"Minute-guns! The British are coming!" shouted more than one hasty listener. "Every man to the forts! Our time's come!" Many were the conjectures and exclamations, but the first men to reach the water front sent back word that not a British sail was in sight. More than that was sent, however, for a hasty messenger ran on to the Avery house and knocked at the door. It was opened instantly by Vine Avery himself. "What is it?" he asked. "The _Noank_!" was half whispered. "A large prize ship is with her. Don't say a word about it to your mother." "Why not?" said Vine. "Well!" replied the messenger. "It's this way. There are minute-guns at the fort and both of the flags of those ships are at half mast. There are boats pulling from 'em to the shore now. Come on!" Vine stood still for a moment, hesitating. Then he turned and shouted back into the house:-- "Mother! The _Noank_! I'll go on down to the wharf. I'll let you know." "Lyme! Lyme is home again!" she said. "Vine--" She was darting forward without waiting for hood or wrap, but other ears besides Vine's had heard the messenger, and a firm hand was laid quietly upon Mrs. Avery's shoulder. "My beloved friend," said Rachel Tarns, "hold thee still for a moment. I have a word for thee." "What is it, Rachel?" "Rachel Tarns," broke in the excited voice of Mrs. Ten Eyck, "did he say the _Noank_ is here?" "Yea," replied Rachel, "and I say to both of you women that she hath her flag at half mast, and that from her deck hath some one gone home indeed. It may be that many of those who sailed away in her are not here to be welcomed. Be you both strong and very courageous, therefore, for whom the Lord loveth He chasteneth. I will go along with you, and so will He. Be ye brave this day!" So the strong, good, loving Quaker woman helped her friends, but hardly another word was spoken as they walked hurriedly along down the road toward the wharves. "I do not see him!" murmured Mrs. Avery. "He would surely be coming to meet me." "Anneke Ten Eyck," said Rachel, "be thou a glad woman! Look! Yonder comes thy son!" "And not Lyme?" gasped Mrs. Avery. "On crutches!" exclaimed Mrs. Ten Eyck, as she sprang forward. "I don't care! O Guert! Guert! Thank God!" If anything else, any other word than "Mother!" was uttered during the next few moments, nobody heard it. Mrs. Avery was trying to speak and could not, and it was Rachel Tarns who came to her assistance. "Guert," she said, "thee brave boy! Thee is wounded? It is well. We are glad thou art here. Tell Mary Avery of her husband--at once! Is he with thee and her, or is he with his Father in Heaven?" "Mother," whispered Guert, "I can't! You tell her. He was killed when we boarded the British privateer. I did all I could to save him. That's where I was cut down--" Low as had been his whispering, there was no need for his mother to tell Mrs. Avery.