“Ha! I must hunt you to death, or my triumph will not be complete. Come, now, hand over your funds, for I must hasten to other matters.”
“Never, sir! You will never get them from me until you take them from my dead body, and that, I warn you, will never be, for—villain, you die!”
Mr. Ellerton had spoken with a calm, defiant air, and as he muttered the last words he hastily pulled a pistol from his breast, and leveling it at his enemy, fired!
Just an instant too late! for Squire Moulton darted like a flash to one side, and the ball sped harmlessly across the narrow passage, and flattened itself against the impenetrable rock beyond.
Mr. Ellerton then drew another pistol from its hiding-place, and calmly awaited what should follow.
Squire Moulton, from his position of safety, realized the danger he should be in if he revealed himself, and taking a silver whistle from his pocket he blew it.
Immediately footsteps were heard, and two rough-looking men appeared. Both of them cast baleful glances at the squire from beneath their shaggy brows, showing at once that they were not friends of his, although they might be obliged to obey him for the present.
One of them glanced eagerly within the cell, and his eyes lighted peculiarly as he caught sight of the firm, defiant form within.
“Go within and bind that man. Search him thoroughly, and bring me whatever you may find about his person,” commanded Squire Moulton, as they appeared.
“Hold!” cried Mr. Ellerton. “I have no wish to shed blood, but I warn you, that the first one who attempts to lay his hand upon me, dies. I only act in self-defense.”