“By Jove, sir, I wish I had my good right arm, I’d join you. As it is, they’ll not find this inhabitant unarmed, despite his empty sleeve.” He laughed at his joke, and clenched his fist with a frown a moment after.
“Now, father,” Mrs. Weeks protested, “you wouldn’t offer fight. You’ve given enough for your country. No one could expect more.”
“It isn’t what is expected; it is what I want to do. I suppose the old graybeards up your way, Mr. Baldwin, would call me a terribly hot-headed fellow.”
“A certain number might, but we young men honor you, Mr. Weeks. I pray you, don’t censure all New England for the attitude of a few. To be sure they are leading men, and the Peace party is strong up there, but we furnish some good fighters when all is told.”
“I believe that. I hear Providence has voted money for fortifications in Rhode Island, and that the shipmasters in Portland have formed themselves into a company of sea-fencibles, and that even your own state has caught the fever and is preparing for defence.”
“Yes, I am glad to say she is touched at last, even though the Federalists still urge their militia to stay at home.”
“What a contrast to Kentucky and her gallant governor, leading his men to the front.”
“There, father, there,” came Mrs. Weeks’s soft voice. “You always get excited over that. Mr. Baldwin is a Boston man, remember.”
“But not a Federalist,” replied the young man, smiling. “You surely will consider this question of getting farther away from the coast, Mrs. Weeks. It is really not safe for you here.”
“We can ill leave our place just now,” said the intrepid Mr. Weeks. “I am determined to stand by my home till the last. Yet, in the main, I agree with you. Betty and her mother would better take Lettice and the boy and go up to the city.”