more dangerous of the enemy--those provided with firearms--while the troopers handling the long spears fashioned from pew timbers made effective use of their weird weapons. They thrust them at the enemy, giving terrible wounds. They beat them over the head till many dropped, and then advancing a pace or two, so that their weapons projected through the doorway over the carcass of the horse, they drove the peasants away from the entrance altogether. [Illustration: THE PEASANTS BREAK IN THE CHURCH DOORS] "Stop firing!" shouted Tom, seeing that the peasants were retreating. "We have taught them a sharp lesson, and that is enough for the moment. We don't want to rouse their anger further, and will try to show them that all we want is to be left alone, but that if they attack us we are fully able to give hard knocks in return. Anyone hurt?" He repeated the words in French, and was relieved to hear that not one of the men had received so much as a scratch. "Then we are well out of the first attack. Now we'll eat," he said. "We shall have to go on short rations without a doubt, and since that can't be helped we must make the most of it." Leaving a man still in the belfry, and one of the troopers on the ledge, he posted two others at the rear of the church. Then he and Andrews, with the help of two of the troopers, collected all the rations contained in the saddle bags, divided them into four portions, and finally issued a share of one portion to each one of the defenders. Thereafter they sat in the darkness eating the food, while, there being no news of the enemy, who seemed to have retired to the village, some of the men went to sleep, while others lit pipes and smoked contentedly. Tom sat down beside Mr. Riley and Jack, and devoured his own meal with an avidity which showed that excitement rather increased his appetite than the reverse. "Splendidly managed, lad!" declared Mr. Riley, when he had finished the meal. "Not the eating of your rations, but the defence. Dear, dear, what a loss to the service!" "Which service, sir?" asked Jack swiftly, for though wounded, and more or less incapable, the old spirit was still there. There was, in fact, a cheeky grin of enquiry on his somewhat pallid features, a pallor made even more evident by the flickering flame of a torch burning near the trio. "Eh?" asked Mr. Riley, taken aback. "Which service? _The_ service, I said." "Army?" grinned Jack exasperatingly. "I'll hammer you, my lad, when once you're fit," laughed the naval officer. "As if anyone could misunderstand me! I say that _the_ service has lost a budding Nelson--a Nelson, Jack; as good a man as ever trod a deck. Tom's a loss to the service, now isn't he?" "Army; yes, sir," grinned Jack, rolling his eyes at the naval officer.