The trees which shaded the road hid horse and rider, and leaving the little mare dancing on the barn floor, Hadley ran hastily up the ladder to the loft, and then by a second ladder reached the little cupola, or ventilator, which Master Benson had built atop his barn. From this point of vantage all the roads converging near the Three Oaks Inn could be traced for several miles. Behind the cluster of tall trees which gave the inn its name, a road branched off toward the Mills. In a minute or less the watcher saw a horseman dash along this road amid a cloud of dust. “He’s bound for the Mills--and in a wonderful hurry. What was it Lafe Holdness told us when he was along here the other day? Something about a troop of British horse being at the Mills, I’ll be bound.” Then he turned toward the east and looked carefully along the brown road on which any person coming from the way of New York would naturally travel. “Well, there’s nobody in sight yet. If that fellow means mischief--Ah! but it’s six miles to the Mills and if he continues to ride like that on this hot day the horse will be winded long before he gets there.” He went down the ladders, however, with anxious face, and during the ensuing hour made many trips to the wide gateway which opened upon the dusty road. There was not a sign of life, however, in either direction. Meanwhile the tavern awakened to its ordinary life and bustle. The last rays of the sun slanted over the mountain tops and the shadows crept farther and farther across the meadows. The old collie arose and stretched himself lazily, while the tinkle of sheep bells and the heavier jangle which betrayed the approach of the cattle cut the warm air sharply. Even a breeze arose and curled the road dust in little spirals and rustled the oak leaves. Dusk was approaching to relieve panting nature. Jonas awoke with a start and came out upon the tavern porch to stretch himself. He saw Hadley standing by the gateway and asked: “Got the mare saddled, Had?” “Yes, sir. She’s been standing on the barn floor for an hour. One of the other horses has gone out, sir.” “Heh? How’s that?” He tiptoed softly to the end of the porch so as to be close above the boy. “Who’s been here?” he asked. “Nobody. But the colonel’s man took one of those bays and started for the Mills an hour ago.” “I d’know as I like the sound of that,” muttered Jonas. “I wish these folks warn’t here--that I do. They aint meanin’ no good--” “Hush!” whispered Hadley, warningly. From the wide tavern door there suddenly appeared the British colonel’s daughter. She was indeed a pretty girl and her smile was infectious. Even Jonas’ face cleared at sight of her and he hastened, as well as a man of his portliness could, to set a chair for her. “It is very beautiful here,” Miss Lillian said, “and so peaceful. I got so tired in New York seeing soldiers everywhere and hearing about war. It doesn’t seem as though anything ever happened here.”