ith surprise.

"'Tis not safe to go to meeting without them, child," responded the
matron gravely. "To such a state hath New Jersey come that 'tis
impossible to go from one's door without firelocks."

"'Tis as it was when the country was first settled," remarked Nurse
Johnson. "Only then, 'twas fear of the savages, and now----"

"'Tis of a foe no less savage, Hannah," completed her sister. "The
long years of warfare have rendered the enemy cruel and pitiless in
the extreme."

"'Tis as bad here as on the frontiers," commented Peggy. "Before we
came 'twas talked at Philadelphia that an uprising of the Indians was
looked for along the borders. In truth, methinks there hath already
been atrocities committed upon the settlers, but affairs seem no worse
with them than they are here with you."

When they finally drew up before the Freehold meeting-house it was
obvious to the least heedful that something unusual was astir.
Although the snow lay deep in front of the building and a keen nip was
in the air, there were groups of men scattered over the green. Despite
the chill, some sat upon the steps of the church, others clustered
about the wagons in the wagon-shed, and still others stood about,
stamping their feet or swinging their arms to keep warm. But whether
sitting or standing each man held a musket in the hollow of his arm
ready for instant use, while about the church two men patrolled as
sentinels. All the light and laughter died out of the faces of the
maidens at these warlike signs, and unconsciously they drew closer
together.

"I wonder what hath happened," mused Farmer Ashley stopping before the
horse-block. "What's to do, neighbor?" he called to a man in a near-by
group.

"Sam Nathan's farm was raided by the loyalists last night, Tom," came
the startling response. "His house and barns were burned, and Sam
himself killed. His wife and daughter escaped into the woods, and
reached Freehold this morning half dead from shock and exposure."

"Sam Nathan!" ejaculated Mrs. Ashley becoming pale. "Why, that was
only five miles from us, father. 'Twill be our turn next."

"Now don't go to looking for trouble, Mary," chided her husband. "You
women-folks go right into the meeting-house, and whatever you do, be
cheerful. Nevvy and I will come in presently."

The church was partly filled with sad-eyed, patient-faced women,
whose quiet demeanor was more heartrending than tears would have been.
Some gave them the welcome t