Part 21 (1/2)

”Are you going to give us up?” asked Watson.

”I am a loyal Southerner,” returned the minister, very slowly, ”and I know what my duty is. Why should I s.h.i.+eld you?”

Watson turned to George.

”It was bound to come,” he said. ”It might as well be to-night as to-morrow, or the next day.” The pursuers were almost at the door.

”All right,” said George, pluckily.

”Father,” said Miss Cynthia, ”the men are at the door! Shall I let them in?”

Mrs. Buckley turned away her head, for there were tears in her eyes.

CHAPTER IX

IN GREATEST PERIL

”Wait!” commanded the minister. There was a new look, one of decision, upon his face. ”Heaven forgive me,” he said, ”if I am not doing right--but I cannot send a man to the gallows!”

He took a step towards the door leading to the entry.

”Not a word, Cynthia,” he ordered. He opened a large closet, filled with groceries and preserving jars, quickly pushed George and Watson into it, and closed the door.

”Now, Rachel,” he said, ”let the men in.” The girl departed. Within the s.p.a.ce of a minute nearly a dozen neighbors, all of them carrying muskets, trooped into the kitchen. They were st.u.r.dy planters, and they looked wet and out of humor.

”Well, Dominie,” exclaimed one of them, walking up to the fire and warming his hands, ”you can thank your stars you're not out a mean night like this. Have you heard about the big engine steal?”

”Friend Jason has written me about it,” replied Mr. Buckley.

”Why, it was the most daring thing I ever heard tell on,” cried another of the party. ”A lot of Yankees actually seized Fuller's train when he was eating his breakfast at Big Shanty, and ran it almost to Chattanooga. They had pluck, that's certain!”

”We're not here to praise their pluck,” interrupted another man. ”We are here to find out if any of 'em have been seen around your place. We've been scouring the country for two hours, but there's no trace of any of 'em so far--not even of the man with the boy and the dog, as Jason's son said he saw.”

”Why didn't Jason's son tackle the fellows?” asked a voice.

”Pooh,” said the man at the fireplace; ”Jason's son ain't no 'count. All he's fit for is to dance with the girls. It's well our army doesn't depend on such milksops as him. He would run away from a mosquito--and cry about it afterwards!”

”You haven't seen any one suspicious about here, have you, parson?” asked a farmer.

The minister hesitated. He had never told a deliberate falsehood in his life. Was he to begin now?

”Seen no suspicious characters?” echoed the man at the fireplace. ”No boy with a dog?”

The tongue of the good clergyman seemed to cleave to the roof of his mouth. He could see the eagle glance of Miss Cynthia fixed upon him. Just then Waggie, who had been sniffing at the closet door, returned to the fireplace.

”Why, since when have you started to keep dogs, parson?” asked the last speaker.

The minister had an inspiration.