all mixed up together in inextricable disorder.

The design of the people was to force Master Graham to take refuge
in his dwelling, and to defend it until the authorities could
interfere, or they could gain time for parley. But either from
ignorance or in the confusion of the moment they stopped at his old
house, which was closely shut. Some time was lost in beating the
doors open and passing him to the front. About a score of the
boldest of the other party threw themselves into the torrent while
this was being done, and reaching the door at the same moment with
himself cut him off from his defenders.

'I never will turn in such a righteous cause, so help me Heaven!'
cried Graham, in a voice that at last made itself heard, and
confronting them as he spoke. 'Least of all will I turn upon this
threshold which owes its desolation to such men as ye. I give no
quarter, and I will have none! Strike!'

For a moment they stood at bay. At that moment a shot from an
unseen hand, apparently fired by some person who had gained access
to one of the opposite houses, struck Graham in the brain, and he
fell dead. A low wail was heard in the air, - many people in the
concourse cried that they had seen a spirit glide across the little
casement window of the Bowyer's house -

A dead silence succeeded. After a short time some of the flushed
and heated throng laid down their arms and softly carried the body
within doors. Others fell off or slunk away in knots of two or
three, others whispered together in groups, and before a numerous
guard which then rode up could muster in the street, it was nearly