Part 64 (1/2)

”Le Capitaine Dooncane,” cried a sharp fierce voice.

”Well?” said my father. ”I am Captain Duncan.”

”Open this door,” said the same voice, speaking in French.

”What if I refuse?” said my father in the same tongue.

”If you refuse it will be broken down--directly.”

”Is it the war?” said my father mockingly.

”It is the war,” was the reply. ”Open, and no harm will be done to you.

Resist, and there will be no quarter. Is it surrender?”

”Monsieur forgets that he is talking to an English officer,” said my father. ”Stand back, sir; we are well-armed and prepared.”

There was a low murmur of voices outside, and my father exclaimed:

”Sep, Bigley, upstairs with you and six men. Two of you to each window, and beat down with your cutla.s.ses all who try to board. Well keep the doors here. Now, my lads, tables and chairs against the doors. You'll find the wickets handy. I thought so; they're at the back door already.”

He darted to the back room, helped place a table against the door, mounted upon it, and as the blows of a crowbar were heard, he placed a pistol to the little wicket in the panel high up, and fired a shot to alarm the attacking party.

The blows of the crowbar ceased, and a low suppressed yell from many voices broke out from all round the little stone-built place.

”That has quieted them for the moment,” said my father; and, applying his eye to an aperture made for the purpose, he inspected the attacking force.

”French marines,” he said quietly. ”Well, my lads, they're outside and we are in. If they leave us alone we will not injure them, if they attack they must take the consequences. It is war time; they have landed, and we are fighting for our homes and all belonging to us. Will you fight?”

There was a low dull growl at this, uttered it seemed by every man present, and as my father's words had been distinctly heard upstairs, the men with Bigley and me joined in.

”That's good,” said my father. ”I thought so. Now once more trust to your strong aims and cutla.s.ses. A couple of shots and then swords.

They don't want loading again. If they break in we must retreat upstairs. If they prove too much for us and force their way up, we must hold out as long as we can, and then retreat by the north window and back up the west side of the valley among the big stones; but no retreat till I give the word. Now, my lads, do you want anything to make you fight?”

”Only the orders, captain,” said the foreman, ”or the French beggars to come on.”

”All in good time. What are they doing?” said my father. ”One shot can't have scared them off. Ah, the cowards! I expected as much.”

For just then a dull light shone in through the window, and made every bar clear. The dull light became brighter, and the Frenchmen set up a cheer.

”They've fired the big shed roof, sir,” said the foreman.

”Father,” I cried down the stairs, ”they have fired Sanders's cottage.”

”Curse 'em,” growled the foreman. ”I'll make pork crackling of somebody's skin for that.”

”Now they've gone on to the next cottage,” cried Bigley.

”They're firing all the cottages,” cried another of the men, and now the growl that rose from our little force was furious and fierce, and full of menace against the enemy, who had done this to give them ample light as I suppose.