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 thought, then, with an air of decision, moved over to where her cape hung and put it on.

"Why, where be going?" asked Charity, in astonishment.

"To help Miranda. Stay you here, Charity, and keep the fire going. Canst come with me, Mistress Briggs?"

"Aye." The older woman got heavily to her feet and, during the long, anxious walk back to her home, outlined the situation as she had left it. She had not exaggerated it. A sorry sight met their eyes as they lifted the latch and entered Mistress Briggs's kitchen. Ten or more hard-faced men were lounging around, muddying the spotless floor with their dirty boots. In the center of the room, the target of their rude wit and wrath, sat Miranda, bound, as her mother had said, to a chair, while Squire Briggs, his face gray, sat intimidated upon a stool. He was protesting feebly as the two newcomers entered.

Mistress Nancy marched straight up to Hawtree and spoke to him haughtily. "Unloose the maid!" she commanded.

Hawtree, taken aback, stared at her for a moment with dropped jaw. Then, at the absurdity of this slip of a girl asserting authority over him he laughed in her face. No whit discomposed, Mistress Nancy drew out a paper from her reticule and handed it to him.

"Read that!" she directed curtly. "Then free Mistress Miranda!"

Hawtree stared from her to the paper he had taken mechanically; but as his eye fell upon the signature