As Paul spoke he caught sight of three men crouching down under some bushes a short distance ahead. Had he been alone, he would have dashed forward and easily have eluded them, should they prove to be footpads, as he thought likely. He was afraid, however, should Mabel make the attempt, that they might succeed in stopping her horse, and then, if going at full speed, he would be less able to take steady aim, or to defend her. At the same time, he did not wish to alarm her before it was necessary. She, however, directly afterwards caught sight of the same objects. They were not left long in doubt as to the intention of those they saw, for as they approached, live men sprang up, and rushing forward seized Mabel's rein. Paul, drawing a pistol, fired. One of his assailants fell, but this did not deter the others from their purpose. While one of the ruffians held Mabel's horse, the other three attacked him, endeavouring to pull him from his saddle. Before they had time to seize his arm, he drew another pistol. He fired, but it flashed in the pan. He endeavoured to reprime it, but having no time to do so, he seized it by the muzzle, and began to lay about him with right good will, striking one fellow on the head and another on the shoulder, and compelling them to let go their hold, at the same time shouting at the top of his voice, "To the rescue! to the rescue! Off with you, villains!" and similar cries, which were not without the effect of distracting the attention of his assailants. Still, as they were three to one, and had also firearms, though they had not hitherto used them, it was too evident that they must ultimately succeed in their purpose. Still undaunted, however, the old soldier fought on, continuing to strike with a rapidity which astonished his assailants. One, however, more savage than the others, springing back, drew a pistol from his belt, and was levelling it at Paul, when his eye caught sight of two men, who, at that instant had jumped out of a gravel-pit a little way ahead, and were rushing towards them, flourishing thick sticks which they held in their hands. "Don't let the fellows sheer off, Paul, and we will make prizes of the whole," shouted one of the new comers, springing forward and bringing his thick stick down on the head of one of Paul's assailants. The fellow dropped as if shot, when the other three men, seeing that their opponents were even in number, let go the horses' reins and took to flight. The men who had so opportunely arrived were dressed as sailors. In the most active of them Paul recognised his old acquaintance, Jacob Tuttle. The other was a stranger.