quarter; now they shall have nothing. It will teach them wisdom
another time. Get thee safe home, Phineas, my son; Jael, go thou
likewise."

But neither went. John held me back as I was following my father.

"He will do it, Phineas, and I suppose he must. Please God, I'll
take care no harm touches him--but you go home."

That was not to be thought of. Fortunately, the time was too brief
for argument, so the discussion soon ended. He followed my father
and I followed him. For Jael, she disappeared.

There was a private path from the tan-yard to the mill, along the
river-side; by this we went, in silence. When we reached the spot it
was deserted; but further down the river we heard a scuffling, and
saw a number of men breaking down our garden wall.

"They think he is gone home," whispered John; "we'll get in here the
safer. Quick, Phineas."

We crossed the little bridge; John took a key out of his pocket, and
let us into the mill by a small door--the only entrance, and that was
barred and trebly barred within. It had good need to be in such
times.

The mill was a queer, musty, silent place, especially the machinery
room, the sole flooring of which was the dark, dangerous stream. We
stood there a good while--it was the safest place, having no windows.
Then we followed my father to the top story, where he kept his bags