He gave her his arm and looked back with smiling eyes on the terrified guests.
“Dast that boy, he knows!” cried Liddy in almost profane excitement. “Hold up your hands. The house is going to fall.”
“Be quiet, Liddy,” said the farmer. “All be quiet now. We can not tell what is before us. Be still. It seems as though I can hear the steps of Providence. Something awaits us. I can feel it in my bones.”
The guests arose, and all stood silent.
Mis’ Overfield stopped before the clock door.
“Annie’s hand used to wind the clock,” she said. “Oh, what would I give to hear her wind the clock once more! I would be willing to lie down and give up all to know that she was alive. Liddy’s words do so chill me.”
She knocked on the clock door.
“Mother!”
The voice was the music-like tone of old. “Mother, you will forgive me if I did marry a Tory, for Annie is Annie—always Annie!”
The guests stood with intent faces.