At that moment George, who was watching at another eye-hole, saw in a corner near the house a fire smouldering on the ground. A dozen blanketed figures were crouching around it. Presently they rose, and, carrying each a long and heavy fence-rail blazing at the end, made a rush around the back of the house, and, with a thundering crash and a succession of terrific whoops, pounded the stout oaken door of the kitchen with the burning rails. It was as if that barbaric yell in one instant wakened the house and converted it into a fortress. Lights shone at every window, the negroes appearing as if by magic, and Lord Fairfax in a dressing-gown, but with a musket in his hand, opening his door. Lance and George had made a rush for the armory, and each seized an armful of muskets. The negroes were each given a musket, and stationed at an eye-hole. Meanwhile the pounding at the kitchen door continued, and shook the house from end to end. Stout as the oaken planking was, it seemed impossible that it could long withstand such assaults.
"It is the first time the red rascals have ever had sense enough to try and batter that door down. Before this they have tried the front door," said Lance, as he and George took their station at the end of the short covered way that led to the kitchen.
The Earl by this time had put on his clothes and had joined Lance and George.
"I think the door is giving way, sir," said George, quietly, to Lord Fairfax, as the sound of breaking timbers mingled with the screech of the savages.
"I know it, sir," added Lance, grimly. "We can keep the scoundrels out of the front door by stationing men in the half-story above, but there is no way of defending the kitchen door from the inside."
"How many Indians do you think you saw, George?" asked Lord Fairfax, as coolly as if he were asking the number of cabbages in a garden.
"At least a dozen, sir."
"Then if you saw a dozen there were certainly fifty,"' was the Earl's remark. The next moment a louder crash than before showed the door had given way, and in another instant the narrow passageway swarmed with Indians. George, mechanically following Lance's movements, raised his musket and fired straight at the incoming mob—the first hostile shot of his life. He felt a strange quiver and tremor, and an acute sensitiveness to everything that was happening around him. He stood shoulder to shoulder with Lance, and Lord Fairfax quietly moved in front of him, which he thought strange.
THE FIGHT IN THE KITCHEN PASSAGE.