430 THE SMUGGLER. 



amongst them the figures of young R ad ford and the two Ram- 

 leys, father and son, were conspicuous from the vehement 

 gestures that they made, now pointing to the top of the tower, 

 now to the wall of the churchyard. 



" I think we could bring a good many down as they stand 

 now," said young William Harris, moving his gun towards his 

 shoulder, as if the inclination to fire were almost irresistible. 



" Stay, stay! not yet," replied Sir Edward Digby; "let it 

 bo clearly in our own defence. Besides, you must remember 

 these are but fowling-pieces. At that distance, few shots 

 would tell." 



" One shall tell at least, before this day is over," said 

 Harding, who had remained seated, hardly looking at the 

 party without. " Something tells me I shall have vengeance 

 this day." 



"Hallo! they are going to begin!" cried another man; and 

 the same moment the gang of miscreants spread out, and while 

 some advanced on horseback towards the wall, at least fifty, 

 who were armed with guns, dismounted and aimed deliberately 

 at the tower and windows. 



"Down with your heads behind the parapet!" cried Digby, 

 though he did not follow the caution himself; "no use of ex- 

 posing your lives needlessly. Down, down, Harding!" 



But Harding sat where he was, saying, bitterly, "They'll 

 not hit me; I know it; they've done worse already." As he 

 spoke, a single gun was fired, and then a volley from the two 

 sides of the churchyard wall. One of the balls whizzed close 

 by Sir Edward Digby's head, and another struck the parapet 

 near Harding; but neither were touched, and the stout seaman 

 did not move a muscle. 



"Now up, and give it them back!" exclaimed Digby; and, 

 speaking clown the trap that led to the stairs, he called to 

 those below, "Fire now, and pick them off! Steadily, 

 steadily!" he continued, addressing his companions on the 

 roof, who were becoming somewhat too much excited. ''Make 

 every shot tell, if you can; a good aim; a good aim!" 



"Here goes for one!" cried William Harris, aiming at Jim 

 Ramley, and hitting him. in the thigh; and instantly, from the 

 roof and the windows of the church, blazed forth a sharp lire 

 of musketry, which apparently was not without severe cifect ; 

 for the men who had dismounted were thrown into great con- 



