Morley and his companions had taken up an advantageous
position at the head of the staircase.
"Surrender," said the commander of the yeomanry. "Resistance
is useless."
Morley presented his pistol, but before he could pull the
trigger a shot from a trooper in the rear, and who from his
position could well observe the intention of Morley, struck
Stephen in the breast; still he fired, but aimless and without
effect. The troopers pushed on; Morley fainting fell back
with his friends who were frightened, except Devilsdust, who
had struck hard and well, and who in turn had been slightly
sabred. The yeomanry entered the muniment room almost at the
same time as their foes, leaving Devilsdust behind them, who
had fallen, and who cursing the Capitalist who had wounded him
managed to escape. Morley fell when he had regained the room.
The rest surrendered.
"Morley! Stephen Morley!" exclaimed the commander of the
yeomanry. "You, you here!"
"Yes. I am sped," he said in a faint voice. "No, no succour.
It is useless and I desire none. Why I am here is a mystery;
let it remain so. The world will misjudge me; the man of
peace they will say was a hypocrite. The world will be wrong,
as it always is.
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