Mrs. Connolly put her head out of the nursery door as he passed.
Her husband had told her of the position of affairs.

"Is that you, Mr. Hayes?" she whispered. "Is Jack hurt?"

"Jack is quite safe," answered the young American. "Are the children
very much frightened?"

"Not as long as I am with them," the old lady answered. "And
Dick--what of him?"

"Dick is all right too," replied Harold. He could not tell the
poor woman that her boy was out in the open country without a wall
between him and the ruffians.

Mrs. Connolly drew back into the nursery to take the post assigned
her--assuredly not the easiest on that terrible night--to listen
to the doubtful sounds from without, and to support, by her own
constancy, the courage of her children.

Harold found Miss Connolly in the hall where he had left her.

"What do you intend to do?" she asked.

"I was going to stand inside the door they have been hammering at,"
he answered, "in case they should break it in."

"Papa is there," said the girl; "perhaps you had better wait here.
They will try the front door next"