“They are apt to know naught if we do not use it, Sally,” said Peggy with some excitement, proceeding to tear the leaves into squares. Presently she paused, powder-horn in hand. “How much powder do I put in, Friend Nurse?” she asked.
While Nurse Johnson was showing the proper amount the enemy’s fire slackened suddenly. Farmer Ashley and Fairfax exchanged apprehensive glances. Were they weary, or was their stock of cartridges getting low? Then the fire ceased altogether, and as the smoke lifted Fairfax stole a look through the opening in a shutter. He turned a troubled face toward them after a moment’s survey.
“There’s nothing to be seen,” he said. “Surely they have not gone away?”
At this juncture a call came from outside:
“Tom Ashley!”
“Well? What’s wanted?” cried the farmer.
“We want that nephew of yours, and we’re going to have him.”
“Come and get him, then,” growled Thomas Ashley.
“We’re going to, Tom. We’ve burned your barn, and taken your horses. Now unless you let us have that captain we’ll burn the house right over your head. Will you surrender Captain Johnson?”