Tim, the groom, like a lively monkey, managed to climb up the rafters unseen, and hid himself behind a great beam. But the sudden inroad of Wildfire Ned so exasperated the Skeleton Crew, that they gave no heed to the domestics, but turned all their attention to Lieut. Garnet and his sailors. In the meantime the unfortunate servants stopped the deadly duels among themselves, and crawled out of the way of further harm. Tim, however, directly Wildfire Ned appeared upon the scene, gave a wild shout, which almost cost him his life. One of the Skeleton Crew perceived that he had got out of the way among the beams and rafters of the ceiling, and fired at him. The bullet just grazed his cheek. An inch more and he would have tumbled down dead. As it was he merely screened himself safely again. When he saw a good chance he whipped out his knife, and cut several of the ropes with which some of the servants had been hung. They fell to the ground heavily. But the shock seemed to revive the almost extinct life of several. Tim then slipped down from his lofty perch, picked up a sword, and rushed to the side of Wildfire Ned, and capered about, and was such a thin, wiry young rascal, that the Skeletons always missed their aim. Tim seemed to them to be made of india-rubber. They couldn’t touch him, do what they might, for, although his clothes were tattered, he escaped with a whole skin, much to his delight. * * * * * Several days after the stirring events we have just narrated, the wounded men were all provided for, and the dead buried. This strange visit of the Skeleton Crew to Darlington, and the frightful scenes in the old immense servants’ hall was the talk of the country far and wide. It filled every one with amazement, and people began to think that, perhaps, after all, the mysterious murder of Farmer Bertram might be traced to the same source, particularly since poor Bob, the farmer’s son, protested his innocence so loudly and boldly. But appearances were strongly against the farmer’s son. His own thick walking-stick was found beside the murdered man. The old farmer’s purse, one he had but a week before bought in the village, was found in the pocket of his accused son. These evidences of guilt were too strong to allow of any doubt but that the unhappy son had, in a moment of anger and revenge, murdered his own father. There was one, however, who _did_ believe in poor Bob’s innocence. That was Wildfire Ned. He visited Bob in prison, and spent several hours with him. When he came away he told old Sir Richard that the prisoner was an innocent man, and was sure he had been duped by some cunning villain. “Bob must not suffer,” said Ned; “he _shall_ not suffer, while I’ve got a hand to help him.” “_Shall_ not!” said Sir Richard, in amazement; “Who’s to prevent it, if he’s found guilty?” “Who? why, _I_ will,” said Wildfire Ned, colouring to the temples. “You?”