along, wished that she had at least taken time to visit the well; tantalizing visions of a cool, brimming gourd of water danced before her. But, too, there were other hallucinations, induced by the heat. Mistress Ball's face, for instance, convulsed with terror and grief, seemed to peer at her from every dust-covered bush. The stern white face of Uzal Ball, too, seemed to be staring at her from every glimmering, sun-glinting rock. Unconsciously, poor Sally goaded herself along by these images of her brain, so that by the time she found herself arrived at the designated spot, at the end of the field, she was glad enough to sink down upon a piece of trap rock and mop her streaming face.
It was not long then, before Zenas's faithful, sturdy figure could be seen clambering out between the corn stalks, leading Sally's horse stumblingly along behind him. Sally watched them apathetically.
But all at once she stiffened into attention. Her keen ears had caught the suggestion of a sound upon the road below her. She waited breathlessly. It came nearer, yet nearer, revolved into the muffled hammer of a horse's hoofs, at last, rising and falling upon the dust of the lane.
Sally sprang to her feet, her face toward Zenas. She must warn him! Her horse must not be seized by some renegade red-coat or wandering Hessian
