“Another attack!” exclaimed Carteret. “Quick, Amherst, or they’ll be swarming about our ears. Take charge of your men again. It is our last chance!”

“And my parole?” I asked, coldly.

“Is not required. You are not on parole. You are free.”

Out dashed Carteret, tossing the pardon to Lucille.

“It will be a battle to the death,” he called back.

Simon, who looked the picture of disappointed rage, hurried from the room. I had only time to embrace and kiss Lucille, to tell her to keep up a brave heart, and then I rushed out to take my place among my men.

The din was terrific. Added to the yells of the savages, and the gun shots, were the cries of defiance from those within the stockade who had rallied to the fight, discharging their muskets as fast as they could load. So quickly had the attack of the Indians been met, due to the vigilance of the sentinels, that only a few of the red men gained the top of the palisades. These had been shot down, and the van of the storming force had been obliged 295to retreat, but they fired from behind rocks and trees, some of the bullets wounding our soldiers.

I reached the stockade at a point where there were none of my men, just as one savage, his scalp lock gay with feathers, gained the top of the posts, and with reckless bravery leaped down inside. No sooner had he recovered his footing than he dashed straight at me. I was so surprised at the suddenness of his appearance and action, that I stood still for a moment.

The Indian raised his arm, there was a flash of light, and his tomahawk grazed my temple, cutting the skin slightly. Then the fellow sprang at me. But my sword was out, and ere he reached me I had run him through the body. So he never threw any more tomahawks.

The attack on the fort was becoming more fierce every second. I was startled to see that the sun had gone down, and that it would be dark in a little while. This was borne upon me when I saw the ruddy reflection of a fire which the Indians had kindled in front of the block. It shone on the logs, but cast into shadow the savages who were behind it. Thus they could see whatever went on in the place, while we were blinded by the glare, and could not observe them.

Our only hope lay in keeping up a rapid fire, so that they might not get near enough to charge. And this hope was bound to become futile soon. Indeed our position was most trying. I was encouraging my men all I could, 296firing a musket every time I saw so much as a finger of the enemy exposed, and all the while trying to devise some plan to beat off the foe when Captain Carteret sent a messenger to bid me come to him. Telling the men to be as sparing of the powder as they could, and to never leave the loops for an instant, I went to the commander.

I found him loading and firing away at a great rate. He took me to one side.

“I’ve been noticing some sort of a movement among the Indians at the rear of the place,” he said. “I fear they are up to some trick. It looks as if they were carrying brush and branches of trees about.”

“That means but one thing,” I said.

“What?”

“They are going to smoke and burn us out. Going to try us by fire as well as by bullets.”

“To the tower,” he rejoined, “we can see what they are doing from there.”

It was as I had said. Already the savages had piled up a big heap of brush within a short distance of the north wall of the palisade.

“Well,” said Carteret grimly, “I guess they mean to get at us after all.”

“It looks so,” said I.

“Have you any plan?” inquired the Captain.

“Have you?” I asked, but he made no reply.

The sight of one of our men rolling out a keg of powder, from which to distribute a supply, gave me an idea.

297“How much powder have we?” I asked of Carteret.

“Three kegs,” he answered. “Two of a hundred and fifty pounds’ weight each, and one smaller.”

“It might serve,” I said, half to myself.

“What?” asked my companion.

Then I told him a plan I had. We went down from the tower.

“Bring the powder here,” I said, “the two large barrels,” and it was fetched by four men, two carrying a keg between them. At my direction they also got some strong rope. I called Carteret out of hearing of the men.

“What I am going to do has some danger in it,” I said, “and, seeing that I may not return, I charge you to care for--for Mistress Lucille, after--well--after I am dead.”

“She shall be to me as my own daughter,” he exclaimed, grasping my hand heartily.

“This is what I will do,” I said. “The Indians are so busy carrying brush now that they are giving little heed to aught else, even to each other. I believe I can go out among them under cover of the dark, escape detection, and help them at their work.”

“What serves that?”

“Much, I hope,” was my reply. “I did not tell you all of the plan before. My brush will be of good barrel staves, and within those same staves will be powder. I will hide the two barrels in the brush-heap, which I can easily do in the confusion, light the slow matches fastened to them, 298come back to the block--if I can--then wait for what happens.”

“What will happen?”

“If all goes as I hope,” I said, “the Indians will be gathered about the brush heap setting it on fire. Then will come my explosion.”

“Good!” exclaimed Carteret. “That ought to serve our purpose. If it only kills enough of the devils the rest will be so frightened that they will not remain long in the neighborhood of Elizabeth. But can you unaided carry those two barrels over the palisade?”

“I have done heavier things,” I answered, thinking of the Salem press.

“It is a risk,” remarked the Captain. “Once among them it will go hard with you if their lynx eyes spy you out.”

“Which is just what I do not intend them to do,” I said. “There is a dead Indian within the stockade. I will put on his feathers, adopt his style of dress, and play at being a savage.”

“’Tis somewhat foolhardy,” commented Carteret, “but you are a brave man, and we have need of such now.”

“Any man would be brave, if he fought for what I do,” was the reply.

“Then go,” responded the commander, “and may the Lord go with you.”

So I made my preparations.

It was a matter of a few minutes to strip from the 299dead Indian his feathered head-dress with which I managed to decorate myself so that, in the dark, I might pass for a red man. I took off my jacket and trousers, slipping on the breeches of the savage, and, when thus attired I rubbed the upper part of my body, my face and hands, with damp powder, so that my white skin might not betray me.

During this time the firing was not so brisk, either within or without, for our men were saving their powder, and the Indians were busy heaping up brush. The pile was now as large as a house, being within a few feet of the stockade. It was between us and the foe, so we had little chance to fire at them on that side of the block.

It was fairly dark now, but we saw the savages snatching up brands from the fire they had kindled in front and running with them to the large heap.

Carteret helped me make my last arrangements. I selected a place to get over the stockade, that seemed to be somewhat screened from observation. The powder kegs were tied to a rope. I scaled the logs, got on top, hauled the barrels up, and let them down on the outside. Then I scrambled down. For the first time I was a little afraid. Not so much for what might happen to me, as for those I had left behind--for Lucille. It was no small risk, too, this taking of nearly all the powder from the fort. But it seemed the best we could do.

At the foot of the stockade I fastened............