“What is it, Miss?”

“That if we are defeated, and you are absolutely sure of my being taken, you will kill me.”

“I shall not be alive to do it, Miss.  I shall have died in your defence before it comes to that.  They must step across my body to lay a hand on you.”

“But, if you are alive, you brave soldier.”  How she looked at me!  “And if you cannot save me from the Pirates, living, you will save me, dead.  Tell me so.”

Well!  I told her I would do that at the last, if all else failed.  She took my hand—­my rough, coarse hand—­and put it to her lips.  She put it to the child’s lips, and the child kissed it.  I believe I had the strength of half a dozen men in me, from that moment, until the fight was over.

All this time, Mr. Commissioner Pordage had been wanting to make a Proclamation to the Pirates to lay down their arms and go away; and everybody had been hustling him about and tumbling over him, while he was calling for pen and ink to write it with.  Mrs. Pordage, too, had some curious ideas about the British respectability of her nightcap (which had as many frills to it, growing in layers one inside another, as if it was a white vegetable of the artichoke sort), and she wouldn’t take the nightcap off, and would be angry when it got crushed by the other ladies who were handing things about, and, in short, she gave as much trouble as her husband did.  But, as we were now forming for the defence of the place, they were both poked out of the way with no ceremony.  The children and ladies were got into the little trench which surrounded the silver-house (we were afraid of leaving them in any of the light buildings, lest they should be set on fire), and we made the best disposition we could.  There was a pretty good store, in point of amount, of tolerable swords and cutlasses.  Those were issued.  There were, also, perhaps a score or so of spare muskets.  Those were brought out.  To my astonishment, little Mrs. Fisher that I had taken for a doll and a baby, was not only very active in that service, but volunteered to load the spare arms.

“For, I understand it well,” says she, cheerfully, without a shake in her voice.

“I am a soldier’s daughter and a sailor’s sister, and I understand it too,” says Miss Maryon, just in the same way.

Steady and busy behind where I stood, those two beautiful and delicate young women fell to handling the guns, hammering the flints, looking to the locks, and quietly directing others to pass up powder and bullets from hand to hand, as unflinching as the best of tried soldiers.

Sergeant Drooce had brought in word that the pirates were very strong in numbers—­over a hundred was his estimate—­and that they were not, even then, all landed; for, he had seen them in a very good position on the further side of the Signal Hill, evidently waiting for the rest of their men to come up.  In the present pause, the first we had had since the alarm, he was telling this over again to Mr. Macey, when Mr. Macey suddenly cried our:  “The signal!  Nobody has thought of the signal!”