She and George held their breath.
"I have hit," she said. "Now run the punt in where the light was visible."
"No, Glory; this will not do. I am not going to run you and myself into fresh danger." He struck out.
"George, you are rowing away! Give me the oars. I will find out who it was that fired at us."
"This is foolhardiness," he said, but obeyed. A couple of strokes ran the punt among the reeds. Nothing was to be seen or heard. The night was dark on the water, it was black as ink among the rushes. Several times De Witt stayed his hand and listened, but there was not a sound save the gurgle of the water, and the song of the night wind among the tassels and harsh leaves of the bulrushes.
"She is aground," said De Witt.
"We must back into the channel, and push on to the Ray," said Mehalah.
The young man jumped into the water among the roots of the reeds, and drew the punt out till she floated; then he stepped in and resumed the oars.
"Hist!" whispered De Witt.
Both heard the click of a lock.
"Down!" he whispered, and threw himself in the bottom of the punt.
Another flash, report, and a bullet struck and splintered the bulwark.
De Witt rose, resumed the oars, and rowed lustily.
Mehalah had not stirred. She had remained erect in the stern and never flinched.
"Coward!" she cried in a voice full of wrath and scorn, "I defy you to death, be you who you may!"
CHAPTER III
THE SEVEN WHISTLERS
The examination of old Abraham before George De Witt did not lead to any satisfactory result. The young man was unable to throw light on the mystery. He had not been with the shepherd all the while since the sale of the sheep; nor had he seen the money. Abraham had indeed
