Ere Alice could speak old Sam’s voice was heard parleying with the marauders.

“That’s a nigger, shoot him!” growled one, but the white head was withdrawn from view just in time to escape the ball aimed at it.

There was a rush, now for the kitchen door, a horrid sound of fearful oaths, mingled with the cries of the negroes, the furious yells of Rover, whom Lulu had let loose, and the neighing of the frightened steeds.  But amid it all Alice retained her self-possession.  She had descended from her post on the housetop, and persuading Mrs. Worthington, Aunt Eunice, and Densie to remain quietly in her own room, joined the negroes below, cheering them by her presence, and by her apparent fearlessness keeping up their sinking courage.

“We’s better gin dem de hosses, Miss Ellis,” Claib said, entreatingly, as blow after blow fell upon the yielding door—­“‘cause dey’s boun’ to hab ’em.”

“I’ll try argument first with their leader,” Alice replied, and ere Claib suspected her intention she was undoing the fastenings of a side door, bidding him bolt it after her as soon as she was safely through it.”

“Is Miss Ellis crazy?” shrieked Sam.  “Dem men has no ’spect for female wimmen,” and he was forcibly detaining her, when the sharp ring of a revolver was heard, accompanied by a demoniacal shriek as a tall body leaped high in the air and then fell, weltering in its blood.

A moment more and a little dusky figure came flying down the stairs, and hiding itself behind the astonished Alice, sobbed hysterically:  “I’se done it, I has!  I’se shooted old Harney!” and Mug, overcome with excitement, rolled upon the floor like an India rubber ball.

It was true, as Mug had said.  Secreted by the huge chimney she had watched the proceedings below, keeping her eye fixed on him she knew to be Harney; and, at last, when a favorable opportunity occurred, had sent the ball which carried death to him and dismay to his adherents, who crowded around their fallen leader, forgetful now of the prey for which they had come, and anxious only for flight.  Possibly, too, their desire to be off was augmented by the fact that from the woods came the sound of voices and the tramp of horses’ feet—­Colonel Tiffton, who, with a few of his neighbors, was coming to the rescue of Spring Bank.  But their services were not needed to drive away the foe, for ere they reached the gate, the yard was free from the invaders, who, bearing their wounded leader, Harney, in their midst, disappeared behind the hill, one of them, the brutal Texan, who had raised his gun at Alice, lingering behind the rest, and looking back to see the result of his infernal deed.  Secretly, when no one knew it, he had kindled a fire at the rear of the wooden building, which being old and dry caught readily, and burned like tinder.