ude to the blacksmith.

However, of course, it was not possible to keep this strange
hiding-place a secret, so he led the way by the path the cattle had
trodden out through the brushwood to the open space where they drank,
and where stood the hermit's hut, a dreary looking den built of big
stones, and with rough slates covering it. There was a kind of hole for
the doorway, and another for the smoke to get out at. Blane whistled
with dismay at the sight of it, and told Stead he could not take the
children to such a place.

"We will get it better," said Stead.

"That we will," returned Patience, who felt anything better than being
separated from her brother.

"It is weather-tight," added Stead, "and when it is cleaned out you will
see!"

"And the soldiers will never find it," added Patience.

"There is something in that," said Blane. "But at any rate, though it be
summer, you can never sleep there to-night."

"The girls cannot," said Stead, "but I shall, to look after things."

These were long days, and by the evening many of the remnants of
household stuff had been brought, the cows and Whitefoot had been
tied up in their dilapidated shed, with all the hay Stead could gather
together to make them feel at home. There was a hollow under the rock
where he hoped to keep the pigs, but neither they nor the sheep could
be brought in at present. They must take their chance, the sheep on the
moor, the pigs grubbing about the ruins of the farmyard. The soldiers
must be too busy for marauding, to judge by the constant firing that had
gone on all day, the sharp rattle of the musquets, and now and then the
grave roll of a cannon.

Stead had been too busy to attend, but half the village had been
watching from the height, which accounted perhaps for the move from the
farm having been so uninterrupted after the first.

It was not yet dark, when, tired out by his day's hard work, Stead
sat himself down at the opening of his hut with Toby by his side. The
evening gold of the sky could hardly be seen through the hazel and
mountain-ash bushes that clothed the steep opposite bank of the glen and
gave him a feeling of security. The brook rippled along below, plainly
to be heard since all other sounds had ceased except the purring of a
night-jar and the cows chewing their cud. There was a little green glade
of short grass sloping down to the stream from the hut where the rabbits
were at play, but on each side the trees and brushwoo