Settle’s nose hung over the steaming compound. With a swift pass of the hand, the old gentleman caught up the lamp and had shaken a drop of burning oil into the bowl. A great blaze leap’d to the ceiling. There was a howl—a scream of pain; and as I push’d Mistress Delia through the doorway and out to the head of the stairs, I caught a backward glimpse of Sir Deakin rushing after us, with one of the stoutest among the robbers at his heels. “Downstairs, for your life!” I whisper’d to the girl, and turning, as her father tumbled past me, let his pursuer run on my sword, as on a spit. At the same instant, another blade pass’d through the fellow transversely, and Jacques stood beside me, with his back to the lintel. As we pull’d our swords out and the man dropp’d, I had a brief view into the room, where now the blazing liquid ran off the table in a stream. Settle, stamping with agony, had his palms press’d against his scorch’d eyelids. The fat landlord, in trying to beat out the flames, had increased them by upsetting two bottles of aqua vitae, and was dancing about with three fingers in his mouth. The rest stood for the most part dumbfounder’d: but Black Dick had his pistol lifted. Jacques and I sprang out for the landing and round the doorway. Between the flash and the report I felt a sudden scrape, as of a red-hot wire, across my left thigh and just above the knee. “Tenez, camarade,” said Jacques’ voice in my ear; “a moi la porte—a vous le maitre, la-bas:” and he pointed down the staircase, where, by the glare of the conflagration that beat past us, I saw the figures of Sir Deakin and his daughter standing. “But how can you keep the door against a dozen?” The Frenchman shrugg’d his shoulders with a smile— “Mais-comme ca!” For at this moment came a rush of footsteps within the room. I saw a fat paunch thrusting past us, a quiet pass of steel, and the landlord was wallowing on his face across the threshold. Jacques’ teeth snapp’d together as he stood ready for another victim: and as the fellows within the room tumbled back, he motion’d me to leave him. I sprang from his side, and catching the rail of the staircase, reach’d the foot in a couple of bounds. “Hurry!” I cried, and caught the old baronet by the hand. His daughter took the other, and between us we hurried him across the passage for the kitchen door. Within, the chambermaid was on her knees by the settle, her face and apron of the same hue. I saw she was incapable of helping, and hasten’d across the stone floor, and out toward the back entrance. A stream of icy wind blew in our faces as we stepp’d over the threshold. The girl and I bent our heads to it, and stumbling, tripping, and panting, pull’d Sir Deakin with us out into the cold air.