Mr. Garie aroused the sleeping children, and threw some clothes upon them, over which he wrapped shawls or blankets, or whatever came to hand.  Rushing into the next room, he snatched a pair of loaded pistols from the drawer of his dressing-stand, and then hurried his terrified wife and children down the stairs.

“This way, dear—­this way!” he cried, leading on toward the back door; “out that way through the gate with the children, and into some of the neighbour’s houses.  I’ll stand here to keep the way.”

“No, no, Garie,” she replied, frantically; “I won’t go without you.”

“You must!” he cried, stamping his foot impatiently; “this is no time to parley—­go, or we shall all be murdered.  Listen, they’ve broken in the door.  Quick—­quick! go on;” and as he spoke, he pressed her and the children out of the door, and closed it behind them.

Mrs. Garie ran down the garden, followed by the children; to her horror, she found the gate locked, and the key nowhere to be found.

“What shall we do?” she cried.  “Oh, we shall all be killed!” and her limbs trembled beneath her with cold and terror.  “Let us hide in here, mother,” suggested Clarence, running toward the wood-house; “we’ll be safe in there.”  Seeing that nothing better could be done, Mrs. Garie availed herself of the suggestion; and when she was fairly inside the place, fell fainting upon the ground.

As she escaped through the back door, the mob broke in at the front, and were confronting Mr. Garie, as he stood with his pistol pointed at them, prepared to fire.

“Come another step forward and I fire!” exclaimed he, resolutely; but those in the rear urged the advance of those in front, who approached cautiously nearer and nearer their victim.  Fearful of opening the door behind him, lest he should show the way taken by his retreating wife, he stood uncertain how to act; a severe blow from a stone, however, made him lose all reflection, and he immediately fired.  A loud shriek followed the report of his pistol, and a shower of stones was immediately hurled upon him.

He quickly fired again, and was endeavouring to open the door to effect his escape, when a pistol was discharged close to his head and he fell forward on the entry floor lifeless.

All this transpired in a few moments, and in the semi-darkness of the entry.  Rushing forward over his lifeless form, the villains hastened upstairs in search of Mrs. Garie.  They ran shouting through the house, stealing everything valuable that they could lay their hands upon, and wantonly destroying the furniture; they would have fired the house, but were prevented by McCloskey, who acted as leader of the gang.

For two long hours they ransacked the house, breaking all they could not carry off, drinking the wine in Mr. Garie’s cellar, and shouting and screaming like so many fiends.

Mrs. Garie and the children lay crouching with terror in the wood-house, listening to the ruffians as they went through the yard cursing her and her husband and uttering the direst threats of what they would do should she fall into their hands.  Once she almost fainted on hearing one of them propose opening the wood-house, to see if there was anything of value in it—­but breathed again when they abandoned it as not worth their attention.