"Send for help to Rosemead and to Fitzhugh and Ludwell!" cried the divine.
"Five men and three women to hold this house against a hundred Indians and negroes! And no help could come for hours and it is now nearly ten! Moreover, the messenger would have to pass through the savages lying in the woods,—he would never reach Rosemead with his scalp on!"
"I will be your messenger," said Nash rising, "and as every moment is more precious than rubies, I had best start at once."
"You, Anthony! God forbid!" cried the Colonel. "You would go to certain death."
"I would stay to certain death, would I not?" retorted the other. "But my mare, Pixie, and I can shew clean heels to the red villains, were they as thick as chinquepins. Give me the stable-key, Verney. I know the way to the jade's stall, and she will follow her master through fire and water without a whinny. I don't want a light. Not a soul on the place must know that I have left Verney Manor."
"Anthony, Anthony, I am loth to see you go, old friend!" cried the Colonel.
"Tut, tut, as well leave my scalp in the woods as in Dick Verney's parlor! but I shall do neither. Hold the house as long as you can, and look for Carrington, and Fitzhugh, and Ludwell, and myself with a hundred men at our heels before the dawn. Until then vale."
He was gone. "And now the doors and windows," said Sir Charles.
"The windows, save those in this room, are secured as they always are at night. The shutters are heavy and strongly barred, and we have but to draw the chains across the doors. They will find it hard work to fire the house, for the logs are wet from this morning's shower. There is ammunition enough, and the shutters are loopholed. If we were in force, we might hold out, but, my God! what can we do? Even with the overseers whom we must manage to call to us, if we can do so without arousing suspicion, we are not enough to defend one face of the house.'
"Are there no honest servants?"