It was a street fight between the redcoats and the townspeople; and although no powder was being used, strong arms and hard fists were doing almost as painful work. The British frigate "Lively" had dropped anchor in the harbor at sunset, and as soon as darkness came, a press-gang had been sent on shore to capture such sturdy fishermen as might be abroad, and impress them into the service of His Majesty's navy. Several men had already been taken, and they were resisting most lustily, while such of their friends as chanced to be in the streets were coming to their rescue. But these were few in number, as most of the citizens who were not at their homes were now gathered in the town hall, awaiting the opening of the meeting, which was to be of more than usual importance, as measures were to be taken with respect to the new tyranny indicated by the presence of soldiers quartered upon the Neck. While the two young men paused on a street corner overlooking the combatants, hesitating as to what might be the best thing for them to do, the light from a house over the way shone down upon one figure, as though singling it out from the others. It was that of a swarthy, strongly built young fellow, taller than most of those about him, and with a bright, resolute face. Hatless, and in his shirt-sleeves, he was raining heavy blows upon such of the enemy as sought to lay hands on him. "'T is Jem Mugford!" exclaimed Hugh. "See, Jack, what a gallant fight he is making for himself!" Mugford was well known in the town, and was already, despite his youth, the captain of a merchant vessel. He had been but recently married; and Jack and Hugh recalled the sunny morning when they saw him, looking so handsome and happy, alongside the pretty girl he had just taken for his wife. They both, moved by the same impulse, now made a dash toward him; but the surging crowd--of friends and foes alike--came between in a way to frustrate their intention. Then, while they were still struggling to reach him, there went up a loud, angry shout bristling with vigorous oaths: "They've got Jem! They've got him an' carried him off! Squael 'em, squael 'em!"[1] [1] "Rock them!" i.e. "Throw rocks at them!" The cries and tumult were deafening; and the dark mass rolled slowly down the street, leaving the young men almost alone. "'T is an outrage!" exclaimed Hugh Knollys, panting from his unavailing exertions. "We need all of us to carry guns to guard against such dastardly work. What will his poor wife do, and her father, now that they'll not have Jem to look to for support and defence?" "I take it she will not lack for good defenders," answered Jack, his voice trembling with anger, "not so long as you and I live in the town, to say naught of his other friends. With the enemy in our harbor, and amongst us in the very town, the quicker we arm the better, say I. Let us go first to see Mistress Mugford, and then we'll go to the hall."