resisted stubbornly. From time to time a loud, stern voice arose, whose commands resounded far and wide, and sustained the courage of the men and directed their movements.

The men who guarded the priest and Ethel were growing more and more excited every moment, and were impatient at their enforced inaction.

”They must be soldiers,” said one.

”Of course,” said another.

”They fight well.”

”Ay; better than the last time.”

”How did they learn to fight so well under cover?”

”They've improved. The last time we met them we shot them like sheep, and drove them back in five minutes.”

”They've got a leader who understands fighting in the woods. He keeps them under cover.”

”Who is he?”

”Diavolo! who knows? They get new captains every day.”

”Was there not a famous American Indian--”

”True. I heard of him. An Indian warrior from the American forests.

Guiseppe saw him when he was at Rome.”

”Bah!--you all saw him.”

”Where?”

”On the road.”

”We didn't.”

”You did. He was the Zouave who fled to the woods first.”

”He?”

”Yes.”

”Diavolo!”

These words were exchanged between them as they looked at the fighting. But suddenly there came rapid flashes and rolling volleys beyond the fires that lay before them, and the movement of the flashes showed that a rush had been made toward the lake. Wild yells arose, then fierce returning fires, and these showed that the brigands were being driven back.