From the shore below came the hoarse roar of the tumbling water, to mingle with the wailing murmur of the wind; and now and then could be heard, clear-cut and eerie, the cry of a screech-owl from the woods.
As evening closed in, Joseph Devereux had ordered that no lights be shown about the house, lest they might attract the attention of any straggling soldiers; and he felt assured that this warning would be sufficient to intimidate the women into the greatest caution.
As for the men, they were all, even old Leet, out with the party watching at the "Black Hole,"—a bit of the sea shut in by a wood that bordered a wide sweep of meadow known as the "Raccoon Lot." It was here that the expected powder and arms were to be concealed by burying them in the earth, after being wrapped in oilskin coverings.
Johnnie Strings had gone alone to the Sachem's Cave, ready to give the signal.
The cave was somewhat farther down the shore, and a light shown above it could be plainly seen from the open sea.
The rising wind piped softly about the closed window where Mary Broughton was sitting in the starlight, absorbed in her own anxious thoughts, until aroused by something unusual in Dorothy's appearance and manner of moving about. The girl was at the farther side of the unlit room, and Mary asked her what she was doing.
A low laugh was the only answer; and upon the question being repeated, Dorothy came to the window, and Mary saw that she was clad in a complete suit of boy's clothes.
The unexpected transition was so startling that for a moment she could not speak, but sat looking at Dorothy in amazement.
"Oh, Dot," she then exclaimed, "you should take shame to yourself for doing such a thing!"
She could see, even in the gloom, the wilful toss of Dorothy's head, whose curls were let down and tied back with a ribbon, thus completing the masculine disguise.