open fire, with his family gathered round him, by his side our frail,
beautiful mother, with Baby Charlie on her knee, Martha and Julia, with
their sewing, and Will, back of mother's chair, tenderly smoothing the
hair from her brow, while he related spiritedly some new escapade of
Turk. Suddenly he checked his narrative, listened for a space, and
announced:

"There are some men riding on the road toward the house. We'd better be
ready for trouble."

Mother, equal to every emergency, hurriedly disposed her slender forces
for defense. Martha and Julia were directed to help father to bed; that
done, to repair to the unfurnished front room above stairs; Will was
instructed to call the hired man and Jane, who was almost as large and
quite as strong as the average man; and the three were armed and given
their cue. They were all handy with their weapons, but mother sought to
win by strategy, if possible. She bade the older girls don heavy boots,
and gave them further instructions. By this time the horsemen had
reached the gate. Their leader was the redoubtable Justice Sharpe. He
rode up to the door, and rapped with the but of his riding-whip. Mother
threw up the window overhead.

"Who's there? and what do you want?" she demanded.

"We want that old abolition husband of yours, and, dead or alive, we
mean to have him!"

"All right, Mr. Sharpe," was the steady answer. "I'll ask Colonel Lane
and his men to wait on you."