“Harry,” said my uncle about sundown, “if I could do as I liked I should rest my cuts and bruises for a few days; but, as it is, I cannot give up.  Now, look here, my lad ­here, you, Tom Bulk, don’t shrink away, man ­this is as much for your ears as for his.  I’ve been thinking this over, and, from what I know of the Indians, I’m quite sure that they mean mischief.  It seems hard, but I fear that there will be a fierce attack upon this place before many hours are past; and then, unless we can beat them off, ours will be a bad case.  You two must see to the closing up of the bottom of the place, and doing what you can to put it in a state of defence.”

“Uncle,” I said, “is not this almost madness?  Here we are, only three.  How, then, can we defend such a house as this?”

“It is our only hope,” he said gloomily.  “If we had your treasure here, we might try to escape down the river; but as it is, we’ll fight to the last, and then take to the woods.”

“And the cave ­eh, Mas’r Landell?” said Tom.

“Tom,” I cried joyfully, “why, that would indeed be a place of refuge when all here failed.”

“Yes,” said my uncle thoughtfully.  “I did not think of that.  Such a place might indeed be useful for a retreat if we could take with us provisions.  But now see about this place.  I will not leave here yet ­ not until we are obliged.”

In obedience to his wishes, though with an aching heart, I set to bolting and barring, closing shutters, and providing one or two windows that commanded likely points of assault with mattresses over which we could fire.  But all the while I knew well enough that, with anything like a daring attack, the place must be carried directly.  The great dread I had, though, was of fire, which I knew would prove the most formidable of adversaries ­for a brand applied to one of the posts of the verandah would be sufficient to ensure the total destruction of the light, sun-dried, wooden building.

Meanwhile, on returning, I found that my uncle had nearly forgotten his pains, and was busily arranging such firearms as we had ­ample, as it happened; for there were five guns, and he had a couple of brace of pistols, besides those with which we were provided.  Ammunition, too, was in fair quantity; while, one way or another, our little garrison could boast of plenty of provision.

“No sleep to-night, Harry,” said my uncle, cheerfully.  “We must all watch, for the Indians will not be satisfied till they have thoroughly ransacked the place.”

“Of course we shall beat them off if possible; but what arrangements have you made for retreat?” I said.

Without a word, my uncle led me into the kitchen of the hacienda, where he had stabled four mules, with plenty of fodder.

“We must get off unseen if we can, my lad,” he said, “and the mules will carry plenty of ammunition and food.  But about water?”

“Plenty at the cavern,” I said.

“Good!” exclaimed my uncle.  “And now look here, Harry,” he said, leading me to the inner room, and taking down a map, “show me, as nearly as you can, where the cavern lies which contains all this rich treasure.”

I examined the map as carefully as I could, and then pointed out the valley in which it seemed to me that, if the map were correct, the cavern must lie.

“You say there is water?” said my uncle ­“a stream?”

“Yes, a little rivulet.”

“Then that must run down to this river.  Good!  And here again this river joins the great Apure, which, in its turn, runs into the Orinoco.  Once well afloat, we should be pretty safe, and we could reach the mouth of the great river, and from there Georgetown, Demerara.  Why, Harry, it could not be above a dozen miles from the mouth of your cave to the water-way that should see us safe on the road homeward.”

“But about canoes, uncle?” I said.

“Canoes, my boy?  Well, of course, it would be well to have them; but we must not be particular.  I have known voyages made on skin-rafts before now; and recollect this, that we shall have the stream to bear us along the whole distance.  But there, after all, we may be alarming ourselves without cause.”

Tom and I exchanged glances at the mention of the skin-raft, and then we prepared to spend the watchful night.

“I need not hint to you, Hal, about trying to protect poor Lilla,” said my uncle, in tones that bespoke his emotion.

“No,” I said, quietly.

My look, I suppose, must have satisfied Lilla, for I received one in return full of trust and confidence in the efforts of my weak arm.

Night at last ­beautiful, though anxious night, with the sky deepening from blue to purple, to black, with the diamond-like stars spangling the deep robe of nature till it glistened with their glorious sheen.  Around us on every side was the forest, in a greater or less depth, and from it came the many nocturnal sounds ­sounds with which I was pretty familiar, but which, upon this occasion, had a more strange and oppressive effect than usual.  Boom, whizz, croak, shriek, yell, and moan, mingled with the distant rush of the great river, ever speeding onward towards the sea.  At times I could just distinguish the edge of the forest; then there would be the dark plantation spread around, and nothing more.

It was weary work that, watching ­stationed at one of the windows ­ watching till my eyes ached, as I tried to distinguish the many familiar objects by which I was surrounded, and then to make sure that some low bush was not a crouching or crawling enemy, approaching by stealth nearer and nearer, ready for a deadly spring.

It was just the time for anxious troubled thought, and the gold lay like a dead weight upon my conscience.  At that moment I could have gladly given it all wherewith to purchase safety for those beneath this roof.

I was startled from anxious reverie by a whisper at my side, and turning I found that it was Lilla, the bearer of a message from my uncle that he would like me to come to him for a few minutes.

I had scarcely mastered the message, standing there close to the open window, when the words upon my lips were arrested, and my heart beat fast, as now, unmistakably no chimera of the brain, I could see six or seven figures glide out of the darkness towards the house, straight to where I stood with Lilla.

Nearer they came, stooping down and apparently making for the shade of the verandah, till they stopped within a couple of yards of us, and began whispering in what seemed to be broken Spanish, or the patois of the Indians.  Then I felt my hands clutched more tightly than ever, as a voice that I recognised in an instant uttered a few words that sounded like an order, given as it was in a tongue very little of which I could comprehend, catching only a word or two, while my imagination supplied the rest.

It was plain enough that, perhaps ignorant of his loss, perhaps condoning it, Garcia had made common cause with the Indians, and Lilla was to be saved before fire was applied to the hacienda.

For a few moments there was a dead silence, and then the party glided along under the verandah.

“What was that Garcia said?” I then whispered to Lilla.

I knew that my interpretation must have been pretty correct from the start Lilla gave, and then her shudder.

“I dare not tell you,” she said, with a half sob.

Then leaving the window, after softly closing and securing it, we hurried, hand in hand, to my uncle.

“How long you have been!” he whispered.

“There was a party of six or seven by my window,” I said; “Garcia heading them.”

“Then I was right!” he exclaimed anxiously.  “I thought ­”

The next moment my hand was upon his lips; for, dimly-seen through the narrow aperture left, from which my uncle watched, were four dark figures; while at the same moment there was a sharp cracking noise, as of breaking woodwork, from another part of the house.

“Am I to shoot or ain’t I?  Is Mas’r Harry there?” whispered a voice from out of the darkness.  “Because they’re trying to break in here.”

“You must fire, Tom,” said my uncle huskily; “and mind this, if they do break in, our only hope is in the kitchen, which is stone built and strong.  Make your way there.”

“Right, Mas’r Landell,” said Tom coolly.

Then we heard him glide off.

“Lilla, join your mother in there,” I heard my uncle then whisper.

Directly after I knew we were alone.

“Harry,” said my uncle, “it seems to me that we ought to have beaten a retreat; but it is too late to talk of that.  Our only hope now is by giving them a sharp reception.  If we can keep them at bay till daylight we shall have a better opportunity of escaping.”

“I don’t agree with you,” I said.  “I think our hopes should be in the darkness.”

Drawing near to the window, my remarks were cut short by the sharp report of a gun, followed in a few seconds by another, when the crashing noise, evidently made by the tearing down of the jalousie bars at one window, suddenly ceased, and a loud shriek rang out upon the night air.

We neither of us spoke, as we listened attentively, to hear the next moment the sound made by a ramrod in a gun-barrel, and we knew that Tom was safe.

“They’ve gone from my window now, Mas’r Landell,” whispered a voice at our elbow; “and they won’t come back there, I think, seeing how hot it was.  But, harken there, isn’t that them trying somewhere else?”

There was no mistaking the sound.  Strong hands were striving to tear down a jalousie at the other end of the house; and, hurrying there, my uncle fired, just as several dimly-seen dark figures were beating in the window.

“Crack ­crack!” two sharp reports from my uncle’s gun; but this time, as their flashes lit up the room where we stood, the fire was replied to by half a dozen pieces, but fortunately without effect.

Then again fell silence, with once more the same result, that of a breaking jalousie at an upstairs window.

“They’ve swarmed up the verandah posts, lads,” said my uncle thickly; “but you two stay by your windows ­you at this, Harry; you, Tom, at the other.”

We heard him steal away to the staircase, and then Tom left my side.  The next instant came a loud report from upstairs, then a crash as of a falling body on the lattice-work of the verandah, and directly after a dull thud outside the window.

I had no time for thought, though, for incidents now began to succeed each other with such startling rapidity.  As the dull thud came upon the bricks beneath the verandah it seemed to me that the darkness outside the window before which I stood was gradually growing deeper.  Another instant, and I knew the reason as I levelled my heavily loaded double gun.

Was I to destroy life? my heart seemed to ask me, but only for the reply to come instantly.  Yes, if I wished to help and save the women beneath our charge; and then I drew rapidly, one after the other, both triggers.  There was a gurgling, gasping cry, and the darkness grew less dense.

“Crack ­crack!” both barrels again from Tom’s part of the house.  It was evident, then, that we had neither of us returned to our old posts too soon.

I hastily reloaded, wondering from whence would come the next attack; but I had not long to wait, for three or four sharp discharges came through the window, striking the plaster of wall and ceiling, so that it crumbled down upon me in showers.

Again and again I trembled for those in the kitchen; but the recollection of my uncle’s words encouraged me; and, trusting in the strength of its stone walls, I began to grow excited, firing and loading, till all at once, as if by common consent, there was a cessation of the discharges, followed by an ominous silence.