y we stood on the edge of the wide, green lawn, now hard and
dark beneath our feet, the blades of grass stiff with frost and
breaking under our tread like tiny icicles. Between us and the dusky
shadow of the house, set against the waking gloom of the eastern sky,
there were only the black mounds of Miss Orrin's garden, where the Lent
lilies had waved so bravely in those spring days when first Elsie and I
had looked upon Deep Moat Grange.

There were about twenty of us, variously armed. I had a pistol and a
Scottish dirk. There were two or three rifles, about a dozen shotguns,
many old swords, and even a pitchfork or two in lieu of better. If the
courage of the men had been as good as their armament, we might have
assaulted a fortress by way of a forlorn hope. But concerning this
courage I had my doubts. For Breckonside was like most other villages.
The men were good enough, but valued their own skins a great deal more
than anybody else's--even that of their natural chief, my father.

Still I did not doubt but that they would do their best. For one thing
they dared not turn back. They had to stick to the pack, and, after
all, two was the extent of the number of foes they would have to
face--one of whom was old. But then the other was that terrifying
legend of the village and all the country round, Mad Jeremy himself.

Still numbers give, if not strength, at least confidence. Indeed, the
men moved so closely together, that I was in constant fear of some
weapon of war going off and giving warning to our foes within the dark
house.

What we needed was a leader. And after I had guided them across the
ice of the Moat, somehow I slipped into that position myself. I was at
least the person most concerned. I never before knew that I loved my
father--not particularly, that is. And, perhaps, after all it was only
blood-kinship that did it. At any rate, I felt a new sensation steal
upon me--a steady, cold determination to be revenged on any one who had
harmed him--to find out all about it and bring the miscreant to
justice--even to kill him if I could. Yes, there is no use denying it.
I knew the verse, "Vengeance is Mine--I will repay!" Which is very
true, but is an impossible thing to say at a time like that. No doubt
in the long run He will, and does, but it seems too long to wait.

There was not a light to be seen anywhere about the house of the Moat.
The crisp wind of earliest dawn made a dry sough among t