John Masefield

“ I lay very quietly in my warm nest in the hay, feeling lonely in that still stable after my nights in the lugger among the men. The old horse stamped once or twice, and the stable cat came purring to me, seeking to be petted. The church clock struck nine, and rang out a chime. Shortly after nine I heard the clatter of many horses' hoofs coming along the road, and then the noise of cavalry jingling and clattering into the inn yard. A horse whinnied, the old horse in the stable whinnied in answer. A curt voice called to the men to dismount, and for some one to hold the horses. ”

“ Then I climbed up to the pigeon-house, down the loft-ladder, into the inn-yard, to the broken back door of the tavern. The door hung from one hinge, with its lower panels kicked in just as the soldiers had left it. The inn was open to anybody who cared to enter.
I entered cautiously, half expecting to find a few soldiers billeted there. But the place was empty. I went from room to room, finding no one; Mrs. Dick seemed to have disappeared. One of the rooms was in disorder. A few broken glasses were on the floor; a chair lay on its side under the table. I went upstairs. ”

“ Everybody has to have an alibi. And so my Dick'll have one, just to make sure. Mind your head against the stair."
I crawled out, rubbing my eyes.
"Where shall I go to?" I asked.
"Oh," she said. "Until we find out, you had better go in the stable, in among the feed in the box, or covered up in the hay."
When she had settled her husband safely into the drawing-room, she bustled me out of doors into the stable, which stood in the yard at the back of the inn. She put me into a mass of loose hay, in one of the unused stalls.
"There," she said. "They'll never look for you there. ”