"But he always came home safe and sound, mother."

"Nearly always. I mind the time once, though--bless us and save
us, what a gust!" she cried, as the wind came swooping down the
hill at them, swirling past them into the dark passage and puffing
the lights out in the big pantry beyond, where the maids began to
scream. "I hope he hasn't been blown off his horse."

"Not very likely that," said Sophie, "and Reuben the best horseman
in the county. But come in out of the gale, mother; the sleet cuts
like a knife too, and he will not come home any the sooner for your
letting the wind into the house. And--why, here he comes after
all. Hark!"

There was a rattling of horses' hoofs on the frost-bound road; it was
a long way in the distance, but it was the unmistakable signal of
a well-mounted traveller approaching--of more than one well-mounted
traveller, it became quickly apparent, the clattering was so loud
and incessant and manifold.

"Soldiers!" said Sophie. "What can bring them this way?"

"It's the farmers coming the same way as Reuben for protection's
sake these winter nights, child."

"Protection?"

"Haven't you heard of the highwaymen about, and how a single
traveller is never safe in these parts? Or a double one either--or--"