. The
pulsations of her heart became a turmoil now, for why should these men,
if they were the press-gang, and strangers to the locality, have supposed
that a sailor was to be found here, the younger of the two millers
Loveday being never seen now in any garb which could suggest that he was
other than a miller pure, like his father? One of the men spoke.

'I am not sure that we are in the right place,' he said.

'This is a mill, anyhow,' said another.

'There's lots about here.'

'Then come this way a moment with your light.'

Two of the group went towards the cart-house on the opposite side of the
yard, and when they reached it a dark lantern was opened, the rays being
directed upon the front of the miller's waggon.

'"Loveday and Son, Overcombe Mill,"' continued the man, reading from the
waggon. '"Son," you see, is lately painted in. That's our man.'

He moved to turn off the light, but before he had done so it flashed over
the forms of the speakers, and revealed a sergeant, a naval officer, and
a file of marines.

Anne waited to see no more. When Bob stayed up to grind, as he was doing
to-night, he often sat in his room instead of remaining all the time in
the mill; and this room was an isolated chamber over the bakehouse, which
could not be reached without going downstairs and ascending the
step-ladder that served for his staircase. Anne descended in the dark,
clambered up the ladder, and saw that light strayed through the chink
below the door. His window faced towards the garden, and hence the light
could not as yet have been seen by the press-gang.

'Bob, dear Bob!' she said, through the keyhole. 'Put out your light, and
run out of the back-door!'

'Why?' said Bob, leisurely knocking the ashes from the pipe he had been
smoking.

'The press-gang!'

'They have come? By God! who can have blown upon me? All right,
dearest. I'm game.'

Anne, scarcely knowing what she did, descended the ladder and ran to the
back-door, hastily unbolting it to save Bob's time, and gently opening it
in readiness for him. She had no sooner done this than she felt hands
laid upon her shoulder from without, and a voice exclaiming, 'That's how
we doos it--quite an obleeging young man!'

Though the hands held her rather roughly, Anne did not mind for herself,
and turning she cried desperately, in tones intended to reach Bob's ears:
'They are at the back-door; try the front!'

But inexperienced Miss Garland little