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and would have rushed upstairs for his gun had not Lucy
seized him by the arm and restrained him. Before he could
escape from her, the clatter of horses' hoofs told him that
they were beyond his reach.

"The young canting rascals!" he exclaimed, wiping the
perspiration from his forehead; "I would sooner see you in
your grave, my girl, than the wife of either of them."

"And so should I, father," she answered, with spirit;
"but Jefferson will soon be here."

"Yes. It will not be long before he comes. The sooner the
better, for we do not know what their next move may be."

It was, indeed, high time that someone capable of giving
advice and help should come to the aid of the sturdy old
farmer and his adopted daughter. In the whole history of the
settlement there had never been such a case of rank
disobedience to the authority of the Elders. If minor errors
were punished so sternly, what would be the fate of this arch
rebel. Ferrier knew that his wealth and position would be of
no avail to him. Others as well known and as rich as himself
had been spirited away before now, and their goods given over
to the Church. He was a brave man, but he trembled at the
vague, shadowy terrors which hung over him. Any known danger
he could face with a firm lip, but this suspense was
unnerving. He concealed his fears from his daughter,
however, and affected to make light of the whole matter,
though she, with the keen eye of love, saw plainly that he
was ill at ease.

He expected that he would receive some message or
remonstrance from Young as to his conduct, and he was not
mistaken, though it came in an unlooked-for manner. Upon
rising next morning he found, to his surprise, a small square
of paper pinned on to the coverlet of his bed just over his
chest. On it was printed, in bold straggling letters:--

"Twenty-nine days are given you for amendment, and then ----"

The dash was more fear-inspiring than any threat could have
been. How this warning came into his room puzzled John
Ferrier sorely, for his servants slept in an outhouse, and
the doors and windows had all been secured. He crumpled the
paper up and said nothing to his daughter, but the incident
struck a chill into his heart. The twenty-nine days were
evidently the balance of the month which Young had promised.
What strength or courage could avail against an enemy armed
with such mysterious powers? The hand which fastened that
pin might have struck him to the heart, and he could never
have known who had slain him.

Still more shaken was he next morning. They had sat down to
their breakfast when Lucy with a cry of surprise pointed
upwards. In the centre of the ceiling was scrawled, with a
burned stick apparently, the number 28. To his daughter it
was unintelligible, and he did not enlighten her. That night
he sat up with his gun and kept watch and ward. He saw and

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