For there was another shot, then another, and another, till quite a dozen had rung out, each growing more and more distant; and as the young men dashed to the door now and threw it open, they saw flashes of light as other shots were fired. Then came shouting, voices calling to one another.
“Some of the lads heard the firing at last, and come to our help,” said Dallas.
“Look out; there’s some one coming back,” whispered Abel.
“I hear him. Be ready, and if he’s an enemy let him have it. Hah! Bravo! Good dog! You’re not so very bad, then.”
For at the sound of the heavy footsteps coming at a trot over the creaking snow Scruff uttered a fierce growl, began to bay and dashed out into the darkness.
“He’ll have him,” said Dallas. “But come on; we mustn’t leave it all to him.”
“Hullo there!” came in a cheery, familiar voice. “Good old dog!” and Scruff’s fierce bay changed to a whining yelp of pleasure, while Tregelly’s hearty cry of “Ahoy!” came.
“Ahoy! Ahoy!” was sent out joyfully in answer, and directly after the big Cornishman came trotting up.
“Thank God, my sons,” he cried. “But what about that chap on the roof? Did I bring him down with those two shots?”
“Was it you that fired?” cried the young men in a breath.