The delivering host drew nigh, and then at a respectable distance halted and surveyed the scene of action.
Frank and Bob came on, however, without stopping, followed by Uncle Moses, after whom came the guide. Frank with his old fowling-piece, Bob with a pitchfork, Uncle Moses with a scythe, and the guide with a rope. What each one proposed to do was doubtful; but our travellers had never been strong on weapons of war, and the generous Alban people seemed to be in the same situation.
As Frank and his companions moved nearer, the rest of the multitude took courage and followed, though in an irregular fashion.
Soon Frank came near enough to speak.
"Is he there yet?" was his first remark.
"Yes," said Clive.
"Where?"
"At the left end of the lower room, under a pile of fagots."
"Can't you manage to drive him out, so that I can get a shot at him?" asked Frank, proudly brandishing his weapon.
"O, no. We can't do anything."