"I don't see what has become of Thomas," said Mrs. Somers, when the clock
struck eleven, as she rose from her chair and looked out of the window.

"Well, I don't see, either," replied John. "I don't believe there is
anything going on at this time of night."

"I hope nothing has happened to him," continued the anxious mother, as she
went to the door and looked out, hoping, perhaps, to discover him in the
gloom of the night, or to hear his familiar step.

"What could have happened to him?" asked John, who did not believe his
brother was fool enough to fall overboard, or permit any serious accident
to happen to him.

"I don't know. I can't see what has got the boy. He always comes home
before nine o'clock. Have you heard him say anything that will give you an
idea where he is?"

"He hasn't said anything to me."

"Try, and see if you can't think of something," persisted the anxious
mother.

"He hasn't talked of anything but the war since yesterday morning."

"What did he say?"

"I don't know, now," answered John, musing. "He said he should like to
join the army, and go down and fight the rebels."