At this point, and before the chief could reply to the lady’s demand, one of those behind--a dark-visaged, low-browed, villainous-looking man--came to his side and whispered something in his ear. His words Cordelia could not distinguish, but she had no difficulty in distinguishing the response. “Aye, Gurt, you’re right,” the tawny chief said. “The sooner we haul our wind out o’ this the better it may be for us. Bryan! Jack! This way, and lend a hand. Mind now, no roughness! Handle them as lightly as you can.” And the three men, thus commanded, moved forward. ------- CHAPTER XVI. A TERRIBLE MOMENT. As our heroine heard the address of the chief to his comrades, and then saw the latter move toward her, she looked to see a possible way of escape, but there was none. There was but one hope, and that was in help. She whispered to Mary, who was clinging closely to her side: “Scream!” And a scream--two of them--that seemed to split the welkin, broke upon the startled air. With a fierce oath the chief himself sprang upon Cordelia, throwing his left arm around her shoulders, at the same time pressing his right hand over her mouth. The maid was likewise secured and her mouth stopped. Cordelia was both brave and strong. With all her might she struggled, and quickly succeeded in freeing her right hand, which she instantly raised and clasped upon the wrist of the hand over her mouth, wrenching it away and at the same time sending forth another scream for help. But her cry was not more startling nor more frantic than was the howl of pain and agony that burst from Ralph Tryon’s lips--for we know him by this time--when the grasp of the girl was laid upon his wrist, and the furious wrench given it. “Gurt! Gurt!--she’s broken my arm again! Seize her and stop her noise!” By this time the maid had been so far secured that one man could care for her, which left two of the ruffians to care for the mistress, the chief having moved aside to nurse his aching limb. Cordelia’s hands were quickly bound behind her, and a thick large bandanna was bound over her mouth for a gag, effectually preventing any more calling for help. After this the chief, whom the lady now knew was none other than Ralph Tryon, started on ahead, directing his men to follow as rapidly as possible. He took his course down the river’s bank, keeping close to the water, and at the distance of a hundred yards and a little more they came to a small cove wherein lay a boat. The two captives had been led at a pace that forced them more than once to break from a walk into a run, but they had not been used roughly. Into the boat they were lifted without ceremony, and carried aft to the stern-sheets, where they were caused to sit on one of the sides; and presently the chief came aft and sat down directly opposite.