"Don't be alarmed, miss; American soldiers don't harm ladies," said the voice from the farther end of the veranda.
"No, I am not at all alarmed," she returned with a look of amusement directed first at Cousin Ronald, then at Max; "not in the least afraid of them."
The music continued for a few minutes, all listening silently to it, then as the last strain died away a voice spoke in tones apparently trembling with affright, "Oh, please somebody hide me! hide me quick! quick! before those troops get here. I'm falsely accused and who knows but they may shoot me down on sight?"
The speaker was not visible, but from the sounds seemed to be on the lawn and very near at hand.
"Oh, run round the house and get the servants to hide you in the kitchen or one of the cellars," cried Ned, not quite able, in the excitement of the moment, to realize that there was not a stranger there who might be really in sore peril.
"Thanks!" returned the voice, and a sound as of some one running swiftly in the prescribed direction accompanied and followed the word.
Then the tramp, tramp, as of soldiers on the march, and the music of the drum and fife seemed to draw nearer and nearer.
"Why, it's real, isn't it?" exclaimed one of the children, jumping up and trying to get a nearer view of the approaching troop.
"Oh, don't be afraid," laughed Grace; "I'm sure they won't hurt us or that poor, frightened man either."
"No," chuckled Ned. "If he went to the kitchen, as I told him to, he'll have plenty of time to hide before they can get here."