ovement should take Elizabeth from between the soldiers and
the projection of the spinet, or if the soldiers should enter further
and chance to look under the spinet, he would be seen.

"Don't you understand?" said Elizabeth, assuming one impatience to
conceal another. "There's no time to lose! 'Twas the rebel Peyton!
He's afoot!"

"The road to Tarrytown, you say?" replied Colden, gathering back his
faculties.

"Yes, to Tarrytown! Why do you wait?" Her vehemence of tone sufficed
to cover the growing insupportability of her situation.

"To the road again, men!" Colden ordered. "Till we meet, Elizabeth!"
And he hastened, with the rangers, from the place.

[Illustration: "'YOU ARE TOO LATE, JACK!'"]

Peyton and Elizabeth remained motionless till the sound of the horses
was afar. Then Elizabeth called Williams, who, as she had supposed,
had come into the hall with the rangers. He now entered the parlor.
Elizabeth, whose back was still towards Peyton, who had risen and was
leaning on the spinet, addressed the steward in a low, embarrassed
tone, as if ashamed of the weakness newly come over her.

"Williams, this gentleman will remain in the house till his wound is
healed. His presence is to be a secret in the household. He will
occupy the southwestern chamber." She then turned and spoke, in a
constrained manner, to Peyton, not meeting his look. "It is the room
your General Washington had when he was my father's guest."

With an effort, she raised her eyes to his, but shyly dropped them
again. He bowed his thanks gravely, rather shamefaced at the success
of his deception. A moment later, Elizabeth, with averted glance,
walked quickly from the room.

CHAPTER VIII.

THE SECRET PASSAGE.

The steward immediately set about preparing the designated chamber for
occupancy, so that Peyton, on being carried up to it a few minutes
later, found it warm and lighted. It was a large, square, panelled
apartment, in which the fireplace of 1682 remained unchanged, a wide,
deep, square opening, faced with Dutch tile, of which there were
countless pieces, each piece having a picture of some Scriptural
incident. Into this fireplace, where a log was burning crisply, Peyton
gazed languidly as he lay on the bed, his clothes having been removed
by black Sam, who had been assigned to attend him, and who now lay in
the wide hall without. Williams had taken another look at the wound,
and expressed a favorable opinion of its conditio