But he did not cry aloud and shriek, for he believed himself far from human beings who could hear and render aid, and he would not give his enemies the satisfaction of hearing him express fear. If die he must, he would die bravely.
Then, outside the window, sounded a footstep. Then, at the broken window, appeared the face of this girl. Instantly she seemed to understand his peril. In her hand she had a revolver. There was no time to run round the corner and enter the hut, for now the burning end of the fuse protruded hardly more than an inch from the hole in the keg. And so, quick as a flash, she had lifted the revolver and fired into that room.
That shot saved Frank’s life, for the bullet cut the fuse and the burning end died out and did no harm.
Then she came running into the hut and released him with a few swift slashes of a gleaming knife.
He was weak and numb, but her strong hands lifted him to his feet and she urged him from the hut, telling him that the shot must be heard by the two men, one of whom was her own father, while the other was a despised suitor for her hand.
She had brought a rifle, his own, which she put into his hands. As he grasped it strength came back to him, and he knew that he owed his life to this strange girl of the woods, whose father was a smuggler, and one of the worst men in the business.
As they emerged from the hut the two were seen coming toward the hut at a run. They saw Frank come out, and one of them lifted a revolver and fired at him.
The girl had seen the movement, and, with a cry of warning and in an attempt to keep the man from shooting, she sprang before Merry. A moment later she fell into his arms, wounded by a bullet from her father’s pistol.
With an awful cry of rage, Merry had returned the shot, breaking the man’s wrist. Then he had vowed to drop both men if they advanced another step, and that had stopped them.
He had feared the girl was dead, but she recovered, declaring the wound of no consequence. Then she had breathlessly urged him to get away, saying those men would surely kill him if he did not. He had consented only when he knew that she had been hurt too much for him to take her along. The best he could do was to leave her to the care of the men, for her father loved her in his way, ruffian though he was.