land. But instead of riding on over the ridge, he had drawn partial rein and was watching, in cool amusement, the enemy's approach. Then, as she gazed open-mouthed, he rose in his stirrups and gave a rousing cheer full in the face of the pursuing troop. His sonorous voice came faintly to Mistress Todd's ears.
"What did he say?" demanded that lady.
"He did cheer for freedom!" cried Sally, clapping her hands.
"Aye, that is what I thought!" nodded Mistress Todd, who ever hated to admit that she had missed anything. "Why, the red-coats," she craned her neck to stare, "the red-coats be drawing rein!"
As they gazed, open-mouthed, scarcely able to believe their eyes, it did seem to be a fact. The British soldiers were most assuredly slowing the headlong pace with which they had been pursuing that lonely figure, were coming to a wavering, indecisive standstill. Then, as both the feminine onlookers stared and Parson Chapman, with a last triumphant wave of his hat, rode over the hill, the British horsemen turned and trotted back down the hill toward the Todd farmhouse.
Thundering past the gate, the officer in the lead chanced to glance into the shady yard with its stone well and its long well sweep. He drew rein and, turning in his saddle, shouted out a command. At once the troop halted; and, dismounting, they
