ining-room. I could grope my way upstairs, and
I know his chamber."

"How would you manage about the women folk?"

"Let 'em alone except they shrieked, and then I'd soon quieten 'em. I
could wish to find the old chap asleep. If he waked, he'd be dangerous."

"Has he arms?"

"Firearms, allus--and allus loadened."

"Then you're a fool to stop us here. A shot would give the alarm. Moore
would be on us before we could turn round. We should miss our main
object."

"You might go on, I tell you. I'd engage Helstone alone."

A pause. One of the party dropped some weapon, which rang on the stone
causeway. At this sound the rectory dog barked again
furiously--fiercely.

"That spoils all!" said the voice. "He'll awake. A noise like that might
rouse the dead. You did not say there was a dog. Damn you! Forward!"

Forward they went--tramp, tramp--with mustering, manifold, slow-filing
tread. They were gone.

Shirley stood erect, looked over the wall, along the road.

"Not a soul remains," she said.

She stood and mused. "Thank God!" was the next observation.

Caroline repeated the ejaculation--not in so steady a tone. She was
trembling much. Her heart was beating fast and thick; her face was cold,
her forehead damp.

"Thank God for us!" she reiterated. "But what will happen elsewhere?
They have passed us by that they may make sure of others."

"They have done well," returned Shirley, with composure. "The others
will defend themselves. They can do it. They are prepared for them. With
us it is otherwise. My finger was on the trigger of this pistol. I was
quite ready to give that man, if he had entered, such a greeting as he
little calculated on; but behind him followed three hundred. I had
neither three hundred hands nor three hundred weapons. I could not have
effectually protected either you, myself, or the two poor women asleep
under that roof. Therefore I again earnestly thank God for insult and
peril escaped."

After a second pause she continued: "What is it my duty and wisdom to do
next? Not to stay here inactive, I am glad to say, but, of course, to
walk over to the Hollow."

"To the Hollow, Shirley?"

"To the Hollow. Will you go with me?"

"Where those men are gone?"

"They have taken the highway; we should not encounter them. The road
over the fields is as safe, silent, and solitary as a path through the
air would be. Will you go?"

"Yes," was the answer, given mechanically, not because the speaker
w