"No, but we expect them every minute."
We brought our horses into the yard, so as to be at hand, and entered
the house.
"Your husband is not back yet?"
"No, but they say he is safe."
The door opened noiselessly, and the man himself stood before us. He had
also taken a look through the window before entering. He placed his gun
in a corner, kissed his wife and children, and shook hands with us.
"We've had a hard day;" he said, "let's go in to supper."
After the meal, even more silent than is habitual amongst us, where
talking at table is almost as bad form as making a joke with a minister
would be in Sloper's Scotland, our host told us that the English had
camped on the spot where they had fought, and that he did not think they
would march till daylight. It was best for us to sleep there that night,
and leave with him before dawn.
We agreed.
"Father, can I go too?" asked his son, aged thirteen.
"No, my boy, you must stay and help mother to manage the farm. It will
be a long while ere father returns."
"Oh, father! I'm too old to stay in the house, like an old woman.
Besides, I'm afraid they will make me prisoner."
"Do you think they catch children like him?" his mother asked anxiously.
"No, I don't think they are so cruel," I replied; "but one can never
tell."
"Well, they won't get the chance," said the plucky little fellow.
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