man defiant, doing his utmost for the defense of his castle.

The fingers that lay beneath the book tingled with desire to box
the old man's ears, for the policy he was pursuing would be fatal
to the treasure in garret and in well; but she was forced to
silence and inactivity.

As the King's troops, Major Pitcairn at their head, reached the
open door and saw the old lady, they paused. What could they do
but look, for a moment, at the unexpected sight that met their
view; a placid old lady in black silk and dotted muslin, with all
the sweet solemnity of morning devotion hovering about the tidy
apartment and seeming to centre at the round stand by which she
sat, this pretty woman, with pink and white face surmounted with
fleecy little curls and crinkles and wisps of floating whiteness,
who looked up to meet their gaze with such innocent
prayer-suffused eyes.

"Good morning, Mother," said Major Pitcairn, raising his hat.

"Good morning, gentlemen and soldiers," returned Martha Moulton.
"You will pardon my not meeting you at the door, when you see
that I was occupied in rendering service to the Lord of all." She
reverently closed the book, laid it on the table, and arose, with
a stately bearing, to demand their wishes.

"We're hungry, good woman," spoke the commander, "and your hearth
is the only hospitable one we've seen since we left Boston. With
your good leave I'll take a bit of this, and he stooped to lift
up the Johnny-cake that had been all this while on the hearth.