Three Young Knights | Page 9

the latter's hand off the door
knob rather impatiently. "Let me get hold of it!"
But, rattle the door as he might, he could not stir the rusty lock.
"Well, we're locked in, that's sure!" said Kent, looking almost
dismayed.
CHAPTER V.
"I guess you're right, Jotham," Old Tilly said.

"But what in the world did they go and lock up for, when we got in just
as easy as pie last night?" exclaimed Kent, disgustedly.
"Oh, ask something easy!" Jot cried. "What I want to know is, how
we're going to get on the other side o' that door."
The care-taker, if one could call him that, of the old meeting-house, had
taken it into his head to take care of it!--or it may have been that the
key chanced to be in his pocket, convenient. At all events, the door was
securely fastened. The three boys reluctantly gave up the attempt to
force it.
"Windows!" Kent suddenly exclaimed, and they all laughed foolishly.
They had not thought of the windows.
"That's a good joke on the Eddy boys!" Old Tilly said. "We sha'n't hear
the last of it if anybody lets on to father."
"Better wait till we're on the other side of the windows!" advised Kent.
"Maybe it isn't a joke."
There were windows enough. They were ranged in monotonous rows
on all sides of the church, above and below. They all had tiny
old-fashioned panes of glass and were fastened with wooden buttons. It
was the work of a minute to "unbutton" one of them and jump out.
"There!" breathed Jot in relief, as his toes touched sod again, "I feel as
if I'd been in prison and just got out."
"Broken out--that's the way I feel. I wish we could fasten the window
again," Old Tilly said thoughtfully.
Kent was rubbing his ankle ruefully.
"It was a joke on us, our mooning round that door all that time, and
thinking we were trapped!"
"Oh, well, come on; it doesn't matter, now we're free again."

"Come along--here are our wheels all right," Old Tilly said briskly.
"Let's go down to that little bunch of white houses there under the hill,
and pick out the one we want to stay over night in."
"The one that wants us to stay in it, you mean! Come on, then."
It was already mid-afternoon. The beautiful Sunday peace that broods
over New England's country places rested softly on new-mown fields
and bits of pasture and woods. The boys' hearts were made tender by
the service they had so unexpectedly attended, and as the beauty of the
scene recalled again the home fields, they fell into silence. A tiny,
brown-coated bird tilted on a twig and sang to them as they passed. The
little throat throbbed and pulsated with eager melody.
Old Tilly listened to the song to its close, then swung round suddenly.
His face was like father's when he got up from his knees at family
prayers.
"That bird seems singing, 'Holy, holy, holy,'" Old Tilly said softly.
"Can't you hear?"
"Yes, I hear," murmured Jot.
The little white house they picked out sat back from the highway in a
nest of lilac bushes. It reminded the boys a very little of home.
"Stop over night? Away from home, be ye? Why, yes, I guess me an' pa
can take you in. One, two--dear land! there's three of ye, ain't there?
Yes, yes, come right in! I couldn't turn three boys away--not three!"
The sweet-faced old woman in the doorway held out both hands
welcomingly. She seemed to get at the history of the three young
knights by some instinctive mind-reading of her own--the boys
themselves said so little. It was the little old lady's sweet voice that ran
on without periods, piecing Old Tilly's brief explanatory words together
skillfully.
"Havin' a holiday, be you? I see. Well, young folks has to have their

outin's. When they git as old as me an' pa, they'll be all innin's!" she ran
on. Suddenly she stooped and surveyed them with a placid attempt at
sternness. "I hope you've all be'n to meetin'?" she cried.
Jot's face twisted oddly.
"Yes," Old Tilly answered, subduedly, "we've been to church."
"I thought so--I thought so. Now come in an' see pa--poor pa' He was
took again yesterday. He's frettin' dretfully about the hay. Pa--"
Her voice went on ahead and heralded their coming. "Here's three boys
come to stop over night with us--three, pa. You're glad there's three of
'em, ain't you? I knew you'd be. When I'd counted 'em up, I didn't
hesitate any longer! The littlest one looks a little mite like our Joey,
pa--only Joey was handsome," she added innocently.
Kent nudged Jot delightedly. They were entering a quaint,
old-fashioned room, and at the