"If your men remain quiet, Mrs. Schell, you need fear neither rebel,
savage, nor Tory," said Dorothy. "The patroon will see that you have
ample protection."
Mrs. Schell gave her a helpless glance. "Did you not know that the
district scout-call has gone out?" she asked.
"Yes; but if the tenants of Sir Lupus obey it they do so at their
peril," replied Dorothy, gravely. "The militia scouts of this district
must not act hastily. Your husband would be mad to answer a call and
leave you here alone."
"What would you have him do?" muttered the woman.
"Do?" repeated Dorothy. "He can do one thing or the other--join his
regiment and take his family to the district fort, or stay at home and
care for you and the farm. These alarms are all wrong--your men are
either soldiers or farmers; they cannot be both unless they live close
enough to the forts. Tell Mr. Schell that Francy McCraw and his riders
are in the forest, and that the Brandt-Meester of Balston saw a Mohawk
smoke-signal on the mountain behind Mayfield."
The woman folded her bony arms in her apron, cast one tragic glance at
her children, then faced us again, hollow-eyed but undaunted.
"My man is with Stoner's scout," she said, with dull pride.
"Then you must go to the block-house," began Dorothy, but the woman
pointed to the fields, shaking her head.
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