None but such a frame and such a spirit could have stood against that pistol-shot. It made him stagger for the moment; but he had presence of mind to ward off the next blow of a cutlass with his good oaken staff. And now might be seen the most desperate conflict for life or death between the rivals. Barry and Laud closed and parted, and struggled fiercely with each other, though the former had but one arm to act upon the defensive with. His right hand, however, was powerful enough to dash the sword of Laud at least ten yards into the wave; and with such dexterity did he handle his weapon, that had not Luff come again unexpectedly to the encounter, the contest must have been speedily terminated in favour of Barry: Luff recovered his feet again, and rushed at Barry with such rage, that again his other pistol missed its aim. Barry had now to act entirely upon his own defence, with only one arm against four. He had this advantage, however, that they had no time to load their pistols, and had only their short butt-ends to fight with, whilst he had a good long arm. But assistance--unexpected assistance--was at hand. A tall, gaunt figure strode along the strand, armed with a long fisherman's pike, or hook, a weapon commonly used to take codfish off the fishing-lines. His was a sinewy arm, which few could resist or disable. When such a man was aroused, harmless and peaceable as was his general character, his appearance became truly terrific; and his firm and steady step, and determined resolution, told that he was a soldier of cool courage, not easily to be beaten. It was old Colson, or poor Robinson Crusoe, who, as it has been stated, was making his way with fish up the Orwell. He and young Barry, now side by side, beat back the smugglers to their boat. Desperate was the contest; but there was no opposing the unearthly-looking being, with his bones, perforated plates, and charms dangling about his person. Well was it that he came so opportunely, for without his help the fate of young Barry had been sealed for ever. It was bad enough as it was. The smugglers retreated, and jumped into their boat. Laud, seizing a carabine, levelled it at Barry, whilst Luff pushed off the boat from the shore. "Let fly at him, Will! let fly at him! Revenge yourself and my fall!" A flash and loud explosion followed this advice. The smoke cleared off in a second, and the pirates saw but the stately form of Robin standing upon the shore. Young Barry--the generous, brave, and faithful Barry--lay stretched upon the sand. Meantime Margaret had escaped. She had reached the Priory Farm; and rushing into the room where the harvest-men were assembled, fell down exhausted, with just strength of voice to say, "Fly--fly--fly to the shore! Barry will be murdered!"