she had cried,
bravely rushing into the shop; and it was no thanks to the rioters that
she had not been very roughly handled indeed. Luckily the police just
then had got in by the back of the building, and had dragged her away.

Even into the quiet Close there had penetrated certain ominous sounds
indicative of what was going on in the Market Place. And poor old Anna
had gone quite white, or rather yellow, with fright.

By the next morning the cold fit had succeeded the hot fit, and all
Witanbury was properly ashamed of what had happened. The cells under the
Council Chamber were fuller than they had ever been, and no one could be
found to say a good word for the rioters.

As for Dr. Haworth, he was cut to the heart by what had occurred, and it
became known that he had actually offered the hospitality of the Deanery
to Mr. and Mrs. Alfred Head, even to sending his own carriage for
them--or so it was averred. Gratefully had they accepted his kindness;
and though Alfred Head was now back in his place of business, trying to
estimate the damage and to arrange for its being made good, Polly was
remaining on at the Deanery for a few hours.

* * * * *

But those two days, which will be always remembered by the people of the
cathedral city as having witnessed the one War riot of Witanbury, were
to have very different associations for Mrs. Otway and her daughter,
Rose Blake. For on the morning of the 26th a telegram arrived at the
Trellis House containing the news that at last the exchange of disabled
prisoners had been arranged, and that Major Guthrie's name was in the
list of those British officers who might be expected back from Germany,
_via_ Holland, within the next forty-eight hours.

And, as if this was not joy enough, Sir Jacques, on the same day, told
his young friends that now at last the time had come when they might go
off, alone together, to the little house, within sound of the sea, which
an old friend of Lady Blake had offered to lend them for Jervis's
convalescence--and honeymoon.

CHAPTER XXVIII

Anna was hurrying through the quiet streets of Witanbury on her way to
Mr. Head's Stores.

As she walked along, looking neither to the right nor to the left, for
she had of late become unpleasantly conscious of her alien nationality,
she pondered with astonishment and resentment the events of the last two
days--the receipt of a telegram by Mrs. Otway, and its destruction,