Thump, thump, thump!—loud knocking at the door.
"My, it's visitors! Who can it be?" She set down her pail and basket. "I'll act jest as if I had a right here, anyhow!"
She was hesitating, when the string was pulled, and two strangers, stout, square built, with foreign looking faces, carrying muskets, and dressed in confederate uniform, entered.
"Mrs. Stackridge?" said they, in a heavy Teutonic accent.
"Ye—ye—yes—" stammered the widow, trying to hide the guilty basket and pail behind her skirts. "What do you want of Mis' Stackridge?"
One of the strangers said to the other, in German, indicating the plunder,—
"This is the woman. She is getting provisions ready to send to her husband in the mountains."
"Let us see what there is good to eat," said the other.
Mrs. Sprowl, although understanding no word that was spoken, perceived that the borrowed property formed the theme of their remarks.
"Have some?" she hastened to say, with extreme politeness, as the Germans approached the provisions.