"Who cares for tar and feathers?" said Mr. Kent; "there has been already a
martyr in the ranks of Abolition, and there may be more. Lovejoy died a
glorious martyr's death, and there are others ready to do the same."

"Give me my cane, there, captain, if you please," said Colonel Watson, who
had been looking at Mr. Kent's blazing countenance and projecting eyes, in
utter amazement. "Why, Buena Vista was nothing to this. Good night, madam,
and do tell Susan not to jump into the fire again; I wonder she was not
burned up while she was there. Come, captain, let us make our escape while
we can."

The captain followed, bidding the whole party good night, with a smile. He
had been perfectly charmed with the Abolition discussion. Mr. Jones had got
very sleepy, and he and Mr. Scott made their adieu. Mr. Kent, with some
embarrassment, bade Mrs. Moore good night. Mrs. Moore begged him to go
South and be converted, for she believed his whole heart required changing.
Captain Moore followed them to the door, and shivered as he inhaled the
north-easter. "Come, Emmy," said he, as he entered, rubbing his hands,
"you've fought for your country this night; let's go to bed."

Mrs. Moore lit a candle, and put out the lard-lamp, wondering if she had
been impolite to Mr. Kent. She led the way to the staircase, in a
reflective state of mind; Neptune followed, and stood at the foot of the
steps for some moments, in deep thought; concluding that if there should be
danger of any one's falling into a river up there, they would call him and
let him know, he went back, laid down on the soft rug, and fell asleep for
the night.

* * * * *