At this moment a crash was heard below; the door had yielded, and the crowd rushed into the lower part of the house. When it was found to be empty there was a little delay. No one cared to be the first to mount the stairs, and encounter the determined band above. Dick stepped forward to glance at the state of things below, when half a dozen pistol-shots were fired. One inflicted a nasty cut on his cheek, and another struck him on the hand.
"Are you hurt, Dick?" Ned said, as his brother leaped back.
"No, nothing to speak of; but it was a close shave. Perkins, pick up my sword, will you? I didn't think of their firing."
"Being indoors, they are not afraid of the pistols being heard any distance," Ned said. "Keep a sharp lookout, lads, in case they make a rush upstairs, while I tie up my brother's hand and face."
"They are coming, sir," the sailors cried, as the house shook with the rush of a body of men up the stairs.
"Stand well back, lads, and cut them down as they enter the door."
Pushed from behind, five or six of the enemy burst simultaneously into the room; but ere they could fire a pistol, or even put themselves into an attitude of defense, they were cut down or run through the body. Then a tremendous crash and a wild cry was heard.
"Hurrah!" Dick shouted, "the staircase has given way."
Many groans and shrieks were heard below; then there was a sound of persons being carried out, and for awhile, quiet below, while outside the hubbub became greater.
"What is going on outside?" Ned said, and Dick and he peered through the closed jalousies into the street.