“Yes, my brave lad; and I am willing to meet the scoundrels again, whether on land or sea. Lead on, Ned; lead on.” With a loud shout Wildfire Ned and his followers rushed towards the scene of tumult. The citizens made way for them, as, led on by Ned Warbeck, Garnet and Bob Bertram, the gallant band of young citizens and London Apprentices, ran towards the Block-House. It was at this moment, and just as Ned Warbeck arrived on the scene of action, that the gate of the Block-House was hastily opened and closed again. A man rushed forth, all bleeding, and with a sword in hand. “She is mine! she is mine!” said he. It was Phillip Redgill bearing away the unconscious form of Ellen Harmer from the Block-House! “She is mine! she is mine!” he said, with savage oaths. “Make way there on your lives!” The good, simple citizens, supposing that Phillip Redgill was a well-disposed and gallant person, who, at the risk of his own life among the terrible crew, had rescued an innocent girl, made way for him to the right and left, and even cheered him. “Hold, villain, hold!” said Ned Warbeck, dashing towards Phillip Redgill. Redgill stood stock still as if he had suddenly beheld a spectre. “Ned Warbeck,” he gasped, “again across my path! Make way, fool, or die!” “Stir but another inch with your precious burden,” said Ned Warbeck, with a determined oath. “Stir but an inch farther this way, and my sword to the hilt shall be buried in your craven carcase!” With wild-looking eyes and dishevelled hair, almost on end with unnatural fright and alarm, Phillip Redgill was about to drop the insensible girl from his arms, when, with a sudden spring, and a gleaming sword, Ned Warbeck plucked her from his grasp. A terrible hand to hand conflict now took place between these two hereditary enemies. It seemed as if all the hatred of their forefathers had gathered in the hearts of these two fierce opponents. Garnet and Bob Bertram would have rushed to Ned’s assistance; but said Ned Warbeck, in tones of confidence— “Away, friends, away! leave the affair to me! Do you and your followers storm the Block-House, and let not one of the villains escape. Away, I say! let no one interfere! Make a ring, good citizens, and see fair play; I ask nothing more!” “Give the poor girl to me, my brave lad,” chorused a score of voices; “you cannot fight with her burden in your arms.” “Never fear, good people,” said Ned, “whether I live or die, this poor girl shall never leave my embrace while I have power to protect her.” With the ferocity of two tigers Redgill and young Warbeck commenced the duel, surrounded as they were by a numerous company of breathless spectators. Again and again they cut and thrust at each other with ferocious violence. Redgill had the advantage of weight, height, and reach, independent of not holding any burden. But Ned Warbeck was confident and bold. Again they approached to dangerous nearness, and each moment seemed as if it would decide the combat.