"They are apt to know naught if we do not use it, Sally," said Peggy with some excitement, proceeding to tear the leaves into squares. Presently she paused, powder-horn in hand. "How much powder do I put in, Friend Nurse?" she asked. While Nurse Johnson was showing the proper amount the enemy's fire slackened suddenly. Farmer Ashley and Fairfax exchanged apprehensive glances. Were they weary, or was their stock of cartridges getting low? Then the fire ceased altogether, and as the smoke lifted Fairfax stole a look through the opening in a shutter. He turned a troubled face toward them after a moment's survey. "There's nothing to be seen," he said. "Surely they have not gone away?" At this juncture a call came from outside: "Tom Ashley!" "Well? What's wanted?" cried the farmer. "We want that nephew of yours, and we're going to have him." "Come and get him, then," growled Thomas Ashley. "We're going to, Tom. We've burned your barn, and taken your horses. Now unless you let us have that captain we'll burn the house right over your head. Will you surrender Captain Johnson?" "No," came from the farmer in a roar. "What manner of man do you think I am that I'd let a pack of Tory scoundrels have my nephew?" "The woods won't be pleasant camping for your women-folks at this time of the year, Tom," came in threatening accents. "No," shouted the farmer. "You can't have him." "Uncle, I'd better go out to them," said Fairfax. "If they will promise to let the rest of you alone, and not burn the house, I'll----" "You'll do nothing of the sort, nevvy," spoke Tom Ashley gruffly. "If they spare the house now 'twill be only that they may burn it later. You can't depend upon the word of a Tory. We will stay here as long as we can, then make a dash for the woods. Thanks to Peggy we have plenty of cartridges now." "Something is burning," cried Sally suddenly, sniffing the air. A peculiar odor came through the loopholes of the windows, and the wind whirled a puff of smoke into the room. The faces of the girls blanched, and they looked at each other fearfully. The entire party seemed benumbed for the moment, then Fairfax sprang to the door of the lean-to. "I'm going out to them," he announced determinedly. "You shan't burn here like rats in a trap." "Don't go, son," screamed his mother. And, "Don't go, Friend Fairfax," came from the girls. "'Tis death out there." "And death to all within if I stay," he answered, opening the door resolutely. A burst of flame from the lean-to forced him to recoil, and before he could recover himself his uncle had closed the door quickly. "You young idiot," he growled, "stay where you are. 'Twould be a useless sacrifice. You'll do more good by staying here, and helping to cover the retreat of the women should we have to take to the woods."