red-coats be below i' the barn!" she whispered below her breath. "Oh, Zenas, must we die like this?"
Strangely enough, it was the boy who took charge in this crisis. "Run to the end of the haymow—back, where ye cannot be seen, Sally—and burrow in! I will do the same at this end! Perchance we may escape! Only, go far in, for swords are long, and—and bayonets jab deep"
Ah, now how Sally wished that they had done as Captain Camp had ordered, had not weakly yielded to weariness! If only they were tramping toward the Mountain now! For even had they met the enemy, they might have hidden in the underbrush, as the old refugee had advised, and so escaped! Sally's breath came in great panting gasps—were they to be stuck like squealing pigs? She clenched her teeth to keep from nervous screaming, shrinking as steps upon the ladder could be heard, ascending. Almost as though she were staring at them, with her mind's eye she could see a file of British soldiers clamber up into the hayloft, to stand with bayonets held in position and an officer following them with drawn sword. But the words which she heard uttered were not imaginary!
"Search the haymow!" came the order in a deep, cold voice. "An rebels be concealed there, we will gie them all they might desire! Attention—bayonets!"
