The Captain hesitated for a second. The warriors prodded him again, and before they could raise their arms he had jerked loose, snatched a musket from one, and swinging it around his head, sent the two to the ground, one with a cracked skull. Before those in the lines could fairly see what had happened, he was running toward the hut with two captured muskets and a knife. In front of the hut the three other Indians were struggling with Father Claude, who was fighting in a frenzy, and the maid. She was hanging back, and one redskin had crushed her two wrists together in his hand and was dragging her. Menard was on them with a leap. They did not see him until a musket whirled about their ears, and one man fell, rolling, at the maid's feet. "Back into the hut!" he said roughly, and she obeyed. As he turned to aid the priest he called after her, "Pile up the logs, quick!" She understood, and with the strength that came with the moment, she dragged the logs to the door. Menard crushed down the two remaining Indians as he would have crushed wild beasts, without a glance toward the mob that was running at him, without a thought for the gash in his arm, made first by an arrow at La Gallette and now reopened by a knife thrust. The Father, too, was wounded, but still he could fight. There was but a second more. The Captain threw the four muskets into the hut, and after them the powder-horns and bullet-pouches which he had barely time to strip from the dead men. Then he crowded the priest through the opening above the logs, and came tumbling after. Another second saw the logs piled close against the door, while a shower of bullets and arrows rattled against them. "Take a musket, Father. Now, fire together! Quick, the others! Can you load these, Mademoiselle?" "Yes." She reached for them, and poured the powder down the barrels. "Not too much, Mademoiselle. We may run short." "Yes, M'sieu." To miss a mark in that solid mob would have been difficult. The first four shots brought down three men, and sent another limping away with a bleeding foot. "Keep it up, Father! Don't wait an instant. Fast, Mademoiselle, fast! Ah, there's one more. See, they are falling back. Take the other wall, Father. See that they do not come from the rear." The priest ran about the hut, peering through the chinks. "I see nothing," he called. "You had better stay there, then. Keep a close watch." The maid laid two loaded muskets at the Captain's side. "Can we hold them off, M'sieu?" His eye was pressed to an opening, and he did not turn. "I fear not, Mademoiselle. A few minutes more may settle it. But we can give them a fight." "If they come again, will you let me shoot, M'sieu?" He turned in surprise, and looked at her slight figure. "You, Mademoiselle?" "Yes; I can help. I have shot before."