Such were the facts.  The Indians had repelled the zealous chaplain, as a madman; compelling him to take the route toward the settlements, however; their respect for this unfortunate class of beings, rendering them averse to his rejoining their enemies.  He could, and did impart enough to Beekman to quicken his march, and to bring him and his followers up to the gate at a time when a minute might have cost the entire garrison their lives.

Anxious as he was to seek Beulah and his child, Beekman had a soldier’s duties to perform, and those he would not neglect.  The sentinels were posted, and orders issued to light lanterns, and to make a fire in the centre of the court, so that the actual condition of the field of battle might be ascertained.  A surgeon had accompanied Beekman’s party, and he was already at work, so far as the darkness would allow.  Many hands being employed, and combustibles easy to be found, ere long the desired light was gleaming on the terrible spectacle.

A dozen bodies wexre stretched in the court, of which, three or four were fated never to rise again, in life.  Of the rest, no less than four had fallen with broken heads, inflicted by O’Hearn’s shillelah.  Though these blows were not fatal, they effectually put the warriors hors de combat.  Of the garrison, not one was among the slain, in this part of the field.  On a later investigation, however, it was ascertained that the poor old Scotch mason had received a mortal hurt, through a window, and this by the very last shot that had been fired.  On turning over the dead of the assailants, too, it was discovered that Daniel the Miller was of the number.  A few of the Mohawks were seen, with glowing eyes, in corners of the court, applying their own rude dressings to their various hurts; succeeding, on the whole, in effecting the great purpose of the healing art, about as well as those who were committed to the lights of science.

Surprisingly few uninjured members of the assaulting party, however, were to be found, when the lanterns appeared.  Some had slipped through the gate before the sentinels were posted; others had found their way to the roof, and thence, by various means to the ground; while a few lay concealed in the buildings, until a favourable moment offered to escape.  Among all those who remained, not an individual was found who claimed to be in any authority.  In a word, after five minutes of examination, both Beekman and Willoughby were satisfied that there no longer existed a force to dispute with them the mastery of the Hut.

“We have delayed too long relieving the apprehensions of those who are very dear to us, Major Willoughby,” Beekman at length observed.  “If you will lead the way to the parts of the buildings where your—­my mother, and wife, are to be found, I will now follow you.”

“Hold, Beekman—­there yet remains a melancholy tale to be told—­nay, start not—­I left our Beulah, and your boy, in perfect health, less than a quarter of an hour since.  But my honoured, honourable, revered, beloved father has been killed in a most extraordinary manner, and you will find his widow and daughters weeping over his body.”