He soon recovered, for the next moment a servant came rushing into
the room with the information that a number of the ingenuous
peasantry of the neighborhood were about to indulge that evening in
the national pastime of burning a farm-house and shooting a
landlord. Guy smiled a fearful smile, without, however, altering
his stern and pitiless expression.
"Let them come," he said calmly; "I feel like entertaining
company."
We barricaded the doors and windows, and then chose our arms from
the armory. Guy's choice was a singular one: it was a landing net
with a long handle, and a sharp cavalry sabre.
We were not destined to remain long in ignorance of its use. A
howl was heard from without, and a party of fifty or sixty armed
men precipitated themselves against the door.
Suddenly the window opened. With the rapidity of lightning, Guy
Heavystone cast the net over the head of the ringleader, ejaculated
"Habet!" and with a back stroke of his cavalry sabre severed the
member from its trunk, and, drawing the net back again, cast the
gory head upon the floor, saying quietly:--
"One."
Again the net was cast, the steel flashed, the net was withdrawn,
and an ominous "Two!" accompanied the head as it rolled on the
floor.
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