Sunday School. Ef they can, they 're a-goin't' tek us dead er
'live. Ef they ever tuk us we would n't be wuth shucks, nuther on
us, efter court martial."

"I shall not permit you to go," said the baroness. "They may be
here now, about the house in the dark. They would shoot you, they
would stab you, they would cause you to die as you went. No, I
shall permit you not to go, There are four of them? Very well, we
shall fight here, we shall conquer. We have a general, a count, a
millionnaire, a marquis, a lawyer, an astronomer, a scout, and,"
she added, patting me on the shoulder, "_le brave capitaine_! I
have four guns and three pistols, and M'sieur Bell has arms also.
We shall conquer. We shall make them to bite the dust."

"Guns; did ye say? Jerushy Jane! Le' 's hev 'em," said D'ri.

"What did he call me? Mon Dieu! Jerushy Jane! It is not I," said
the baroness.

Again I explained the difficulty.

"Ain't very proper-spoke," said D'ri, apologetically. "Jest wan't'
say et them 'air guns er likely t' come handy here 'most any
minute. Give us guns, 'n' we 'll sock it to 'em."

"We shall sock it to them, we shall indeed," said she, hurrying out
of the room. "We shall make them to run for their lives."

They were all in the dining room--the men of the party--save the
general, who could not he awakened. Guns and pistols were loaded.