I now?"

Mr. Connolly and Jack joined them in the hall, and Neil had come up
from the kitchen door. The main entrance was evidently the weak
point, and the whole garrison must be on hand to defend it. The
assailants had waxed cautious of late, and for some time had allowed
the sharp-shooter no chance. He thought that he would be of more
service below; but, as it proved, when he abandoned his post he
committed a fatal error.

Apparently the enemy had discovered that the galling fire from
above had ceased. Perhaps some of their number had ventured out and
returned scatheless. They speedily took advantage of this immunity.
While the attacks with the pickaxe were not relaxed for a moment,
a score of men had brought the trunk of a young larch from the
saw-pit at the back of the house. Poised by forty strong arms,
this improvised battering-ram was hurled against the front door,
carrying it clear off its hinges. In the naked entry a crowd of
rough men jostled one another, as they sprang forward with hoarse
imprecations on their prey. The garrison was vanquished at last.

Not yet. Four shots rang out as one, instantly repeated as the
defenders discharged their second barrels into the very teeth of
the advancing mob. Then Mr. Connolly, Neil, and Jack clubbed the
guns they had no time to reload, and prepared to sell their lives
dearly in a hand-to-hand struggle. Polly, as soon as she had fired,
dropped her weapon, and in an instant Harold had swept her behind
him, and stood, revolver in hand, his breast her bulwark, confronting
the mob.