The Comanche was too wise to attempt to go down the ladder with a burning match in his hand. Had he done so, he would have committed the fatal error of the citizen who awakes in the night and sets out with lighted lamp to hunt for a burglar: all the advantage is on the side of the law-breaker.

But the Indian had seen the ladder leading from the second story to the lower floor, and the women were sure he would pay them a visit. Indeed, his errand would be futile unless he did so, for it was not to be supposed that he had come into the cabin through simple curiosity.

Mrs. Shirril had no fear of his trying to burn the structure, for, if he did so, his own situation would be as hopeless as theirs. The sounds of firing and the noise on the roof, which soon reached her ears, caused great uneasiness for her husband, but, like a pioneer's wife, she gave her whole attention to the peril that confronted her.

Suddenly the servant touched her arm. She did not speak, but her mistress knew the meaning of the act. The Comanche had placed his foot on the upper round of the ladder and was about to descend to the lower apartments, where they were awaiting him.

"Leave him to me," whispered Mrs. Shirril; "don't stir or do anything."

The cunning warrior knew the women were below, and he knew, too, that unless he used extreme caution, he would find himself in a veritable hornet's nest. The care with which he placed his moccasins on the rounds, and gradually came down, proved this, but the hearing of the women was attuned to so fine an edge that they traced his descent step by step until he stood on the lower floor.

Having arrived there, he paused for a minute or two, as if in doubt what next to do. Evidently he was listening in the hope that the women would betray their presence by some movement, but in this he was mistaken.

During those brief moments, Mrs. Shirril was on the point, more than once, of bringing her rifle to her shoulder and shooting down the wretch who was seeking their lives; but accustomed as she was to the rough experience of the frontier, she could not nerve herself to the point of doing so. She knew the precise spot where he was standing, and, at the first direct approach, she would shoot him as if he was a rabid dog. But so long as he was motionless, she refrained.

What the Comanche would have done at the end of a few minutes it is impossible to say, had not an interruption, as surprising as it was unexpected by all parties, taken place.

CHAPTER XX.

"THE BOYS HAVE ARRIVED!"

The embers on the hearth had smouldered so low that they were mere points of light that served to make the gloom deeper and more expressive. But suddenly a half-burned stick fell apart, and a little twist of flame filled almost the entire room with light.

By its illumination the Indian was seen standing at the foot of the ladder, his rifle grasped in his left hand, his right at his hip, while his body was crouching in the att.i.tude of intense attention, and as if he were on the point of making a leap forward.

He happened to be looking toward the fireplace; but, fortunately for the women, both were gazing straight at him. He glanced to the right and left, and, catching sight of the figures behind him, wheeled like a panther, emitting a hiss of exultation at the knowledge that he had found his victims at last.

But the first dart of his serpent-like eyes showed the white woman, as immovable as a statue, with her rifle levelled at his chest and her delicate forefinger on the trigger.

Mrs. Shirril had the drop on him!

"If you move, I will shoot you dead!" she said in a low voice, in which there was not the first tremor.

Possibly the Comanche did not understand the English tongue, but he could not mistake her meaning. He knew that on the first motion to raise his rifle, draw his knife, or take one step toward the couple, he would be slain where he stood. He, therefore, remained as motionless as she who held him at her mercy.

The tiny twist of flame on the hearth, that had served our friends so well, would soon burn itself out; it was already flickering, and, if left alone, the room would soon be in darkness again, and the situation would undergo a radical change.

"Dinah," said her mistress, without changing her position, or raising her voice, "keep the fire burning!"

"Yes'm, I will," she replied, shuffling hurriedly across the floor to the hearth, where she stooped down. She scorned to turn out of the way of the prisoner, lest he should fancy he was held in fear. She pa.s.sed him almost close enough to touch, and showed her contempt by shaking her fist at him.

"Oh, you willian! I'd like to wring your neck for comin' into my dispartment without axin' permission."

A strange flicker shot from the eyes of the warrior as they followed her for a moment, but he neither moved nor spoke, his gaze reverting again to his conqueror.

Under the deft manipulation of Dinah's fingers, the flames shot up with more vigor than before. Then, recalling the risk that this involved, Mrs. Shirril told her to come to her side, where she would be out of range of any of their enemies who might be near the windows.

"That will burn for a considerable time," added the lady, referring to the fire the servant had renewed, "so, if you please, you may go to the scuttle and see how the captain is getting along."

"Wouldn't you like to do that, missis?" asked Dinah.

"But I must watch this person."

"I'll do dat."

Her mistress, however, read her meaning in her tones and manner. She was eager to get a chance at the fellow, and, if she did, even for only a few seconds, it would go hard with him.

"No; I will attend to him; do as I told you."

There was no questioning the decision of the little lady, and Dinah, with another threatening gesture at the painted face of the savage, went by him and began climbing the ladder.

"Neber mind," she said to herself, though her mistress overheard the words, "when I come downstairs again, I'll cotch one ob my feet and tumble onto you, and you'll be squashed worser dan if de house tumbled ober your head."

The captive seemed to understand what all this meant. He had escaped thus far, but he might well fear the consequences, after the man aloft put in an appearance.

Dinah had hardly pa.s.sed out of sight when the Comanche said in a low voice:

"Me go--won't hurt."

Although the intonation of the words was wrong, the woman knew from the glance at the door, which accompanied them, that he meant to ask permission to depart.

"Yes, you can go," was the astonishing answer, and she nodded her head.

The Indian moved hesitatingly at first, in the direction of the entrance, keeping his gleaming eyes on the woman, as if doubtful whether she understood him.

"Go on, be quick," she added rea.s.suringly, though she took care that the old-fashioned weapon was not lowered or turned aside.

The voices of the servant and her master were plainly heard above, and the Comanche saw it was no time for tarrying. A couple more steps took him to the door, and, with little effort, he lifted the huge bolt from its place, pulled open the structure, and whisked out in the darkness, without so much as a "good-night" or "thank you."

The instant he vanished, Mrs. Shirril set down her gun, darted forward, and slipped back the bolt, making the door as secure as before.

It was a strange act on her part thus releasing the red miscreant who was seeking her life, but, after all, it was characteristic of her s.e.x.

She had little more than time to set things to rights, as may be said, when she stepped back and away from the windows, and sat down in the nearest chair. A slight reaction came over her; she felt weak, though she knew it would not amount to anything: she had been through too many perils before.

The feet and lower limbs of Captain Shirril soon appeared on the rounds of the ladder, with Dinah close behind him. In her eagerness to get at the Indian, she stooped forward, so that her big dusky face showed almost over his shoulders. She was just getting ready to fall on the warrior, when she observed that he was gone.

"Whar's dat willian?" she demanded, glancing round the dimly lit room.

"Yes, Edna, I heard you had a guest down here."

"He asked me to let him go, and I thought it was the best way to get rid of him," replied the wife with a smile, for her strength was returning to her.

"Humph!" snorted the disgusted Dinah, as one of her feet came down on the floor with a bang, "I's got my 'pinion of sich foolishness as dat."