CHAPTER VII
Before the house, on a long-limbed, lean horse, whose panting flanks and hanging head showed that he had just completed a long and rapid trip, a young man had stopped. On Catherine's appearance he forgot to shut the large mouth which he had opened in calling. His long, flaxen hair hung down in strands from under his large, three-cornered hat upon his narrow shoulders. The sweat poured from his freckled, saturated, long face, and his dull, water-blue eyes had a frightened look as Catherine, aghast, called out:
"For God's sake, what has happened?"
"Where is he?" stammered he on the horse, and turned his eyes in every direction.
"You are looking for Lambert Sternberg?" asked Catherine.
The rider bowed.
"I will call him. Dismount and rest yourself a moment. I will soon be back," said Catherine.
The rider did as the young girl had told him, climbed in a tired way out of the high saddle, and tied his horse to the iron ring. As Catherine turned to go, Lambert came around the house. He was leading Hans by the halter, and called out:
"God bless you, Adam Bellinger! What brings you here?"
"The French are here!" replied Adam.