In the confusion of scraping chairs and opening doors, Richard got to his feet. The cold and weariness in his limbs were forgotten in anxiety for his mother. A-tiptoe he crossed the room in the shadow of the furniture and gained Joscelyn’s front window,—that window out of which he had seen her lean in her scarlet bodice the day he marched away so long ago. It was an easy thing to hide himself in the folds of the heavy curtains which had been drawn for the night; and thus concealed, to watch, through a crescent slit in the blind, the scene below, for the veranda was open with no roof to intervene.
It was full moon, and the figures in the street, twenty men-at-arms, were plainly visible. Three of these passed silently to the rear of his mother’s house, while the others drew up in line before the door. Then the leader smote the panels until they rang like a drum. Twice was the summons repeated ere a voice from an upper window demanded what might be the matter.
“Matter enough that I knock,” replied the man, so insolently that Richard’s blood took fire, for every word could be distinctly heard from his coign of vantage.
“Nay, we be but two lone women in this house, and we open not but to the proper authorities.”
“Well, and we be the authorities,” answered the man less rudely, for there was that in Mistress Clevering’s voice that brought him to his senses. “We have here an order from the commander-in-chief to search this house for a rebel spy. Open the door and read the writ for yourself.”
The window above was closed, and presently the click of the lock was heard, and then the door opened partially and Mistress Clevering, candle in hand, stood before them. Betty cowered behind like a frightened child.
“No one is here save my daughter and myself; to search the house were wasted time.” And in her heart, Joscelyn thanked Heaven she could speak thus truly; but the soldier said brusquely:—
“We have judged the matter differently; lead the way, and see to it that you open every door. We will put up with no deception.”
As they passed into the house, Joscelyn’s voice from over the way cried out shrilly, “Neglect not to search the closet by the attic chimney; ’tis just of a size to hold a man, and perchance contains him whom you seek.”