approach, the moon looked down upon three horsemen galloping over
the yellow ribbon of road from Malines toward the little village. Soon
the sound of the horses' hoofs beating upon the hardened earth throbbed
through the village itself, and Fidel sat up on the kitchen doorstep,
pricked up his ears, and listened. He heard the hoof-beats and awakened
the echoes with a sharp bark.

Mother Van Hove sat up in bed and listened; another dog barked, and
another, and now she, too, heard the hoof-beats. Nearer they came, and
nearer, and now she could hear a voice shouting. She shook her husband.
"Wake up!" she whispered in his ear, "something is wrong! Fidel barks,
and I hear strange noises about. Wake up!"

"Fidel is crazy," said Father Van Hove sleepily. "He thinks some weasel
is after the chickens very likely. Fidel will attend to it. Go to
sleep."

He sank back again upon his pillows, but his wife seized his arm and
pulled him up.

"Listen!" she said. "Oh, listen! Weasels do not ride on horseback!
There are hoof-beats on the road!"

"Some neighbor returning late from Malines," said Father Van Hove,
yawning. "It does not concern us."

But his wife was already out of bed, and at the window. The horsemen
were now plainly visible, riding like the wind, and as they whirled by
the houses their shout thrilled through the quiet streets of the
village: "Burghers, awake! Awake! Awake!"

Wide awake at last, Father Van Hove sprang out of bed and hastily began
putting down his clothes. His wife was already nearly dressed, and had
lighted a candle. Other lights sparkled from the windows of other
houses. Suddenly the bell in the church-steeple began to ring wildly,
as though it, too, were shaken with a sudden terror. "It must be a
fire," said Father Van Hove.

Still fastening her clothing, his wife ran out of the door and looked
about in every direction. "I see no fire," she said, "but the village
street is full of people running to the square! Hurry! Hurry! We must
take the children with us; they must not be left here alone."

She ran to wake the children, as she spoke, and, helped by her
trembling fingers, they, too, were soon dressed, and the four ran
together up the road toward the village church. The bell still clanged
madly from the steeple, and the vibrations seemed to shake the very
flesh of the trembling children as they clung to their mother's hands
and tried to keep up with their father's rapid strides.

They found a