When the pack was opened, such a treasure-house of toys and things was displayed as surely never greeted any other eyes. The smaller children, including Ran, were not awaked, at their father’s request, though Mrs. Stafford wished to wake them to see him; but Bob was let into the secrets, except that he was not permitted to see a small package which bore his name. Mrs. Stafford and the Colonel were like two children themselves as they “tipped” about stuffing the long stockings with candy and toys of all kinds. The beautiful doll with flaxen hair, all arrayed in silk and lace, was seated, last of all, securely on top of Evelyn’s stocking, with her wardrobe just below her, where she would greet her young mistress when she should first open her eyes, and Charlie’s little blue uniform was pinned beside the gray one his mother had made, with his sword buckled around the waist. Bob was at last dismissed to his room, and the Colonel and Mrs. Stafford settled themselves before the fire, hand in hand, to talk over all the past. They had hardly started, when Bob rushed down the stairs and dashed into their room. “Papa! papa! the yard’s full of Yankees!” Both the Colonel and Mrs. Stafford sprang to their feet. “Through the back door!” cried Mrs. Stafford, seizing her husband. “He cannot get out that way--they are everywhere; I saw them from my window,” gasped Bob, just as the sound of trampling without became audible. “Oh! what will you do? Those clothes! If they catch you in those clothes!” began Mrs. Stafford, and then stopped, her face growing ashy pale. Bob also turned even whiter than he had been before. He remembered the young man who was found in citizen’s clothes in the autumn, and knew his dreadful fate. He burst out crying. “Oh, papa! will they hang you?” he sobbed. “I hope not, my son,” said the Colonel, gravely. “Certainly not, if I can prevent it.” A gleam of amusement stole into his eyes. “It’s an awkward fix, certainly,” he added. “You must conceal yourself,” cried Mrs. Stafford, as a number of footsteps sounded on the porch, and a thundering knock shook the door. “Come here.” She pulled him almost by main force into a closet or entry, and locked the door, just as the knocking was renewed. As the door was apparently about to be broken down, she went out into the hall. Her face was deadly white, and her lips were moving in prayer. “Who’s there?” she called, tremblingly, trying to gain time. “Open the door immediately, or it will be broken down,” replied a stern voice. She turned the great iron key in the heavy old brass lock, and a dozen men rushed into the hall. They all waited for one, a tall elderly man in a general’s fatigue uniform, and with a stern face and a grizzled beard. He addressed her. “Madam, I have come to take possession of this house as my headquarters.”