"Archie," she said, turning to her son and speaking very rapidly, "those men are here to kill your father; you must help me to prevent them from coming up to hunt him. The rest of you children stop that loud crying, which won't do any good. Kneel down and pray, pray, _pray_ to God to help your father to get away from them. Archie, throw this black cloak round you. Here are two loaded pistols. I will take one, you the other; we will station ourselves on the landing at the head of the first flight of stairs. It is darker in the house than out of doors, and they will not be able to see us, but as the door falls and they rush in we can see them in their white gowns, and against the light. Come!" They hurried to the landing. "Now we must not be in too great haste," she whispered in his ear; "keep cool, take sure aim, and fire low." The words had scarcely left her lips when the door fell with a crash, and with a yell like an Indian war whoop several disguised men rushed into the hall and hastily advanced toward the stairway; but the instant the foremost set foot upon it, two shots were fired from above, evidently not without effect; for with an oath he staggered back and fell into the arms of his comrades. He was borne away by two of them, while the others returned the fire at random, for they could not see their adversaries. The balls whistled past Mrs. Leland and her son, but they stood their ground bravely, and as two of their assailants attempted to ascend the stairs; fired again and again driving them back for a moment. At the same time sounds of conflict came from the rear of the dwelling,--an exchange of shots, whoops and yells, the hurried tramp of many feet, and the yelping, barking and howling of the dogs--and instantly the hall was cleared, every man there hastening to join in this new struggle, apparently satisfied that their intended victim was endeavoring to make his escape in that direction. Seeing this, Mrs. Leland and her son ran to a window overlooking the new scene of contest, their hearts beating between hope and fear. Mr. Leland had slipped cautiously out of the back door, and, revolver in hand, stepped into the yard, but only to find himself surrounded by his foes. They attempted to seize him, but eluding their grasp, he fired right and left, several shots in succession, the others returning his fire, and following in hot pursuit. There was no moon that night, and the darkness and a simple suit of black, were favorable to Leland, for while the long white gowns of the Ku Klux not only trammelled their movements, but rendered each an easy target for his shot, they could take but uncertain aim at him, and on gaining the woods, he was soon lost to their view in the deepened gloom of its recesses.