Staunchly as Walter's troopers maintained the defence, they were sorely pressed, for the enemy still outnumbered them by three to one. Several times the Hessians almost forced their way in, at one or other of the windows, but each time Walter, who kept four men with him as a reserve, rushed to the assistance of the defenders of the windows and drove them back; but this could not last. The defenders were hard pressed at several points, and Walter, feeling sure that his father would be up in a very few minutes, called the men off from their posts and stationed them on the staircase.  
With shouts of triumph, the Hessians burst in. The hall was filled with a crowd of furious soldiers, who hurled themselves like a wave at the defenders of the staircase. All the pistols had long since been emptied, and they fought sword to sword. Walter had detached five of his little party to hold the top of the other staircase, should the assailants try to force a passage there; and he had but ten men now, and several of these severely wounded, to hold the staircase.
 
Great as the advantage that the position gave the defenders, they were forced up step by step, and Walter began to fear that he would be driven to the landing before succour came, when a crowd of figures suddenly burst in at the hall door, and above the cracking of pistols, which at once arose, he heard his father's voice:
 
"Down with the murdering dogs! No quarter!"
 
Taken wholly by surprise, ignorant of the force by which they were attacked, and taken between two bodies of enemies, the Hessians turned to fly. Walter and his men at once pressed down upon them, while the newcomers fell upon them with fury.
 
There was but little resistance, for the Hessians thought only of flight. Some burst through their assailants and gained the door; more fled down the passages, and escaped by the windows through which they had entered; but more than thirty of them fell in the hall.
 
The instant resistance was over, Captain Davenant ran out with his men to secure the horses. A few of the Hessians, who had escaped from the front door, had jumped on the backs of the nearest animals and ridden off. The rest had fled on foot, and the exulting troopers counted seventy-two horses remaining in their hands. Captain Davenant at once returned to the house.
 
"Where are you, Walter?" he shouted; but there was no answer. Getting more light, Captain Davenant searched hastily among the numerous bodies scattered in the hall, and soon came upon Walter, who was lying, insensible, just at the foot of the stairs. The excitement had supported him so long as the defence had to be continued; but, as soon as succour appeared, and the assailants retreated, he had stumbled forward with his men, and had fallen insensible from loss of blood at the foot of the stairs. Captain Davenant hastily examined him.
 
"Thank God," he said to Larry, who had smuggled himself over with the second detachment, "he has no other wound but this on the shoulder, and has only fainted from loss of blood! Run upstairs, and snatch a sheet from one of the beds. We will soon make some bandages."
 
Larry did as he was ordered. Slips were torn off the sheets, and, after cutting Walter's coat and shirt from his shoulder, Captain Davenant bound and bandaged up the wound. In the meantime, Larry had got some spirits from the buffet in the dining room, and a spoonful or two were poured down Walter's throat, and in a few minutes he opened his eyes. For a moment he looked confused, then he smiled at his father.
 
"You were just in time," he said. "We couldn't have held out much longer."
 
"Yes, we were just in time, thank God!" his father said; "but where are the ladies?"
 
"In the drawing room. Mrs. Conyers has fainted."
 
Captain Davenant ran upstairs. Claire had succeeded in restoring her mother, who had just sat up when Captain Davenant entered.
 
"My daughter tells me that you have rescued us, you and your son," she said faintly. "How can I thank you enough?"
 
"Never mind that now, my dear lady," Captain Davenant said hastily. "Just at present, we have no time to lose. The fellows who have escaped will carry the news to William's camp, and in half an hour we shall have a regiment of cavalry here. I must retreat at once, and carry my wounded with me. What will you do? Will you stay here, or will you and your daughter come with us?"
 
"Oh, I will go with you, please. If I was sure my husband would come with them, I would not fear; but he may not hear of it, and there is no saying what they might do."
 
"How is Walter, Captain Davenant?" Claire--who had been waiting impatiently for her mother to finish--burst in. "He was wounded, and there was such terrible fighting afterwards, and he has not come back with you."
 
"He fainted from loss of blood," Captain Davenant said; "but I do not think his wounds are serious.
 
"Mrs. Conyers, I can only give you five minutes. Take with you any jewels or valuables you prize most. If they should arrive without your husband, they will be sure to sack and burn the house."
 
Captain Davenant now hurried downstairs. The wounded had already been collected. There were but four so seriously wounded as to be unable to walk. Six had been killed. The wounded, including Walter, lay on blankets. Men took each a corner, and at once started to the spot where the boats had been left.
 
Captain Davenant told four men to wait at the foot of the stairs, while he went up to the drawing room. Mrs. Conyers and her daughter were already prepared. Each had thrown a shawl over her head, and had in their hands the dressing cases containing Mrs. Conyers's jewellery.
 
"Now, madam," Captain Davenant said, "if you will point out your plate chest, I have four men below in readiness to carry it to the boat. It is no use leaving that to be divided between the marauders."
 
Mrs. Conyers pointed out two chests, in one of which deeds and other valuable documents were kept, and in the other the plate, of which Mrs. Conyers had a considerable quantity. Two men seized each of them.
 
"Now, Mrs. Conyers, please accompany them as quick as you can to the river. We will follow and cover the retreat. I think we have a few minutes yet, before cavalry can arrive from the camp."
 
When Captain Davenant and the rearguard reached the bank, they found that the boats had already returned, after taking over the wounded and a portion of the detachment. The rest, with the two ladies and the female servants, at once took their places, and were taken across before any sound betokened the arrival of the enemy at the Hall.
 
"I sincerely hope, Mrs. Conyers," Captain Davenant said, as they landed, "that Mr. Conyers may accompany the first body of troops who arrive, for if not, I fear they will set fire to the Hall. They must have lost considerably over fifty men, and in their rage at finding no one on whom to wreak their vengeance, they will make no inquiry as to whom the house belongs. Indeed, they will find no one there to ask. The servants of the house had already fled, and I sent my boy's servant, Larry, round to the stables to tell the men there to ride away with the horses. They will accompany fifteen of my men, who mounted as many of the horses we captured, and are driving the rest to a ford some miles away. They are a valuable capture, and altogether, as far as we are concerned, we have made a good night's work of it."
 
"But I do not understand now," Mrs. Conyers said, "how it was that you came across just in time. How did you know that we were in such trouble? Because I am sure you would not have come across to attack the soldiers in our house, without some special reason?"
 
"No, indeed, madam, I certainly should not have made your house a battlefield. The fact is, our fortunate arrival is due entirely to my son. He made all the arrangements, without my knowing anything about it. He sent over his boy to one of your lads in the stable, and arranged that, if there should be any trouble in the house in the absence of Mr. Conyers, he should run down and signal across the river. Your daughter's maid was to let the boy know what was going on within. It was not till he had the whole business in train, that Walter told me anything about it. As it was his plan and not mine, and I could see he was extremely anxious about it, I left the matter in his hands, and authorized him to lead the first party across whenever the signal was made, night or day. Our boats would only carry twenty-five men, and four of these had to return with them. As Walter would have but a quarter of our force with him, I ordered him, in case the signal was made and he crossed, not to attack until I joined him, unless the necessity seemed very urgent. I suppose he considered it was so, for he would hardly have fallen upon some eighty or ninety troopers, unless he had deemed it most urgent."
 
"Thank God he did so!" Mrs. Conyers said, "for we owe him our lives, and more. I cannot tell you all now. It is too horrible to think of. But I shall never forget the thankfulness and joy I felt, when suddenly I heard the noise of shouts and firing, and the men who were trying to tear my child from my arms suddenly desisted and, rushing out of the room, left us alone. I fainted then, and knew nothing more till I heard, in a confused way, the sound of shouting and conflict, and Claire was bending over me, telling me that your son was holding the stairs against the Germans, and that he was expecting help to arrive every moment.
 
"Where is he? I long to see him, and give him my thanks and blessing."
 
"He is in that cottage yonder, which is at present our quarters," Captain Davenant said. "I told them to send off a trooper to Limerick, for a doctor, as soon as they got across."
 
"But you assured me his wound was not dangerous," Mrs. Conyers said anxiously.
 
"No, I am sure it is not. It is a severe wound, but not likely to have serious consequences. But I fear that some of the men are in a far worse condition."
 
"I shall install myself as head nurse," Mrs. Conyers said, decidedly. "We owe so much to you all, that that is the least I can do."
 
"Very well, Mrs. Conyers. Then I appoint you head of the hospital. I will have the four seriously wounded men moved into the cottage next to mine. You will be able to obtain plenty of assistance among the women of the village. O'Moore and I will move into other quarters, and leave the cottage to you and your daughter. Your servants can have the cottage on the other side."
 
They had now reached the door.
 
"I will just go in and see him first," Captain Davenant said.
 
Larry was sitting by Walter's couch.
 
"Well, Walter, how are you feeling?"
 
"Oh, I am all right now," Walter said, "since Larry brought me word that the boats have brought everyone across safely. I was anxious before, you know."
 
"How does your shoulder feel?"
 
"It throbs a bit, father; but that is no odds."
 
"Mrs. Conyers is coming in to see you. She is going to establish herself here, and O'Moore and I are moving out. She is going, for the present, to be head nurse."
 
"That will be nice," Walter said; "but I sha'n't want much nursing."
 
"I don't know, Walter. A downright cut with a heavy cavalry sword is not a light matter, even when it falls on the shoulder instead of the head. But you had better not talk much now, but, when you have seen Mrs. Conyers, try and get off to sleep.
 
"Larry, do you see to moving our things out, at once."
 
So saying, Captain Davenant left the room, and a minute later Mrs. Conyers came in. She took the left hand that Walter held out to her.
 
"God bless you, my boy!" she said, softly. "I shall never forget what Claire and I owe to you. All my life I shall be your grateful debtor, and some day I hope that my husband will be able to thank you for what you did for us.
 
"And now," she went on, in a lighter tone, "I am going to be your nurse, and my first order is that you lie quite quiet, and try to get to sleep. I will make you some barley water, and put it by your bedside. That is all I can do for you, till the surgeon comes to examine your wound. Claire wanted to come in to thank you herself, but the child has gone through enough for one night, so I have sent her straight to bed. I do not want her on my hands, too."
 
A few minutes later Larry, having established the two officers in another cottage, returned and took his place by Walter's bedside, while Mrs. Conyers went out to see to the comfort of the other wounded. Half an hour later, a surgeon arrived from Limerick. Two of the cases were pronounced at once to be hopeless, the other two he thought might recover. Walter's wound he said was a severe one, but in no way dangerous. The sword had probably glanced off something as it descended, so that the edge had not fallen straight on the shoulder bone. It had, however, nearly taken off the arm. Had it fallen truly, it would probably have been fatal.
 
After he had attended to the more serious cases, he dressed the wounds of the other men, several of which were quite as severe as that of Walter, although they had not incapacitated the men from making their way down to the boats.
 
Captain Davenant had kept a watch towards the Hall. And as, in an hour after they had crossed, no sheet of flame was seen arising thence, he was able to tell Mrs. Conyers that he thought that it was safe, and that either Mr. Conyers himself must have accompanied the troops, who would by this time have unquestionably arrived there, or that some officer, aware that the owner of the house was a friend, and with sufficient authority over the men to prevent its destruction, must be in command.
 
In the morning, he had a long talk with her. He suggested that she and her daughter should accompany him into Limerick, and be sent, with a flag of truce, across the bridge to join her husband in William's camp. This, however, she positively declined to accede to.
 
"In the first place," she said, "I consider that it is my duty to nurse the men who suffered for our sake. In the next place, after what we went through last night, I refuse absolutely to place myself and my daughter in the hands of the ruffians who disgrace the cause of William. Hitherto, as a Protestant, I have been an adherent of that cause, as has my husband. Henceforth, I am an Irishwoman, and as such abhor a cause which can employ such instruments, and inflict such atrocities upon Ireland. I will write a letter to my husband, telling him exactly what has happened, and how we have been preserved, and say that nothing will induce me to trust myself and Claire among William's troops, but that I shall remain on this side of the Shannon. If, as I trust will not be the case, the English force their way across the river, I shall make for Galway, and thence take ship to England, where we can join him. I intend to remain here as long as I can be useful as a nurse, and I shall then retire, with Claire, to Galway, where I have some relations, with whom I can stay until matters are decided."
 
Mrs. Conyers at once wrote the letter, which Captain Davenant carried himself into Limerick, as he was going in to report the occurrences of the preceding night. The governor immediately sent the letter across, with a flag of truce. General Sarsfield, who was in command of the cavalry, expressed himself highly pleased with the result of the raid across the Shannon, and appointed three officers to raise another troop of horse with the captured animals, which had arrived before morning at Ballygan, and to place themselves under Captain Davenant's command.
 
"Your son must be a lad after your own heart," he said to Captain Davenant. "It was indeed a most gallant action, thus, with twenty-five dismounted men only, to attack a strong troop of Hessians. I hope that, as soon as he is well enough to mount a horse again, you will introduce him to me. Keep your troop in readiness for a move, for I mean to beat them up before long."
 
"Can't I see Walter today, mamma?" Claire asked, after Captain Davenant had ridden off. "It seems so unkind, my being in the house with him, and not going in to tell him how sorry I am that he was wounded."
 
"Not today, Claire. He is very flushed an............