"Thieves, cutthroats, and murderers--eight of us--knights of the
road, gentlemen of the highway, and not to be trifled with when
half starved and hard driven," cried the hoarse man. "There, will
that satisfy you, wench? Will you let us in or not? It's easy enough
for us to smash in the windows and get in that way, isn't it?"

Yes, it was very easy.

"Wait five minutes, please," said Sophie.

She went back to the parlour and to the two shivering women and the
crowd of maids, who had crept from the dairy to the farm parlour,
having greater faith in numbers now.

"They had better come in, aunt, especially as we are quite helpless
to keep them out. I could fire that gun," Sophie said, pointing to
an unwieldy old blunderbuss slung by straps to the ceiling, " and
I know it's loaded. But I'm afraid it wouldn't be of much use."

"It might make them angry," said Mrs. Pemberthy.

"It would only kill one at the best," remarked Mrs. Tarne, with a
heavy sigh.

"And the rest of the men would kill us, the brutes," said Mrs.
Pemberthy. "Yes, they'd better come in."

"Lord have mercy upon us," said Mrs. Tarne.

"There's no help for it," said Mrs. Pemberthy. "Even Reuben would