She closed the trap and pulled the rug to, even as the snorting of hard-driven animals mingled with men's voices and the sounds of dismounting. Heavy boots rattled the front steps, followed by a thumping fist upon the door. "Open," came a heavy voice. "In the name of the King, and on peril of your life. Open!" Anne Scott looked quickly about her for any tell-tale signs of company. There were none, and gratefully she recalled the other precautions she had taken: both bedrooms had been straightened, the dishes cleaned and put away. But for Mary's cloak, which she could pass as her own, the two still wore all the clothing they had brought. Mastering her fright as best she could, fiercely determined to protect her young, she went to the door. . .and opened it. But for all her resolve, her eyes were unprepared for the spectacle which greeted them. The Lord Henry Purceville himself stood before her. And beyond his hulking form, she saw the bodies of two men slung across spare horses, one of which, dressed in ill-fitting clothes, pale and stained with earth..... It was only by supreme exertion that she kept herself from swooning. There were twenty riders at least, all tainted with the smell of smoke. "Where is she?" bellowed Lord Purceville, pushing her aside with such force that she really did stagger. Then to her bewilderment his son, who had followed him in, caught her up, and in the moment it took to steady her, whispered in her ear: "Tell him nothing. I'll do what I can to protect you." The older man whirled angrily. "I tell you I want her. Ballard! Tear the place apart. Stubb! Take the rest of the men and search the surrounding countryside. Meet me back at the barracks with your report; and if you value your hide, don't come back empty!" With this all but two of the men---the one called Ballard, and another he detained by seizing his collar and shoving him forward---rode off. These entered quickly, and began going through the rooms, opening drawers and overturning furniture. Of the two only Ballard, a large, swarthy man whose hands and face were darkened with soot, seemed to enjoy the work. The other, a lad of sixteen or thereabouts, only followed with a scared look, doing what his Lieutenant commanded. As for Lord Purceville, he sat himself in the chair that Mary had occupied, and stared at the woman icily, beckoning (ordering) his son to sit across from him. The widow Scott could only look back at him in dismay, and try not to notice his thick black boots, resting at the very edge of the carpet. He was heavier, and grayer than she remembered, those many long years ago. But her first impression of him then---that of a bull about to charge---still held true. He was a big man, both taller and more thickly muscled than his son. Their faces were much alike, except that the father's was fuller: more rudely carved, more deeply lined, more savage.