For Jael, she disappeared.
There was a private path from the tan-yard to the mill, along the river-side; by this we went, in silence.

When we reached the spot it was deserted; but further down the river we heard a scuffling, and saw a number of men breaking down our garden wall.
"They think he is gone home," whispered John; "we'll get in here the safer.

Quick, Phineas." We crossed the little bridge; John took a key out of his pocket, and let us into the mill by a small door--the only entrance, and that was barred and trebly barred within.

It had good need to be in such times.
The mill was a queer, musty, silent place, especially the machinery room, the sole flooring of which was the dark, dangerous stream.

We stood there a good while--it was the safest place, having no windows.
Then we followed my father to the top story, where he kept his bags of grain.