“Here’s Jacques,” said she, looking up.

“Jacques, my good lad,” said my uncle, holding out his feeble hand, “I thank you for this visit, and yet more for staying with us last night.”

“You have not noticed any of the dragoons lurking about outside, I hope?” said my aunt, anxiously.

“No,” said I, “all seems quiet at present; but there is no knowing when they will return, and my parents have sent me to fetch you away.  My mother declares she shall know no peace till she has you under her roof.”

“My good boy, I can no more go to her than I can fly,” said my uncle.

“Oh yes, uncle, you can.  I have brought you a nice covered cart, filled with hay, on which you will lie quite easily, and I will carry you down to it on my back.”

My uncle and aunt were most thankful for this, and, after very little preparation, closed the shutters of the little dwelling, and turned the key on it.  My uncle was made tolerably comfortable, with my aunt seated beside him; and in this way we stealthily quitted the neighborhood.  I could hear uproarious voices in the distance, and occasionally a faint scream or wail, but gradually left these painful sounds behind.  To say truth, I was by no means sure of our performing this journey in safety, and had many alarms by the way; and as for my uncle, my aunt afterwards told me he was in prayer the whole of the way, to which might probably be ascribed our safety; for ours is a God that heareth prayer, not when it is a mere babble of words, in a language we do not understand, repeated over and over again, and made a merit of; but His ears are attent unto the cry of the contrite heart, and the prayer of them that are sorrowful.

It was far into the night, or rather near morning, when we reached our journey’s end.  My father cautiously admitted us; my mother received the fugitives with the tenderest affection.  A hot supper awaited them, after partaking which they were thankful to retire to the loft; and not even the children were to know they were there, and the youngest of our two servants had been sent to her home; for my father told me that the dragoons were expected to pay us a visit shortly, when the premises would doubtless be ransacked; “and since your uncle has borne the journey better than might have been expected,” said he, “the sooner we can get him out of the country the better.”

He then told me what plans he had been devising for this purpose, and that if my uncle were equal to it on the morrow, I should set him and my aunt on their way to a certain point, which, if they reached in safety, they would then be cared for.

“The greatest difficulty,” said he, “is about a passport; but that may possibly be procured on the frontier, for the great object of government seems to be to chase all our godly ministers out of the kingdom, that their flocks, deprived of their strengthening exhortations, may fall an easier prey.”