the house fled--up the stairs? Or even
out some back way? I climbed the steps only to discover similar scenes
above; every room had been ransacked, beds pulled apart, drawers opened,
and the contents scattered about promiscuously. In what must have been
Mistress Claire's private apartment I stood with beating heart staring
about at the ruin disclosed. The large closet had been swept clean,
garments slashed with knives, and left in rags; drawers turned upside
down in search after jewels; the very curtains torn from the windows. It
was a scene of vandalism of which vagabonds alone would be guilty.

I stepped across the pile of things to the window, glancing out at the
still smouldering ruins of the stable. Whatever had occurred, neither the
lady nor Peter remained in or about the house. Of this I was satisfied,
yet with the realization there came a sudden comprehension of my own
helplessness to be of any aid. I was alone, unmounted, and with no weapon
but an old pistol. There might be other weapons on those dead men below,
but I could conceive of no effective way of making them useful. The
raiders were doubtless on horseback; they would have added to their
possessions such animals as might have remained on the place, and most
likely had departed not later than midnight with their booty and
prisoners. The hopelessness of the situation left me almost paralyzed. I
possessed no means of reaching Farrell, no knowledge of the nearest
minute man who could act as courier. From the window where I stood not a
house was visible. Just beyond the orchard the roads forked, a
well-travelled branch circling to the left, and disappearing over the
edge of a hill. As I traced it with my eyes a considerable body of
mounted men suddenly appeared on the summit. Without fear that they could
see me at that distance I watched eagerly as they trotted down the long
slope. They were plainly a squadron of British Dragoons, their arms and
cross-belts shining in the sun, in spite of the dust kicked up by their
horses' hoofs.

I waited until convinced they were coming to the house, before drawing
back out of sight. It was difficult to decide what was best for me to do.
Should I wait, trusting to my rough clothing, and pass myself off as a
countryman, or take advantage of the brief time left in which to escape?
If I essayed the first choice I could explain the situation, and start
these troopers on the trail; if not they might fail to understand and
rid