She came in with bare feet, and pale as marble, her finger on her lips.
She approached--she touched him.
"They are in the shed behind," she whispered, "looking for the sledge-hammer--they mean to murder you; get you gone--quick." "How ?--the door is locked." "Stay.

I have taken the key from his room." She gained the door, applied the key--the door yielded.

The traveller threw his knapsack once more over his shoulder, and made but one stride to the threshold.

The girl stopped him.

"Don't say anything about it; he is my father, they would hang him." "No, no.