His face was white with anger; he had worked hard and dared much for success, and that such a trivial thing as this should threaten failure almost made him lose control of himself. Ethan bounded toward the captain’s boat to get the lights; but here, too, the candles had guttered out, and all that was left was a smear of tallow and the blackened end of a wick. “Lights are out here, too,” he cried. Captain Jones drew in his breath sharply. “It seems that we are to have our share of misfortune indeed,” said he with a mirthless laugh. “But lights must be had.” “There is a house a little way below there,” volunteered Ethan. “I saw it as we came along. It’s farther from the town than any other.” “Tell Browne to give you a few men, and go there, then,” said the commander instantly. “Knock and ask decently at first; but if they refuse, or delay, beat down the door and help yourself.” Ethan was back at the fort in a few moments’ sharp run. Longsword and a seaman named Freeman were given him and they started toward the house which Ethan had in mind. Now as it happened this Freeman was an Englishman and the very worst man in the Ranger to be selected for the work in hand. The house proved to be a small public inn, and the young American hammered upon the door loudly with the heavy butt of a pistol. As no answer came Longsword dealt the door a brace of lusty kicks that made the entire structure rattle. “They seem to be sound sleepers,” said Freeman, who had remained very quiet up till then. “Suppose I go around to the rear and see what can be done.” He did not wait for Ethan’s permission but at once disappeared around a corner of the building. A nervous tremble in the man’s voice caused the Irishman to instinctively suspect something. He also turned the corner a moment later, and saw Freeman speeding away towards the town. “Master Ethan,” roared the dragoon. “He’s off.” “Whom do you mean?” “The Englishman. There he goes, as fast as his legs can take him.” “We’ll have the whole of Whitehaven here in short order now,” said Ethan. “He’s gone to give the alarm.” “Not if I can stop him,” shouted the ex-trooper. He threw up his pistol with a quick, expert snap of the arm, and fired. Freeman half-halted, tottered a little, but continued on toward the town almost as fast as before. “You got him,” said Ethan. “But not enough,” grumbled Longsword. “It hardly cut the skin of him.” “Try for him, once more, with this,” and Ethan offered Shamus his own pistol. The Irishman was a wonderful shot with these awkward weapons; but the range caused him to shake his head. “Too late,” said he. “It’d take a musket to find a man at that distance.” The sound of the shot had the effect of arousing the house; a window was thrown open above, a night-capped head was protruded, while a pair of sleep heavy eyes blinked down at them in the pale light of the dawn. “Hello,” cried the owner of the night cap in a husky sort of bellow. “What’s wanted below there?”