The Heart

I stood there, feeling like a deserter from the ranks, yet bound to

keep the door of Laurel Creek, and I had a pistol in either hand and

so had Sir Humphrey Hyde, but for a minute nobody seemed to heed us.

Then as I stood there, I felt the door behind me yield a bit and a

hand was thrust out, and a voice whispered, "Harry, Harry, come in

hither; we can hold the house against an army."

My heart leapt, for it was Mary, and, quicker than a flash, I had my

mind made up. I turned upon Sir Humphrey and thrust him in before he

knew it, through the opening of the door, and called out to him to

bar and bolt as best he could inside, while I held the door. He,

whether he would or not, was in the house, and seeing some of the

soldiers riding our way with Captain Waller at their head, was

forced to clap to the door, and shoot the bolts, but as he did so I

heard a woman's shrill cry of agony ring out.

I stood there, and Captain Waller rode up with his soldiers, and

flashing his sword before my face like a streak of fire, bade me

surrender in the name of his Majesty, and stand aside. But I stood

still with my two pistols levelled, and had him full within range.

Captain Waller was a young man, and a brave one, and never to my

dying day shall I forget that face which I had the power to still

with death. He looked into the muzzles of my two pistols, and his

rosy colour never wavered, and he shouted out again to me his

command to surrender and stand aside in the name of the King, and I

stood still and made no reply. I knew that I could take two lives

and then struggle unarmed for perhaps a moment's space, and that all

the time saved might be precious for those in the house. At all

events, it was all that I could do for Mary Cavendish.

I held my pistols and watched his eyes, knowing well that all action

through having its source in the brain of man, gives first evidence

in the eyes. Then the time came when I saw his impulse to charge

start in his eyes, and I fired, and he fell. Then I fired again, but

wildly, for everything was in motion, and I know not whom I hit, if

any one, then I felt my own right leg sink under me and I knew that

I was hit. Then down on my knees I sank and put one arm through the

great latch of the door, and thrust out with my knife with the free

hand, and stout arms were at my shoulders striving to drag me away,

but they might as well for a time have tried to drag a bar of steel

from its fastenings. I thrust out here and there, and I trow my

steel drew blood, and I suppose my own flowed, for presently I was

kneeling in a widening circle of red. I cut those forcing hands from

my arm, and others came. It was one against a multitude, for the

rabble after hitting wild blows as often at their friends as at

their enemies had broken and fled, except those who were taken

prisoners. But the women stayed until the last and fought like wild

cats, with the exception of Madam Tabitha Story, who quietly got

upon her old horse, and ambled away, and cut down her own tobacco

until daybreak, pressing her slaves into service.