Wild yells arose,
then fierce returning fires, and these showed that the brigands were
being driven back.
The guards could endure this no longer.
"They are beating us," cried one of the men, with a curse. "We must go
and fight."
"What shall we do with these prisoners?"
"Tie them and leave them."
"Have you a rope?"
"No. There is one by the grave."
"Let's take the prisoners there and bind them."
This proposition was accepted; and, seizing the priest and Ethel, the
four men hurried them back to the grave. The square hole lay there
just beside them, with the earth by its side. Ethel tried to see into
it, but was not near enough to do so. One of the men found the rope,
and began in great haste to bind the arms of the priest behind him.
Another began to bind Ethel in the same way.
But now there came loud cries, and the rush of men near them. A loud,
stern voice was encouraging the men.
"On! on!" he cried. "Follow me! We'll drive them back!"
Saying this, a man hurried on, followed by a score of brigands.
It was Girasole.
He had been guarding the woods at this side when he had seen the rush
that had been made farther up. He had seen his men driven in, and was
now hurrying up to the place to retrieve the battle. As he was running
on he came up to the party at the grave.
He stopped.
"What's this?" he cried.
"The prisoners--we were securing them."
It was now lighter than it had been, and dawn was not far off. The
features of Girasole were plainly distinguishable.
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