At that moment George, who was watching at another eye-hole, saw in a corner near the house a fire smouldering on the ground. A dozen blanketed figures were crouching around it. Presently they rose, and, carrying each a long and heavy fence-rail blazing at the end, made a rush around the back of the house, and, with a thundering crash and a succession of terrific whoops, pounded the stout oaken door of the kitchen with the burning rails. It was as if that barbaric yell in one instant wakened the house and converted it into a fortress. Lights shone at every window, the negroes appearing as if by magic, and Lord Fairfax in a dressing-gown, but with a musket in his hand, opening his door. Lance and George had made a rush for the armory, and each seized an armful of muskets. The negroes were each given a musket, and stationed at an eye-hole. Meanwhile the pounding at the kitchen door continued, and shook the house from end to end. Stout as the oaken planking was, it seemed impossible that it could long withstand such assaults.