“I haven’t got the lancet,” cried Fred, with a sudden shake, as though to prevent me from searching his pockets.  “You know that I gave it to Smith.”

“I’m sure that you didn’t,” Smith said, surprised at Fred’s assertion.  Before he could utter further remonstrance I had severed his bonds and repeated my words of caution.

“Are you ready?” I heard a voice whisper close behind me.

I glanced to the spot where the rifles were lying, and then surveyed the bushrangers, as they lay stretched out before the fire, perfectly unconscious that we were plotting their destruction.

“All ready,” I responded, making a signal to Fred to be on the alert.

“Stoop down a little,” was the whispered injunction.  I obeyed the order, and no sooner did I bow my head than the bushes appeared to be illuminated with a sheet of flame.  A roar of musketry that seemed to shake the forest followed the flash, and over my head I could hear the bullets whiz as they sped on their errand of death.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

Opportune arrival of lieutenant Murden and his force, Rout of the bushrangers.

I heard a wild yell, such as men utter when taken by surprise—­I heard groans and curses, and then, loud above all, arose a cheer which could only have proceeded from men who had some great matter at stake, and were determined to fight to the last for victory.

Through the smoke, which slowly drifted over the clearing, I saw half a dozen robbers spring to their feet and fall headlong, like logs, to the ground, and by the light of the still blazing fire I observed the astonishment depicted upon the faces of the bushrangers as they looked in the direction from whence the discharge proceeded, and stumbled over each other on their way towards the spot where their arms were stacked.

All this I observed in a few seconds’ time, but before I could start to my feet, wondering who were the attacking party, I heard the voice of the old convict, shrill and wild, shout out a quotation from the Bible, and conclude with one of his semi-religious, fanatical expressions.

“May the God of my fathers,” he exclaimed, “forgive me for killing the devils, but I couldn’t help it.”

“Charge, men!” cried a manly voice that I thought I knew.

A wild cheer arose that shook the very forest, and through the bushes came the regular tramp of disciplined men.  I caught sight of the old familiar blue uniform, and one glance at the leader of the force was sufficient.  I saw my old friend, Lieutenant Murden, and a strong squad of Melbourne police at his back.

I sprang to my feet and cheered lustily, and then grasped the first weapon that I could find, and joined their ranks.  I saw that Fred and Smith were with me, and like eagles we swept down upon our prey.