h the manse and warn his father before
the soldiers arrived at the meeting-house. He ran fast, choosing the
shortest and easiest way, avoiding boggy patches of ground which would
have checked his progress. After a while, from a point of vantage, he
was able to catch a glimpse of the road. He noted that he was level with
the yeomen, and he knew that from the point where he saw them the road
took a wide curve inland. He calculated that by running fast he would be
able to cross it in front of the troop, and by keeping along the cliffs
would be able to reach the manse before the soldiers did. He sped
forward. Suddenly, as he descended the hill to the road, he became aware
of two figures crouching behind the bank which divided the road from
the field. He was dimly aware that they were women. He did not look
carefully at them. His eyes were fixed on the horsemen against whom he
was racing. He gained the edge of the field and sprang upon the bank. He
heard his name called softly.

"Neal, Neal, Neal Ward."

Then somewhat louder by another voice.

"Mr. Neal, come and help us."

He recognised Una's voice and then that of the Comtesse. He had no time
to think what they wanted or how they came to be crouching in a damp
ditch in the rain while the evening darkened over them. He leaped from
the bank, crossed the road, and raced off again towards his father's
house.

He arrived at the door, breathless, but sure that he was in good time.
He burst into the sitting-room and found his father and uncle, their
lamp already lighted, bending over a pile of papers which lay before
them on the table.

"The soldiers, the yeomen, are on their way here," he gasped.

Micah Ward started to his feet.

"What do you say?"

"The yeomen are on their way to the meetinghouse. They are going to
search for arms, for cannon, which they say are concealed there."

Micah Ward stood stock still. His body seemed to have become suddenly
rigid. His face grew quite white. Donald, leaning back in his chair,
smiled slightly.

"So," he said, "they have begun. Are there cannon there, brother?"

"Yes, there are," said Micah, slowly. "Four six-pounders. They belonged
to the Volunteers. We kept them. We thought they might be useful some
day."

"Ah," said Donald, "it's a pity. We shall have the trouble of
re-capturing them. Come, let us go down to the meeting-house. I should
like to see these terrible yeomen."

"Some one has given them information," said M