"No," said the woman eagerly. "Oh, what times these are! My husband has been in the army more than a year, and the end hasn't come yet. What will become of us? What shall we do? Tom," she added suddenly, "what was Fenton going to do with him if he caught him?"
"Take him and send him to New York. You know there's a reward for every prisoner taken. But he hasn't got him yet."
"No, that's so; and what's more he won't either, if it can be prevented. Have you told Benzeor about it? Hark! There's some one at the door now!"
The woman was not mistaken, for a low tapping on the kitchen door could be distinctly heard. For a moment neither spoke, but they could not conceal their fears from each other. Just then a stronger gust of wind drove the rain with added force against the windows. The sound of the storm seemed to increase the fear of those within the house. Perhaps Fenton himself had even then come; or, as was more probable, Tom thought, his own departure had been discovered, and Benzeor had come for him. As between the two, Tom decidedly preferred to meet Fenton at that time.
Again the low rapping was heard, and Tom knew that some response must be made. "I'll open the door. Maybe it's Little Peter come back," he whispered.
"No, it isn't Peter. He wouldn't come in that way."
"I'll find out who it is," replied Tom more resolutely, although his heart was oppressed by a great fear. His hands were trembling, and he almost expected that the moment he drew back the bars a rush against the door would be made.
"You stand ready to push against the door," he said as he grasped the bar. Slowly he drew it back, and standing away from the slight opening called out, "Who's there?"
No reply was heard, and the wind which swept through the open space quickly extinguished the candle, leaving them both in total darkness. For a moment Tom thought they were being attacked, and he instantly slammed the door back, and shot the bar into its place.
The rapping upon the door was quickly repeated, and the voice of some one outside could be heard. "Don't light the candle again," whispered Tom. "It'll let them see what's inside here. Who's out there?" he called in louder tones. "Who's there? You'll have to tell who you are, or we shan't let you in. Who is it?"