“Some one had dragged this young woman screaming and wailing into the tower below. She soon fainted. I heard the followers tell the leader of the gang that the coachman had just cut the traces and decamped with the horses. He then bade them gather all the gang waiting in hiding so as to carry her down to some boat below, and then closing the door, he stood on guard outside. They were, however, baffled. Some of the scoundrels had taken the alarm and fled, seeing the lights of the other party moving up from the pier. Then the desperate leader tried to lead a party to steal a horse from the nearest farmhouse. They were busied in their quarreling. I dropped my ladder down, and while they wrangled, cried softly to the imprisoned woman to mount the ladder. She knew my voice at once, as I had been a visitor at her uncle’s house. With my help, she got up into the barrack room, and, you bet, I quickly pulled up my rope ladder. In ten minutes more, the door was opened. The trick was discovered. They tried a pyramid of men to reach the nine feet. But I waited till they were all good and blown with their exertions and then, shot a couple of them! You’ll find those fellows lingering somewhere in the bushes. I had stowed the girl safely away in the middle of the pier, over the doorway, between two pillars. She was game enough. I let them just shoot away a bit. I kept my powder and lead to kill. I’ve even now four cartridges left. “But when you came on the ground, the whole coward gang skedaddled at once, and the brave chap you killed got his dose for good, for he stood his ground like a man! The girl didn’t bother me. She fainted in good shape when the close fighting began. I was a dead winner from position. I could have stood them off for hours!” “You are a hero!” warmly cried Harry Hardwicke. “Let’s all get out of this!” replied Alaric, modestly. The American offered Hardwicke his cocktail bottle. “Let’s get her down. I hear carriage wheels now. Would you just tell me your real name, now, the name you use when you are not doing your ‘character’ song and dance.” The young officer smiled at the American’s rough address. “Major Harry Hardwicke, Royal Engineers, and, this lady’s future husband,” confidently remarked Prince Djiddin. “Oh, yes,” grinned Alaric Hobbs, “the last part I’ll take for gospel truth. Well, Major, I’m glad to know you.” And he then, very practically, aided the descent of Miss Nadine Johnstone, for a dozen stout arms now held up the ponderous old ladder which had been purposely dislodged by the Coast Guardsmen. Alaric Hobbs surveyed his battle ground.