She had heard all and was hurrying on her clothes with trembling fingers, the tears rolling down her cheeks. "O Wawillaway, Wawillaway, you have died for me!" she sobbed. "O that cruel, cruel wretch! worse than the wild beast that shares his name!" Sounds of commotion came from below, the little ones crying, Clare calling in frightened tones, "Nell, Nell, do come help with the children, if you can! I shall never get them dressed." The servants added their terrified clamor, as they rushed hither and thither in obedience to the orders of master or mistress, collecting such articles of value or necessity as could be thought of and found in the hurry and alarm of the moment. The major alone preserved his calmness and presence of mind, and thus was able to control and direct the others. At Clare's call Nell dashed away her tears, snatched up hat and shawl and ran down-stairs. "Dressed!" said Clare. "You've been very quick. Now help with the children. They're too frightened or too sleepy to get into their clothes, and Maria's so scared she's of no use whatever." "Calm yourselves, wife and sister," said the major, coming from an adjoining room. "We must put our trust in God, who we know will not suffer any real evil to befall His people; and the Indians can hardly reach the town under an hour or two at the very earliest." His words and the quiet composure with which they were uttered had a soothing effect upon the ladies, calming their agitation and reviving their courage. In a very short time the whole family were in the street rapidly winding their way to Mr. Ferguson's, toward which terrified women and children were now hurrying from every quarter. The town was thoroughly awake; lights gleamed in all the houses, and every possible preparation was being made to receive and repel the expected attack. Sentinels were posted, and an old man who had served as drummer in the Revolutionary war was appointed to give the signal, the roll of the drum, should the enemy be seen approaching. As the major and his family neared the place of rendezvous, they fell in with Captain Bernard and Lyttleton, who followed them into the house inquiring if there were anything they could do to make the ladies more comfortable. As the light of a candle burning in the hall fell on Nell's face, Lyttleton saw the traces of tears on her cheeks and bright drops still shining in her eyes. "Do not be too greatly alarmed; doubtless we shall succeed in keeping the savages at bay," he whispered protectingly. "I have a brace of pistols here, and you may rest assured will make your safety my special charge." "I am not afraid," she said, drawing herself up slightly, while the color deepened on her cheek--"no, I believe I am; but it is not that that causes my tears;" and they burst forth afresh as she spoke. "What then?" he asked in surprise. "I weep for my friend, my poor murdered friend, lying stiff and stark yonder in the woods," and the tears fell like rain.