Millicent quickly placed her sewing on the packet and swept it into her lap before she listened to what the excited little girls had to say.
'See, sister,' cried Alison, holding out her apron to show six little fluffy chickens, 'what my speckled hen has hatched, all unknown to any one. We do not know where to put them. Will you come out and choose a place for them?'
'Nay, children, that I cannot do, for I promised Aunt Deborah to stay here and sew; but I can show you a place from the window. The old dog-kennel yonder would be a good house for the hen and her brood, and you can watch for Aunt Deborah and let her see them when she returns. Run away now, like good little maidens; the chicks will soon grow cold without their mother, and I have this long seam to stitch before supper.'
The children ran off well pleased, and Millicent was left alone, feeling safe from interruption, for she knew she would be warned of Aunt Deborah's approach by their excited voices. When the door closed behind them, she went softly to it and drew the bolt. Then she took up the mysterious little parcel, and was greatly surprised to find it was a little Testament which belonged to her brother Antony, which he always carried in his pocket. To make sure she opened it, and there on the fly-leaf was his name, 'Antony, from Millicent,' and beneath was written as if in haste: 'I send this by the hand of Ralph de Foulkes; help him as he helped me.'
"'See what my speckled hen has hatched.'"