"Where do you suppose Thomas is?" said Mrs. Somers, as she glanced at the
clock, which indicated half-past nine.

"I don't know," replied John. "He can't be a great ways off. I saw him in
front of the squire's house when the committee went in."

"The boy's gone down to the Harbor again with the rest of the folks,
talking about the war," added gran'ther Greene, as he rose from his chair,
and hobbled into his chamber adjoining the kitchen.

At ten o'clock, the mother began to be a little uneasy; and at eleven,
even John had some fears that all was not well with his brother. Neither
of them was able to suggest anything that could possibly have happened to
the absentee. There had been no battle fought, and so nobody could have
been killed. There had been no violence used in the transactions of the
evening further than breaking in the front door of Squire Pemberton, so
that it was not easy to believe that any accident had happened to him.

John had given a glowing account of the proceedings at the house of the
squire and the family had been much interested and excited by the stirring
narrative. His mother was perfectly satisfied, as no one had been injured,
and hoped the great man of Pinchbrook would be brought to his senses. All
these topics had been fully discussed during the evening. John had
informed his mother that Captain Benson, who had formerly commanded the
Pinchbrook Riflemen, intended to raise a company for the war. He mentioned
the names of half a dozen young men who had expressed their desire to
join. The family had suggested that this and that man would go, and thus
the long evening passed away.