nto his arms while she stepped into the boat. A servant,
hurrying over the arbored path, announced--

"Your friends from the Manor have arrived and are waiting to see you."

"Oh, Richard," came in disappointed tones from Mrs. Waldron, "we cannot
take our trip. They have come so far we must offer them at least a day's
hospitality."

Regretfully they turned and cordially received their guests. The plans
for entertainment crowded out all thought of the river trip and a day on
the farm.

The farm two miles up the river belonged to Madam Ursula Cutt. It was a
busy place, while the Waldrons were detained at home that July morning.
Madam Cutt was over-seeing her household affairs as well as keeping a
watchful eye on the hay-makers at work in the field. The maid at the
washtub remarked, as her mistress stepped to the door with basket and
scissors to gather flowers.

"Dover has felt the fury of the Indians. They may yet come down the
river!"

"It may be well for us to move into town as soon as the haying is done,"
Madam Cutt replied, and passed on to the garden.

The maid rinsed the white linen and lifting a basketful stepped out to
spread it on the grass to dry. With the awful fear of Indians still on
her mind, she peered through the trees to the river, half expecting to
see the dreaded creatures bounding up the bank.

The clothes were spread on the green when her piercing gaze caught a
strange movement of the water. A second look discerned the curve of a
canoe. Madam Cutt was off in the flower garden. The hay-makers were in
the fields. There was scarcely a moment in which to find shelter. Darting
into the grape arbor, the maid then crept behind bushes and through uncut
grass to the river slope around the bend. At last she was hidden from the
farm-site. On she sped with all haste toward the town. There was a gap of
water to be crossed. She found a boat and pulled at the oars in the
direction of Portsmouth.

While the Waldrons and their guests in the Portsmouth home were gaily
chatting at the table, cries of "The Indians! The Indians!" were shrieked
through the hall, and the terrified girl in working clothes rushed in
exhausted.

As soon as she recovered her voice, she poured forth brokenly, "The
Indians--I ran--They didn't see me!"

"But Madam Cutt, where is she?" asked Col. Waldron.

"She was in the garden! She must be killed! There was no time! I hid in
the bushes, crept over the meadow, and ran to the point, w