Had a legion from the puissant army of Beelzebub been approaching, their terror could not have been greater.  Yet fear kept many from escaping, while they knew not which way to run for safety.  Rigby in the nick of time galloped up to this awful and hostile appearance, crying out to his troops that he would soon demolish the bugbear.  This saying encouraged some of the runaways, who followed him to the combat.  Approaching within a sword’s length, for he was not deficient either in hardihood or valour, he made a furious stroke right in the face of this flaming apparition, when down it fell, revealing its own harmlessness and their cowardice.

Taking advantage of the panic which followed the lighted horse, a few of the garrison had thrown a cord covered with matches and other combustibles round a tree, close to the enemy’s camp; one end was fastened near the walls, and the other was quickly carried back after being passed round the tree.  The whole on being lighted was swung to and fro, producing the terrific appearance we have described.

Rigby was greatly mortified at this exploit; it seemed as though they were become the jest and laughing-stock of the garrison.

Morgan at this moment galloped up in great dudgeon.  The enemy had found him a similar employment, he having twice bravely discharged his cannon, loaded with cartridge and chain-shot, against two lighted matches thrust into balls of clay that were thrown at him from the walls.

The leaders, provoked beyond measure, speedily assembled in council.  Egerton, who had the most influence, from the beginning had urged milder measures, thinking to starve the enemy into submission; but Morgan, Rigby, and some others were now red-hot for mischief, smarting from their late ridiculous disaster.

“And what have we gotten by delay?” said Rigby; “we have wearied our soldiers, wasted our powder, and emptied our purses; and this proud dame still beats and baffles us, casting her gibes in our very teeth which we deserve to lose for our pains.”

“Take thine own course, then,” said Egerton, mildly.  “We are brethren, serving one cause only; the which, being best served, is best won.”

“Then be to-morrow ours,” said Morgan, with his usual heat and impatience.  “We will burn them up like a heap of dry faggots.  The house, though well fenced against our shot, hath yet much inward building of wood, and you shall see a pretty bonfire kindled by my bomb-shells—­a roaring blaze that shall ride on the welkin between here and Beeston Castle!”

“Whilst thou art plying thy vocation we will scale the walls, and the sword shall slay what the fire hath failed to devour,” said Rigby.

“Fire and sword!” cried Egerton.  “Ye are apt at a simile; but, methinks, these be your own similitudes.”

“They give their prisoners no quarter,” said Morgan; “and why should we sheath the sword when a weapon is at our own throat?”