“Where’s father?” asked Rose, a little anxiously.
“He’s giving the pretty horse a rub down,” answered the man; “now there’s a better room for young ladies than this old kitchen,” he continued. “Just come this way,” and he opened a door into a long dark passage, into which the girls followed him.
“Right in here,” said the man, opening a door at the further end of the hall, and holding it ajar for the girls to pass in.
“It’s all dark!” exclaimed Anne, who had been the first to enter. Rose was close behind her and as Rose crossed the threshold the heavy door swung to behind them. They heard bolts shot and then all was quiet.
Rose sprang against the door with all her strength, but instantly realized that it was useless to try to open it. “Father! Father!” she screamed, and Anne, hardly knowing what she said, called also “Father!”
“It’s dark as pitch,” whispered Anne, clutching at Rose’s dress; “there can’t be a window in this room, or we’d see light somewhere.”
The two girls clung together, not knowing what next might befall them.
“There may be some other door,” said Rose after they had screamed themselves hoarse. “We must not be frightened, Anne, for father is sure to look for us. Let’s go round the room and try and find a door. We can feel along the wall,” so the two girls began to grope their way from the door.
“These inside walls are brick!” exclaimed Rose, as her hands left the wooden framework of the door. “Oh, Anne, I do believe it is a sort of prison all walled inside.” Just then their feet struck against something hard and round which rolled before them with a little rumble of sound. Rose leaned down. “They’re cannon-balls,” she whispered. “Oh, Anne! There’s a whole pile of them. Don’t go another step; we’ll fall over them. I do believe the man is a pirate, or else a Tory.” For in those troublous times the Americans felt that a Tory was a dangerous enemy to their country.