Mrs. Somers had heard as much from him, but she had given no particular
attention to his remarks on this subject, for they seemed wild and
visionary. John's words, under the present circumstances, appeared to be
full of importance; and taking her stocking, she seated herself before the
stove, and resumed her knitting. She was silent now, for her heart was
heavy with the premonitions of impending trouble.

"I will take a walk down to the Harbor, mother, and see if I can find
anything of him. There may be something going on there that I don't know
about. He may be at the store, talking about the war with Captain Barney
and the rest of the folks."

Mrs. Somers offered no objection to this plan, and John put on his cap,
and left the house. The poor mother brooded upon her trouble for another
hour, and with every new moment, the trouble seemed more real. The clock
struck twelve before John returned; and more than once during his absence,
as she plied her needles, she had wiped away a tear that hung among the
furrows of her care-worn cheek. She had been thinking of her husband, as
well as of her son. He was, or soon would be, in the midst of the
traitors, and she trembled for him. Uncle Wyman was a secessionist; and,
beyond this, she had not much confidence in his integrity, and if Captain
Somers came home at all, his property would all be swept away, and he
would be a beggar.

The events of that day were not calculated to conciliate Squire Pemberton
towards them, and the farm and the cottage would pass away from them. All
these things had been considered and reconsidered by the devoted mother.
Poverty and want seemed to stare her in the face; and to add to all these
troubles, Thomas did not come home, and, as fond mothers will, she