"Why, yes; do you know, I believe it would do me good. The weather
is delightful, and I've been so industrious that my sermon is as
good as finished."

They stepped out upon the threshold before the main entrance, which
faced the other buildings of the farm. There was this peculiarity
about the Parsonage, that the high-road, leading to the town,
passed right through the farm-yard. The Pastor did not at all like
this, for before everything he loved peace and quietness; and
although the district was sufficiently out-of-the-way, there was
always a certain amount of life on the road which led to the town.

But for Ansgarius the little traffic that came their way was an
inexhaustible source of excitement. While the father and daughter
stood on the threshold discussing whether they should follow the
road or go through the heather down to the beach, the young warrior
suddenly came rushing up the hill and into the yard. He was flushed
and out of breath, and Bucephalus was going at a hand gallop. Right
before the door he reined in his horse with a sudden jerk, so that
he made a deep gash in the sand; and swinging his sword, he
shouted, "They're coming, they're coming!"

"Who are coming?" asked Rebecca.

"Snorting black chargers and three war chariots full of men-at-arms."

"Rubbish, my boy!" said his father, sternly.

"Three phaetons are coming with townspeople in them," said