As he stepped down upon the stone flags of the hall, the wavering light from the flaring torches in the kitchen fell upon what was now the front-door of the house; he took a step towards it, thinking that he might escape by this way. But it was fastened by a heavy padlock, so that egress in this direction was impossible. There was nothing to be done but to remain in concealment, and to hope for a chance of escape when the occupants of the house should have dispersed and gone to rest. For the present he was safe; and although he dared not advance far enough to see what was going on, his ears kept him pretty well informed of the course affairs were taking. In the first place, he recognized among the newcomers three voices: those of Ben the Blast, of Long Jack, and of Ann Price, who, as he judged by the words she uttered and those addressed to her, must have been herself with the raiders that night. They were jubilant over the skill with which they had evaded the king’s men, who, it seemed, had not had a chance of coming up with them. “’Twas all owing to the luck of the capt’n’s being away!” said Ann’s voice, in a decisive tone. “That fellow’s the hardest nut we have to crack. The soldiers don’t count!” she added contemptuously. “Ay, but the question is, where was the capt’n, damn ’un!” retorted Ben the Blast, ferociously. “If so be you say you invited him hither, maybe he’s on’s way now, and that’s how we missed ’un. Hey, Robin, have you seen any strangers about?” Robin answered first with a characteristic curse. “If so be as I had seen him,” said he savagely, “there’d be naught for to trouble your head about him no more!” “Maybe, he’s gone up to the Parsonage!” suggested Tom, who had entered the kitchen from the porch during Ben’s speech. “Folk’s say he allus has an eye to the Parsonage when he goes by, spying to see if Mistress Joan’s about.” “He’ll get no good by doing that!” cried Ann, sharply. “Miss Joan’ll never tell aught to harm us, for my mother’s sake; ’twas she came herself to tell us, t’other day, that the red-coats were on their way hither.” “Ay,” said Tom, “but ’tis not for information ’gainst us the lieutenant hangs about the Parsonage. ’Tis for Miss Joan’s bright eyes, I’m thinking.” “Pshaw!” said Ann, contemptuously. “She’s a handsome, winsome lady,” went on Tom, “and all the gentlemen be raving mad about her shape and her fine eyes. So ’tis no such wonder if he’s struck, too.” “Miss Joan’s well enough,” returned Ann, though in a rather grudging tone; “but I think the lieutenant’s got something better to do than run after a lass just now. Leastways, if he hasn’t, we can find him something!” she added with acerbity. “Ho, ho, ho! That can we!” roared Ben the Blast, laughing lustily. In the midst of his mirth, in which the other men joined, there was an interruption. Some one ran in panting, and apparently in sufficient disorder to warrant a feeling of alarm among the rest.