tress?" Parson Chapman's voice was as gentle as usual, but his eyes were very keen.
His parishioner flushed a little. "We-ell," she hesitated, "o' course he be not bothered by the maid all day long as I be. He—yes, I must admit it—he be fonder o' Sally than I; but, as I say, he is either working i' the fields or off soldiering and, not seeing much—not seeing overly much o' her, he—he—finds her agreeable when he comes home, and so—and—so"
The minister, by his upflung hand, brought Mistress Todd's flounderings to an abrupt termination. "And so the question o' Sally remains," he was commencing. When, all at once, the sunny doorway was darkened.
"Oh—oh, Parson Chapman!" Sally, gasping and staring, wide-eyed, stood upon the threshold pointing helplessly behind her. "Parson Chapman!"
Both minister and hostess sprang to their feet at the unmistakable note of alarm in the girl's voice.
"What is it, Sally?"
"The red-coats! The red-coats be a-coming!"
Parson Chapman, at this, snatched up his hat and, jamming it upon his head, was away through the open door like a flash.
"They be at the turn o' the road, sir!" screamed Sally after him, running down the garden walk.
