In our terrible need for haste, and amid the thick, swirling smoke filling that inner room almost to suffocation, I grasped the woman chancing to be nearest me, without knowing at the moment who she was. Already the rifle-butts were splintering the light wood behind us into staves, and I hastily dragged my dazed companion forward. The others were in advance, and we groped our way like blind persons out into the hall. By rare good fortune it was yet unoccupied, and as we took the few hurried steps toward the foot of the stairs I found my arm was encircling Celia Minor. The depth of despair within her dark eyes, and the speechless anguish of her white face, swept for an instant the fierce rage of battle from my brain.
“Do not fail us now, Miss Minor,” I urged kindly, “we may yet hold out until help comes.”
“Oh, it is not that!” she cried pitifully. “But Arthur; where is Arthur?”
“God knows,” I was compelled to answer. “I saw him fronting the first rush when it struck us. I think he went down, yet he may not be seriously hurt.”
She burst into tears, but I had no time to comfort her, for at that moment the mob, discovering our direction of escape, jammed both doorways and surged forth howling into the hall.
“Up!” I cried, forcing her forward. “Up with you; quick!”
I paused a scant second to pluck a sabre from beside a dead soldier on the floor, and then with a spring up the intervening steps, faced about at Brennan's side on the first landing.
“We ought to leave our mark on those incarnate devils here,” he said grimly, wiping his red blade on the carpet.
“Unless they reach the second story from without, and take us in the rear,” I answered, “we ought to hold back the whole cowardly crew, so long as they refuse to fire.”
It was a scene to abide long with a man—a horrible nightmare, never to be forgotten. Above us, protected somewhat by the abrupt curve of the wide staircase, crouched the women. Two were sobbing, their heads buried in their hands, but Maria and Mrs. Brennan sat white of face and dry-eyed. I caught one quick glance at the fair face I loved,—my sweet lady of the North,—thinking, indeed, it might prove the last on earth, and knew her eyes were upon me. Then, stronger of heart than ever for the coming struggle, I fronted that scene below.