"Out wi' the lights, an' be still," said D'ri, quickly, and the lights were out as soon as the words. "Jones, you tie up a front leg o' one o' them hosses. Git back in the brush, ladies. Five on 'em, boys. Now up with the pike wall!" From far back in the road had come again the clang of the cow-bell. I remember hearing five strokes and then a loud rattle. In a twinkling I was off the seat and beside the ladies. "Take hold of my dress," I whispered quickly, "and follow me." I led them off in the brush, and stopped. We could hear the move and rattle of cavalry in the near road. Then presently the swish of steel, the leap and tumble of horses, the shouting of men. My companions were of the right stuff; they stood shivering, but held their peace. Out by the road lights were flashing, and now we heard pistols and the sound of a mighty scuffle. I could stay there in the dark no longer. "Wait here, and be silent," I said, and ran "like a madwoman," as they told me long after, for the flickering lights. There a squad of cavalry was shut in by the pikes. Two troopers had broken through the near line. One had fallen, badly hurt; the other was sabre to sabre with the man D'ri. They were close up and striving fiercely, as if with broadswords. I caught up the weapon of the injured man, for I saw the Yankee would get the worst of it. The Britisher had great power and a sabre quick as a cat's paw. I could see the corporal was stronger, but not so quick and skilful. As I stood by, quivering with excitement, I saw him get a slash in the shoulder. He stumbled, falling heavily. Then quickly, forgetting my sex, but not wholly, I hope, the conduct that becomes a woman, I caught the point of the sabre, now poised to run him through, with the one I carried. He backed away, hesitating, for he had seen my hat and gown. But I made after him with all the fury I felt, and soon had him in action. He was tired, I have no doubt; anyway, I whirled his sabre and broke his hold, whipping it to the ground. That was the last we saw of him, for he made off in the dark faster than I could follow. The trouble was all over, save the wound of the corporal, which was not as bad as I thought. He was up, and one of them, a surgeon, was putting stitches in his upper arm. Others were tying four men together with rope. Their weapons were lying in a little heap near by. One of the British was saying that Sir Charles Gravleigh had sent for them to ride after the coach. "Jerushy Jane Pepper!" said the man D'ri. "Never see no sech wil'cat uv a woman es thet air." I looked down at my gown; I felt of my hat, now hanging over one ear. Sure enough, I was a woman. "Who be ye, I 'd like t' know?" said the man D'ri. "Ramon Bell--a Yankee soldier of the rank of captain," I said, stripping off my gown. "But, I beg of you, don't tell the ladies I was ever a woman." "Judas Priest!" said D'ri, as he flung his well arm around me. XXIII