Anne and Rose Freeman stood at the gate all ready to enter the comfortable chaise with its broad seat and big wheels. The big brown horse was apparently eager to start, but black Josephus held him firmly until the girls and Mr. Freeman were seated, and then handed the reins to Mr. Freeman.

“Good-bye, good-bye,” called the girls, leaning out beyond the hood of the chaise to wave to Aunt Hetty and Captain Freeman and Uncle Enos, who had stayed to see the travelers start on the ride to Boston.

“A horse is useful,” remarked Uncle Enos, thoughtfully, as he watched them drive away, “but there’s not one in Province Town settlement as yet. We have little need of one, with so many good boats.”

The summer morning was clear and bright, and not too warm. They had made an early start, and the heavy dew still lingered on the trees and flowers.

“How far shall we go to-day, father?” asked Rose.

“We will pass the night in Sandwich, if all goes well,” replied Mr. Freeman. “Your aunt has put us up a fine luncheon, and we will give Lady a rest toward noon and enjoy it.”

The sandy roads made it rather slow traveling, but Anne was as happy as a bird. They got many glimpses of the sea, and now and then some wild creature would run across the road, or peer at them from the shelter of the woods. Once or twice a partridge, with her brood of little ones, fled before them, and there was a great deal for them to see and enjoy. Anne felt very happy to know that Aunt Martha and Uncle Enos had forgiven her for running away, and that they were glad for her to go to Boston. She did not cherish any ill-will against Amanda, and thought herself a very fortunate little girl to be sitting beside Rose Freeman and riding along the pleasant road in such a grand chaise.

Mr. Freeman told them that there was something very wonderful to be seen in Suet, a little village that they would pass through on their way to Sandwich. “Captain Sears is an old friend of mine,” said Mr. Freeman, “and we will make him a call and he will be glad to show us how salt is made.”

“Can he make salt?” questioned Anne.

“Yes, and a good thing for the colony it is; for salt is hard to get, with English frigates taking all the cargoes afloat,” answered Mr. Freeman; “and Cape Cod is the very place to make it, for there is plenty of salt water.” Then he told them how Captain Sears had first made long shallow troughs and filled them with the sea-water, and the sun dried up the water, leaving the salt in the bottom of the vats. “And now,” continued Mr. Freeman, “I hear he has had big kettles made, and with huge fires under them boils the water away and gets good salt in that fashion. We’ll stop and have a look, if time allows.”

Just before noon the sky began to grow dark, and there was a distant rumble of thunder. They were driving through a lonely stretch of country; there was no house in sight, and Mr. Freeman began to watch the sky with anxious eyes. He knew that, on the bare sandy plain over which they were now traveling, the wind would sweep with great force, sufficient perhaps to overturn the chaise. Rose and Anne grew very quiet as they heard the thunder and watched the threatening sky.

“We’ll soon reach the Yarmouth woods,” said Mr. Freeman encouragingly, “and if the storm comes may be able to find some sort of shelter, but I fear it will prevent our reaching the salt works.”

Rose and Anne both thought to themselves that troughs and kettles filled with salt water would not be very much of a sight, and were very glad when the sandy plain was behind them and they were once more in the shelter of the woods, which broke the force of the wind. It was now raining in torrents.

“One good thing about this is that the rain will beat the sand down and make the traveling better,” said Mr. Freeman.

The road was a mere lane, and they all began to feel a little uncomfortable and discouraged as the thunder deepened and came peal after peal, followed by shooting darts of lightning. The big horse was going at a good pace, but, all at once, Lady made a quick turn, and before Mr. Freeman could stop her had swung into an even more narrow track, half hidden by underbrush from the main road. In a few moments they saw a long low shingled house nearly hidden by closely growing trees.

“Well done, Lady!” exclaimed Mr. Freeman laughingly, as Lady stopped directly in front of the door.

Mr. Freeman handed the reins to Rose and sprang out, and rapped on the door, but no answer came.

“I don’t believe there is any one here,” he declared. “Stay in the chaise a moment, and I’ll find out.” As he spoke he gave the door a little push when, much to his surprise, it swung open and Mr. Freeman found himself face to face with a tall, black-bearded man who regarded him with a scowling countenance.

“What do you want?” he asked gruffly.

At that moment a peal of thunder heavier than any preceding it made Rose and Anne shrink more closely together in the corner of the chaise. “He looks like a pirate,” whispered Rose fearfully.

“We want shelter until this storm is over,” Mr. Freeman replied. “May I drive my horse into that shed?”

The man grunted an unwilling assent, and Mr. Freeman sprang back into the chaise and drove Lady under a rough shelter in the rear of the house.

“Don’t go in the house, will you, father?” whispered Rose; for the man had opened a back door leading into the shed and was regarding his undesired guests with suspicious eyes.

“How did you happen to come here?” he asked gruffly. “This road don’t lead nowheres.”

“My horse turned in from the main road very suddenly,” explained Mr. Freeman. “We had no plan except to get on to Sandwich as fast as possible.”

“Going far?” questioned the man.

“We are on our way to Boston,” answered Mr. Freeman.

“Guess the English are going to give the Yankees a lesson even if they couldn’t hold Boston!” said the man with a smile, as if he would be glad to know his words would come true.

“I think not, sir,” answered Mr. Freeman sharply; “and a Cape Cod man ought to be the last to say such a thing.”

“You’re not a Tory, then?” exclaimed the man eagerly. “Get right out of that chaise and come in. These your girls? Let me help you out, missy,” and he came toward the carriage.

“Get out, Anne,” said Mr. Freeman in a low tone, and in a moment the two girls were following the black-bearded man into a low dark kitchen.

“You folks looked so dressed up I thought like as not you were Tories,” declared the man, as if wishing to explain his rude reception. “Now take seats, and I’ll put your horse where it can have a bit of fodder.”

Mr. Freeman followed the man back to the shed, and Anne and Rose looked at each other, and then glanced about the low dark room.

“I don’t believe he’s a pirate,” whispered Anne; “anyway I’m glad to be in out of this dreadful storm.”

“So am I,” answered Rose, “but it is a funny house. What do you suppose made Lady turn in at that place? This man may not be a pirate, but there is something odd about him. This whole place is queer. I almost wish we had stayed in the chaise.”

Under the two windows that faced toward the woods ran a long box-like seat, and in one corner of the room stood a shoemaker’s bench, with its rows of awls, needles threaded with waxed thread, hammers, sharp knives, tiny wooden pegs, and bits of leather; a worn boot lay on the floor as if the man had started up from his work at Mr. Freeman’s rap.

“What’s that, Rose?” questioned Anne, pointing to a piece of iron that could be seen extending from beneath an old blanket which lay under the bench.

“It’s a rifle!” answered Rose. “Look, Anne! Quick, before he comes back. I believe there are a lot of guns there.”

Anne knelt down to lift the blanket. Rose was close beside her, leaning over to see what the blanket might conceal, when the kitchen door swung open and the man entered. As he looked at the two girls his face darkened again, and he came quickly forward.

“Aha!” he muttered. “It’s just as I thought. Pretty clever of the old Tory to bring these girls along to peek about and find out all they can,” but the girls did not hear him until he stood beside them, and then his scowl was gone and he spoke pleasantly: “A good many rifles for one man, but they are not all mine. I’m storing them for friends.”

“Where’s father?” asked Rose, a little anxiously.

“He’s giving the pretty horse a rub down,” answered the man; “now there’s a better room for young ladies than this old kitchen,” he continued. “Just come this way,” and he opened a door into a long dark passage, into which the girls followed him.

“Right in here,” said the man, opening a door at the further end of the hall, and holding it ajar for the girls to pass in.

“It’s all dark!” exclaimed Anne, who had been the first to enter. Rose was close behind her and as Rose crossed the threshold the heavy door swung to behind them. They heard bolts shot and then all was quiet.

Rose sprang against the door with all her strength, but instantly realized that it was useless to try to open it. “Father! Father!” she screamed, and Anne, hardly knowing what she said, called also “Father!”

“It’s dark as pitch,” whispered Anne, clutching at Rose’s dress; “there can’t be a window in this room, or we’d see light somewhere.”

The two girls clung together, not knowing what next might befall them.

“There may be some other door,” said Rose after they had screamed themselves hoarse. “We must not be frightened, Anne, for father is sure to look for us. Let’s go round the room and try and find a door. We can feel along the wall,” so the two girls began to grope their way from the door.

“These inside walls are brick!” exclaimed Rose, as her hands left the wooden framework of the door. “Oh, Anne, I do believe it is a sort of prison all walled inside.” Just then their feet struck against something hard and round which rolled before them with a little rumble of sound. Rose leaned down. “They’re cannon-balls,” she whispered. “Oh, Anne! There’s a whole pile of them. Don’t go another step; we’ll fall over them. I do believe the man is a pirate, or else a Tory.” For in those troublous times the Americans felt that a Tory was a dangerous enemy to their country.

As the girls groped about the room they came to a heavy iron chest, and sat down, realizing that all they could do was to wait until Mr. Freeman should discover them.

“Don’t be afraid, Anne,” said Rose, putting her arm about her little companion, and felt surprised when Anne answered in a hopeful voice:

“Rose, look! Right up on that wall there’s a window. I can see little edges of light.”

“So there is, but it’s too high to do us any good; we can’t reach it,” answered Rose.

“Well, I’m glad it’s there,” said Anne.

Now and then they heard the far-off roar of the thunder, but at last it seemed to die away, and little edges of light showed clearly around the shuttered window on the further wall. The girls watched it, and, their eyes becoming used to the shadowy room, they could now distinguish the pile of cannon-balls in the opposite corner, and behind them a small cannon and a keg. They could see, too, the outlines of the doorway.

“How long do you think we shall have to stay here?” whispered Anne, as the dreary fearful moments dragged by.

“I don’t know, dear,” answered the elder girl, “but we mustn’t be afraid.”

The hours went by and the little edge of light around the high shuttered window began to fade a little, and the girls knew that the long summer day was fading to twilight, and that it had been about noon when they came to the house. A great fear now took possession of Rose’s thoughts, the fear for her father’s safety. She was sure that unless some harm had befallen him he would have found them before this time.

“Rose!” Anne’s sharp whisper interrupted her thoughts. “If I could get up to that window I could get out and go after help. The window isn’t so very high; it isn’t as if we were up-stairs.”

At that very moment the big door swung open, and the man entered. He had a candle in one hand and carried an armful of rough gray blankets which he dropped on the floor beside the girls, and instantly, without a word, departed, and the girls heard the bolts shot on the outside.

“Those blankets are for us to sleep on. Oh, Anne, what has he done to my dear father?” and Rose began to cry bitterly.

“Rose, he’s coming back!” warned Anne, but the girl could no longer restrain her sobs and their jailer entered, this time carrying the big lunch basket which Aunt Hetty had put under the seat when they drove off so happily from Brewster.

“Here’s your own grub,” said the man roughly. “Your father’ll have to put up with what I give him.”

“You—you—won’t kill my father, will you?” sobbed Rose.

“Oh, no, no!” answered the man, and then apparently regretting his more friendly tone added, “But I reckon I ought to, coming here a-peekin’ an’ a-pryin’ into what don’t concern him,” and he set the basket down on the iron chest with such a thud that it fairly bounced.

“Oh, he wasn’t; I was the one who peeked at the guns,” said Anne.

“Oho! Peekin’ at the guns! Well, I’ve got you now where you can’t peek much,” came the gruff answer.

“Won’t you leave the candle?” asked Rose.

“I guess not,” he answered with a little laugh, and pointed toward the keg. “Look at that keg! Well, it’s full of powder, and powder’s too sca’se an article these days to leave a candle in the same room with it.”

“But we can’t see to eat,” pleaded Anne. “We’ll be real careful; we won’t go near the corner.”

For a moment the man hesitated; then he set the candle down on the chest beside the basket.

“All right,” he said. “I’ll leave it; ’twon’t burn more than an hour.” He looked down at Rose’s tear-stained face, and added, “Ain’t no cause to cry about your father; he’s had a good supper, and I ain’t goin’ to hurt him.”

“Oh, thank you!” and Rose looked up at him gratefully.

The door had hardly swung to before Anne whispered, “Rose, Rose, I must get out of that window some way. You know I must. It’s too small for you, but I’m sure I could get through.”

“Let’s eat something before you think about that,” suggested Rose, who began to feel more hopeful now that she knew her father was safe, and opened the big basket. The man had brought them a pitcher of cool water, and the girls ate and drank heartily.

“Aunt Hetty would be surprised if she knew where we were eating these lovely doughnuts,” said Anne, holding up the delicately browned twisted cruller.

“Anne, if we could push this chest under the window I could stand on it and try to open the window and if I can open it, then I will lift you up and you can crawl through,” said Rose, biting into a chicken sandwich.

Anne nodded, watching the candle with anxious eyes, remembering that their jailer had said that it would burn but an hour.

“Now, Anne,” said Rose, after they had satisfied their hunger, and closed the basket, “we must try to push the chest.”

To their surprise it moved very easily, and they soon had it directly under the window. Rose was on top of it in an instant, and Anne held the candle as high as she could reach so that Rose could examine the fastening.

“Why, Anne, it pushes right out,” said Rose. “It’s only hooked down. Look!” and she pushed the heavy square outward. “But it doesn’t go very far out,” she added. “I wonder if you can crawl through. I do believe this shutter is shingled on the outside, so that nobody could tell there was a window. Oh, Anne! Isn’t this a dreadful place!” Rose peered cautiously out of the open space. “Blow out the candle,” she said quickly, drawing back into the room. “He might be outside and see the light.”

Anne instantly obeyed.

“Now, Anne, dear,” said Rose, “if you can get out what are you going to do?”

“I’ll run back to the road as fast as I can go and get some people to come back here and rescue you,” said Anne.

“Yes, but you had best go on; you know there are no houses for a long way on the road we came, and we must be nearer the Suet settlement than any other. You won’t be afraid, Anne!”

“No, Rose,” declared the little girl, “and if I think of you shut up here, even if I am afraid, I shall keep on until I find somebody and bring him to help you.”

“That’s splendid, Anne!” answered Rose. “Now step here beside me, and I’ll lift you up.”