I had barely time to get back to my post at the front door when they were upon us. I fired out into the rabble, and as I turned to get another gun, Dorothy was at my side and thrust it into my hands. There was no time to protest, even had I not realized, as I glanced into her eyes, that protestation would be useless. I fired a second time, when a tremendous explosion in the hall at my side startled me. I saw in a moment what had happened. The negro who was at the other loophole, dazed with fear, had discharged his gun straight into the ceiling overhead, and then, flinging it down, turned and ran. I could not pursue him, and grabbing a third gun from Dorothy, I fired again at the Indians, some of whom were swarming up the steps. As I did so, I stared an instant in amazement, for at the shot two men had fallen. As I turned back for another musket, I saw Mrs. Stewart at the other loophole, a smoking rifle in her hands, into which she was feverishly ramming another charge. It was a sight that made my heart leap, and I found myself suddenly admiring her. But before either of us could fire again, the Indians were gone, and a chorus of yells and sharp firing told me they were attacking Brightson's side of the house. The noise died away after a moment, and they appeared again borne distance off, looking back eagerly as though expecting something.
I saw with a start that their firebrands were no longer in their hands, and a moment later a puff of smoke from the corner of the house and the exultant yells of the savages warned me of our new danger. As I turned from the door, I met Brightson coming to seek me with an anxious face.
"They have fired the house, Captain Stewart," he said.
"I fear so. We must find the place and put out the flames."
Without a word he turned and followed me, and we opened the shutters a little here and there and looked out. We soon found what we were seeking.
As the Indians had dashed around the house from front to rear, they had approached the side and piled their burning brands against the boards. We looked down from the window and saw that the house had already caught fire. In a few moments the flames would be beyond control. I was back to the hall in an instant.
"Is there any water in the house?" I asked of Mrs. Marsh, who was seated on the floor reloading our guns with a coolness which told me where her son had got his gallantry.
She looked at me an instant with face whitened by a new fear.
"Do you mean that the house is on fire?" she asked.
I nodded.