uite crushed and
subdued.

There was a wild, hunted look in Hattie's eyes. "Watch the chance," she
whispered, "and run."

But it did not come. As the pews emptied, the stout lady passed Emmy Lou
on, addressing some one beyond. "Hold to this one," she said, "and I'll
take the other two, or they'll get tramped in the crowd."

Emmy Lou felt herself grasped, she could not see up to find by whom. The
crowd in the aisle had closed above her head, but she heard the stout
lady behind saying, "Did you ever see such an ill-mannered child!" and
Emmy Lou judged that Hattie was struggling against Fate.

Slowly the crowd moved, and, being a part of it however unwillingly,
Emmy Lou moved too, out of the church and down the steps. Then came the
crashing of the band and the roll of carriages, and she found herself in
the front row on the curb.

The man with the brandishing sword was threatening violently. "One more
carriage is here for the family," called the man with the sword. His
face was red and his voice was hoarse. His glance in search for the
family suddenly fell on Emmy Lou. She felt it fall.

The problem solved itself for the man with the sword, and his brow
cleared. "Grandchildren next," roared the threatening man.

"Grandchildren," echoed the crowd.

Hattie and Sadie were pushed forward from somewhere, Hattie lifting her
voice. But what was the cry of a Hattie before the brazen utterance of
the band? Sadie was weeping wildly.

Emmy Lou with the courage of despair cried out in the grasp of the
threatening man, but the man lifting her into the carriage, was speaking
himself, and to the driver. "Keep an eye on them--separated from the
family," he was explaining, and a moment later Hattie and Sadie were
lifted after Emmy Lou into the carriage, and as the door banged, their
carriage moved with the rest up the street.

"Now," said Hattie, and Hattie sprang to the farther door.

It would not open. Things never will in dreadful dreams.

Through the carriage windows the school, with its arched doorways and
windows, gazed frowningly, reproachfully. A gentleman entered the gate
and went in the doorway.

"It's our minister," said Sadie, weeping afresh.

Hattie beat upon the window, and called to the driver, but no mortal ear
could have heard above that band.

"An' my grown-up brother, an' gran'ma an' the rest," said Hattie. And
Hattie wept.

"And the visiting lady next door," said Emmy Lou. She did not mean to
weep,