"This is not Southsea Castle," I replied sneeringly. "We do not give up without sufficient cause." "Then take the consequences," replied the renegade. "For a barrel of powder is even now placed underneath the tower, and in five minutes you will be blown skywards. Fare ye well, and a pleasant journey!" And, with a mocking laugh, he disappeared. The horror of the situation held us spell-bound. Here we were eighty feet above the ground, with a barrel of powder ready to burst asunder the very foundations of the tower, while above us was a mass of stone another seventy feet in height, or thereabouts, which, at the moment of the explosion, would crumble, collapse, and bury us beneath its stupendous weight. Nor was escape possible, for the churchyard was filled with rebels, and we knew full well that to accept Chaloner's offer of surrender was to deliberately throw away our lives, seeing that the man would have had us shot in cold blood under the plea of armed resistance. Colonel Firestone was the first to recover his composure. "Perchance, 'tis but an idle threat," he exclaimed. "Yet, even if they fire the powder, its effects may not be so disastrous as they think. I call to mind the springing of a mine at the causeway of Rhé, when those nearest escaped nearly scot-free, and the greatest damage was done by the falling stones on the Frenchmen, who caused the explosion. Nevertheless, if we are to die, let's get to the open air once more." Taking the ropes with us, we made our way out on to the parapet. It was now dark. But few lights twinkled in the houses of the town, though the watch-fires of the troops surrounded Lostwithiel like a circle of glimmering points of light. Looking straight down, we could distinguish the heads and shoulders of the troops in and around the churchyard. "Why not lower ourselves on to the roof of the nave?" I exclaimed. "The idea seems good," replied Firestone, and we immediately ran round the leads to the opposite side of the tower. Twenty feet below was the ridge of the tiled roof that sloped down on either side to a parapeted gutterway. "Fools we were not to have thought of this before," exclaimed the colonel. "Quick! Make fast the rope round this piece of stonework. Once we gain the roof, we are safe." The rope was secured but, just as I was about to clamber over the edge, there was a glimmer of a match on the farthest end of the roof, then a flash, and a loud report, and a bullet whizzed past our heads. "The rogues have done us!" muttered the colonel. "They have placed musketeers on the roof to shoot us down." Hastily crouching behind the sheltering stonework, we drew up the rope and waited, in dead silence, for the threatened catastrophe. In obedience to an order, there was a hasty stampede on the part of the rebels from the church, and, in our anxiety, we imagined we could hear the spluttering of the slow-match.