A Soldier of Virginia Part 31

"I fear so. We must find the place and put out the flames."

Without a word he turned and followed me, and we opened the shutters a little here and there and looked out. We soon found what we were seeking.

As the Indians had dashed around the house from front to rear, they had approached the side and piled their burning brands against the boards. We looked down from the window and saw that the house had already caught fire. In a few moments the flames would be beyond control. I was back to the hall in an instant.

"Is there any water in the house?" I asked of Mrs. Marsh, who was seated on the floor reloading our guns with a coolness which told me where her son had got his gallantry.

She looked at me an instant with face whitened by a new fear.

"Do you mean that the house is on fire?" she asked.

I nodded.

"There is no water," she said very quietly. "The well is a hundred yards from the house."

I beckoned to the negroes, who were listening in an anxious group, and hastened back to Brightson.

"There is no water," I said to him briefly. "I am going to open the shutter, drop down, and knock the fire away from the house. Do you be ready to pull me back in again, when I have finished."

"But it is death to do that," he exclaimed.

"No, no," I said. "You and the boys can keep them off. There is no other way."

He turned from me and looked about the room.

"This will save you," he cried, and ran to a heavy oak table which stood in one corner. I looked at him for a moment without understanding.

"We will throw it through the window," he explained. "You can drop behind it, and the Indians' bullets cannot reach you."

I saw his plan before he had finished, and we had the table at the window in an instant.

"Now, boys, all together," I cried, and as I threw the shutter back, they lifted the table to the sill and pushed it through. Before the Indians understood what was happening, I had dropped beside it, pulled it around to screen me, and was kicking the brands away from the building. Then they understood, and made a rush for the house, but met so sharp a reception from Brightson and his men that they fell back, and contented themselves with keeping up a sharp fusilade upon my place of concealment. It was the work of only a few moments to kick away the brands and beat out the flames which were running along the side of the house. I signaled to Brightson that I was ready to return, and he opened a heavy fire upon the savages, which drove them for a moment out of musket range. Then throwing the shutter back, he leaned out, grasped my hands, and pulled me into the house without a scratch.

"That's what I call genius," he observed, as he clapped the shutter tight and shot the bar into place. "I fancy they're getting about enough."

"I trust so," I answered. "But in any event, our troops will be here in two or three hours more."

We stood for some time in silence and watched the Indians. They drew together near one of the burning buildings, apparently for a consultation, and then running to a cabin which had not yet been consumed, they tore off the heavy door and shutters.

"They haven't given it up yet," remarked Brightson grimly, "but they're going to advance under cover this time."

Evidently some further preparation was necessary, for half a dozen of them worked away busily for some time, though we could not see what they were doing.

"What new deviltry are they up to now?" I heard Brightson mutter to himself, but I could find no answer to his question, for I knew little of this kind of warfare.

It was soon answered by the Indians themselves. A dozen of them ran around the house in different directions, each carrying a board, while the others, after paying a last visit to the cask of rum, grouped themselves opposite the rear door, but well out of range. We watched them in breathless silence. Those who were armed with s.h.i.+elds approached nearer and nearer, until within perhaps fifty yards. We fired at them, but seemingly without effect. Then there was a moment of anxious waiting, and almost together a dozen streamers of fire rose high into the air and descended toward the house. Some fell harmlessly on the ground without, and we saw that they were arrows tipped with burning tow, but the most must have fallen upon the roof. A second and third shower of fire followed, and then the Indians withdrew behind their s.h.i.+elds and quietly awaited the result.

"They have set fire to the roof," I gasped. "We must put it out at once, or we are lost."

"Leave that to me, Captain Stewart," said Brightson quietly, and I never admired the courage of a man more than I did his at that moment.

"I will get out on the roof, and throw the arrows down. I don't believe they can hit me."

It was the only thing to do, and he was gone even as I nodded my a.s.sent.

Five minutes pa.s.sed, and then the Indians began to yell again, and I knew that Brightson had reached the roof. Almost at the same instant, the main body of the savages advanced at a run, some of them carrying a heavy log, the others holding boards in front of them. We sent a dozen bullets among them before they reached the door, but they came on without faltering. One man, very tall and clad in a suit of fringed buckskin, ran in front and urged them on. I fired at him twice, but he came on as before, and I knew that I had wasted the bullets.

Up the steps they came, yelling like devils fresh from h.e.l.l, and brought the log cras.h.i.+ng against the door, while others thrust their muskets through the loopholes and fired into the hallway. One of the negroes sank down without a groan, the blood spurting from his neck, and another dropped his gun with a yell, and, clapping his hands to his face, ran shrieking down the hall.

Again the log thundered against the door, one of the bars sprung loose, and half a dozen shots were fired into the hallway. I saw that the door could hold but a moment longer, and shouting to the negroes to fall back, I retreated to the stair, grabbing up a hanger as I pa.s.sed the place where we had piled the arms. Running back again, I caught up a bag of powder and another of ball, so that we might not be utterly without ammunition, and with these sped up the stair, pus.h.i.+ng the women before me.

We were not an instant too soon, for the door crashed down at the next blow, and the savages poured over the threshold. They paused a moment to see what had become of us, and this gave us opportunity to pour a volley into them. Then on they came, the man in buckskin still leading them. As they reached the foot of the stair, I took steady aim at him with my pistol and pulled the trigger. But he seemed to have some intuition of his danger, for he stooped suddenly, and it was the man behind him who threw up his hands, sprang into the air, and fell backward. They faltered only for an instant, and then swarmed up the steps, their greased faces gleaming in the powder flashes. I thought it as good as ended, and throwing down my musket, caught up my hanger for a final stand, when something was thrown past me and bounded down the stair. It swept half the Indians off their feet and carried them down before it, and the others, not knowing what had happened, turned and ran down after them.

Nor, indeed, did I know until afterward, when I learned that Brightson, coming down from the roof and taking in our peril at a glance, had caught up a great log from the fireplace in the upper hall, where it was awaiting the winter lighting, and, with a strength little short of superhuman, had hurled it down upon the savages.

It gave us respite for a moment, but it was certain they would charge again, and I knew too well what the result would be, for the last of the negroes had flung down his gun and run away, leaving only Brightson and me to guard the women. It was Mrs. Marsh who spoke the saving word.

"Why not retreat to the roof?" she said. "They could not get at us there."

It was the only chance of safety, so to the roof we went, the women first, and we two bringing up the rear. Once there, we closed the trap and waited. In a moment we heard the yell which told us that our retreat had been discovered, and then again came silence.

"This is no ordinary Indian attack," said Brightson, who was wiping the sweat and powder stains from his face. "There's a Frenchman leading them, and maybe two or three. Did you see that fellow in buckskin who ran in front?"

"Yes," I answered gloomily. "I have fired at him three times, but always missed him."

"Well, he is no Indian," said Brightson, "in spite of his painted face.

If they hadn't had that cask of rum and him to lead them, they would have cleared out of this long ago. They have no stomach for this kind of work, unless they are full of liquor."

The sky in the east was turning from black to gray, and the dawn was not far distant.

"Our troops will soon be here," I said, and went to the women where they were crouching behind a protecting gable. Dorothy, her mother, and Mrs.

Marsh were sitting side by side, and they all smiled at me as I approached.

"I think we are safe here," I said as cheerily as I could, "and the reinforcements cannot be far away. I know Colonel Was.h.i.+ngton too well to think he would delay a moment longer than necessary to start to our relief."

"You have made a brave defense, Captain Stewart," said Mrs. Marsh earnestly. "I realize what would have been our fate long ere this, had you not been here."

"Nay, madame," I interrupted, "I could have done little by myself. I have learned to-night that the women of Virginia are no less gallant than the men."

"Come, come," laughed Dorothy, "this is not a drawing-room that you need think you must flatter us, Tom."

I glanced at Mrs. Stewart, and saw with some surprise that she too was smiling.

"'Twas not flattery," I protested, "but a simple statement of fact. And there is another here," I added, turning to Mrs. Marsh, "whose conduct should be remembered. I have never seen a braver man," and I glanced at Brightson where he sat, his musket across his knees.

"I shall remember it," she said, as she followed my eyes.

A burst of yells and a piercing cry from below interrupted us.

"What was that?" asked Dorothy, white to the lips.