a different plan for their concealment.

The exiles set out on another long journey. They traveled only at
night, stopping and hiding in the daytime. The trail they
followed led them up the valley of the Connecticut River, beyond
Hartford and far into the north, until they came to what is now
the town of Hadley in Massachusetts. This was then one of the
farthest settlements in the wilderness and very remote and
lonely. Reverend John Russell, the minister there, gave them
shelter and took care of them. There was a cellar under part of
his house, and, by taking up some loose boards in the floor above
it, they could drop down quickly into it if visitors came
unexpectedly. In spite of the danger to himself, Mr. Russell kept
them safe in Hadley for twelve or fifteen years. A few friends
wrote to them and sent them money, but no one else in the world
outside knew what had become of them or whether or not they were
still alive.

There is a famous story about one of the regicides in Hadley.
Once, it says, in King Philip's War the Indians attacked the
place. They burst out of the woods and rushed upon the settlement
on a Sunday morning while every one was at church. Terror-stricken
and thrown into wild confusion by the sight of the yelling savages
the people of Hadley were helpless, when, all at once, an unknown
man, with whitening hair and strange garments, appeared in the
midst of them and took command. He rallied them and led them out
against the Indians and drove them back into the forest. "As
suddenly as he had come, the deliverer of Hadley disappeared."
No one ever saw him again, and the people said God must have sent
an angel to help them. Long afterward they learned that it was