"That Irishman who was in with us--O'Hara." "Can any one shoot and bring him down? Give me a musket." He snatched the piece offered to him, took careful aim by resting the musket on the edge of the scarped bank, and fired. There was the sharp report, the puff of white smoke, [This page missing.] VOLUME FOUR, CHAPTER NINE. LIEUTENANT EATON IS IN THE WAY. [This page missing.] Panting, and with his throat dry with excitement as much as with exertion, he toiled on, feeling as if every few paces had brought him nearly to a haven of refuge, but only on raising his eyes to see the house apparently as far off as ever, and to hear the voices of the convicts close at hand, the gully acting as a kind of tube to convey the sound. He paused for a moment to get a better hold of his burden, and Eaton uttered a low groan, but he managed to get him in an easier position, and started off once more, toiling on till the gully opened on his left, and he saw O'Hara rise from behind some bushes, where he had been creeping, and begin to run. Then his blood seemed to turn cold, his heart to stop beating, for quicker than it can be told, there was a shout, a dead silence, and then the sharp report of a musket, as O'Hara went down, and rolled out of his sight as well. Bayle ground his teeth, and a chill of despair came over him as he realised that the Irishman had been making for the town to give the alarm and bring help, while now the news might not reach Sydney till the hour when the draft and their guard should return. "Those poor fellows!" moaned Eaton, piteously, as Bayle toiled on with him, seeing now that Hallam and Crellock were outside the verandah, looking curiously towards him, but not taking a step to his aid. "I can't ask their help if they do not offer it," muttered Bayle, as he staggered on, growing weaker with his exertion, and finally stopping for a moment or two so as to get his breath. Then came the confused murmur of voices, when, looking back, he saw that he was pursued; and as he pressed forward again the horrible thought flashed through his brain that he was leading the savage band of utterly reckless men right to the house where two tender women might even then be trembling witnesses of what was going on. The agony he suffered at this thought was so great that he stopped short, his brain swimming; and, in spite of the fact that the convicts were close behind, he would have staggered off to the left, had not a white figure suddenly appeared on the side farthest from where Hallam and Crellock had backed close to the window, and ran swiftly to meet him. It was like some episode in a dream to Bayle, as that white figure flew to his side. "Quick, Mr Bayle, quick!" and, catching at Eaton in the belief that she was helping to bear him, Julia pressed towards the house. "Julie! are you mad?" roared Hallam, as soon as she was seen; and Crellock started out after her.