and Mr. Perrowne went round the back way on the same errand.  No guard was visible, and there was fire in two places, both happily outside sheds, one abutting on the garden fence, the other farther to the right.  The Squire went for water-pails, while Nash and the veteran followed the course of the incendiaries towards the bush guarded by Rufus.  But the lawyer and the parson, seizing stout poles, which were apparently Tryphena’s clothes props, knocked the blazing sheds to pieces with them, and scattered the burning boards over the ground.  Before the water came, the report of a rifle, a fowling piece, and of several pistol shots, rang through the air.  No more signs of fire were discovered, so the water was poured upon the still burning boards, and the firemen waited for the report of the pursuers.  While thus waiting, they heard a groan, and, going to the place whence it proceeded, discovered Timotheus, with a gag plaster on his mouth and an ugly wound on the back of his head, lying close to the garden fence below the fired shed.  Some water on his face revived him, and at the same time moistened the plaster, but as it would not come off, Coristine cut it open with his penknife between the lips of the sufferer.  Even then he could hardly articulate, yet managed to ask if all was safe and to thank his deliverers.  He was helped into the house, and delivered over to the awakened and dressed Tryphena and Tryphosa, the latter behaving very badly and laughing in a most unfeeling way at the comical appearance cut by her humble swain.  When Tryphena removed the plaster, and Tryphosa, returning to duty with an effort, bathed his head, the wounded sentry felt almost himself again, and guaised he must ha’ looked a purty queer pictur.  Soon after, Rufus staggered into the kitchen in a similar condition, and his affectionate sisters had to turn their attention to the Baby.  These were all the casualties on the part of the garrison, and, overpowered though the two sentries had been, their arms had not been taken by the enemy.

The Squire went forward to see after the welfare of his father-in-law, and found Mr. Terry carrying his own rifle and the gun of Sylvanus, while the said Pilgrim helped the detective to carry a groaning mass of humanity towards the kitchen hospital.

“Oi tuk my man this toime, Squire,” said Mr. Terry, gleefully; “Oi wuz marciful wid the crathur and aimed for the legs av’ im.  It’s a foine nate little howl this swate roifle has dhrilled in his shkin, an’ niver a bone shplit nor a big blood vissel tapped, glory be, say Oi!”

It appeared, on examination of the parties, that Ben Toner and Sylvanus had indulged in a prolonged talk at the point where their beats met, during which a party of six, including the two prisoners, creeping up silently through the bush, prostrated Rufus with the blow of a bludgeon on the back of the head.  Then, they advanced and repeated the operation on Timotheus, after which three of them, with cotton cloths