All seemed profoundly quiet as he moved through the sleeping house; but he had scarce reached the door of the maiden’s room before he heard the sound of a startled, muffled cry.

In a second he had burst open the door and had sprung in.  The sight which met his gaze showed how truly he had guessed.  The window was open, and upon a ladder, with his body half in the room, was a sooty-faced man, holding in his hand a flaring torch to light the movements of his companion.  This companion was already in the room; he was in the very act of lifting from the bed the form of the bride elect, who was so wrapped and smothered in the bed clothes that she was unable either to cry aloud or to resist.  Paul could not see the face of the ruffian who was thus molesting her, and knew not whether it was Simon Dowsett or another in his employ; but he was disposed to think it was the captain himself, from the stalwart proportions of his frame and the gigantic strength he plainly possessed, of which he had heard so many stories told.

This man was so engrossed in his efforts of lifting and carrying away the struggling girl that he did not know it was any voice but that of his companion which had uttered the exclamation he had heard; and Paul, seeing that his presence was undetected, rushed straight across the room toward the window, grasped the ladder in both hands, and before the astonished ruffian upon it had recovered his surprise sufficiently to grapple with him, had flung the ladder and its occupant bodily to the ground, where the man lay groaning and swearing on the frost-bound stones beneath.

The torch had fallen within the room, and Paul snatched it up and stuck it in a crevice of the boards, for he did not wish his other adversary to escape in the darkness.  The man had uttered a great oath as he became aware that his occupation had been interrupted, and dropping his burden upon the bed, he turned furiously upon his opponent, so quickly and so fiercely that Paul had barely time to draw his poniard and throw himself into an attitude of defence before the man was upon him.

“You again!” he hissed between his teeth, as his well-directed blows fell one after the other, taxing Paul’s strength and agility not a little in evading or diverting them.  “Have I not enough against you without this?  Do you know that no man thwarts Devil’s Own who lives not bitterly to rue the day?  I have your name down in a certain book of mine, young man, and some day you will learn the meaning of that word.  If I kill you not now, it is but that I may take a more terrible vengeance later.  Let me pass, I say, or I may lose patience and cleave your skull as you stand.”

But Paul had no intention of letting this dangerous foe escape him.  He stood directly before the door, and barred the robber’s way.  It might have gone ill with the lad in spite of his courage and address, for he was but a stripling and the robber a man of unwonted strength, and full of fury now at being thus balked; but the sound of hurrying feet through the house toward the scene of conflict told both the combatants that an end to the struggle was approaching.