All at once she thought of the gate. "How stupid!" she said to herself. "Why didn't I think of that before?" It was fastened back against the front of the house, but in a moment she had unhooked it and swung it around, until it stretched completely across the road. There was only a latch on the gate, but going in the house she brought out of one place a padlock, and from another a chain, with which she fastened it so securely that no ordinary strength could force it open. "They can't get through that," she said to herself; "and there isn't any way of getting around it." Then she went in the house, locked and bolted the door, rolled a bureau up against it, fastened all the windows, pulled down the shades, and waited in the dark for the sound of wheels.
It was not long before they came, but to Jennie every minute seemed an hour, while every rustling leaf outside sounded like a man's stealthy tread. When at last she heard them coming, far up the road, her heart stood still. Nearer and nearer they came. Would they not see the gate? she wondered. The horse still kept on; and instantly there was a sudden exclamation outside, a crash as though something had come into collision with the gate, the sound of splintering wood, and the noise of a plunging horse. Jennie did not venture to move; she dared not go to the window, but sat in the middle of the room, shaking with fear, and listening anxiously for what might happen next. Presently steps sounded on the planks outside, and in a moment there was a rap on the door.
Jennie remained perfectly quiet, though her heart beat so loud that she thought they must hear it outside. In a moment the knocking ceased.
"Folks asleep," she could hear one of the men say.
"Asleep, or dead, or run away," the other one growled.
"Shall we try the window?"
Jennie trembled all over, but the sash held firm.
"Oh, come on!" exclaimed his companion. "Don't let's waste time here; we can splice the shafts with the halter."
They moved off again, and Jennie breathed more freely. If the shafts were broken, it would be a work of some minutes to mend them, and the pursuing party might yet arrive in time. Mr. Allen, who Jennie knew to be the president of the Leicester Bank, had the fastest horses in the county, and ought to be able to make up at least ten minutes in ten miles. For a while there was quiet outside. The men were evidently working at the shafts, and only the stamping of the horse's feet gave any signs of life. Jennie began to get nervous, and to listen more intently for the pursuers' approach. By this time they could not be far off. Finally, unable to sit still any longer, she crept upstairs, and sitting down on the floor by the open window of the attic, ventured to look out. The white horse was quite distinctly visible as it stood by the gate, but the men, bending over the wagon, were hardly more than an outline. Presently they seemed to have finished, and backing the horse around, proceeded to hitch him in the shafts. Would the others never come? The gate was not yet opened, but Jennie began to fear that burglars would not find that a serious difficulty. Suddenly through the woods came the sound of horses' hoofs galloping as if for life. Did the men hear it too?
Apparently they did.