The Skeleton Crew rushed upon them, and for a time defeated the aim of Garnet’s musketry.
Fighting like a lion as he retreated to the gate of the Block-house, the brave smith continued to keep unharmed, making at the same time some little employment in the shape of ugly wounds to dress, in the persons of his rash assailants.
Once more they gave back before him, and again the musketry of Garnet was enabled to tell upon them.
A discharge from the Block-house in the meantime retorted with good effect the attack of the sailor, and taught a lesson of caution to Ned Warbeck, of which he soon availed himself.
Three of his men bit the dust in that single fire. The brave smith again reached the door with a single unwounded follower, himself unhurt.
His comrades threw open the entrance, but an instant too late. A parting shot from the muskets of the Skeleton Crew was made with a fatal effect.
The smith sank down upon the threshold as the bullet passed through his body.
The axe fell from his hand.
He grasped at it convulsively, and lay extended in part upon the sill of the door, when Garnet drew him in safety away.
“You are not hurt, my old fellow?” exclaimed Garnet, his voice trembling with the apprehensions which he felt.