"Who told you that?"
"I'll be switched if I know. It's all over the country and in everybody's mouth. I reckon you're Union about as I am. I say that secession is all wrong, that we would be better without it, and that the people who are urging it on don't know what they are about. There's Allison for one; and I'm heartily glad you gave him such a set-back. He'll talk himself hoarse, but when it comes to shouldering a musket, he'll not be there. He'll be a bully chap to stand back and holler 'St-boy'; but he won't take a hand himself."
By this time the two friends had perched themselves upon a low fence where they could be alone and talk without fear of being overheard, and Gifford showed his Yankee descent by pulling out his knife and looking around for a stick to whittle.
"And is that the reason all our old friends have gone back on us, mother and me—because they think we are for the Union?" asked Marcy.
"I believe that is the reason a good many have turned the cold shoulder upon you," replied Gifford. "You asked me a fair question, and I have given you a plain answer; but I am sorry to have to do it."
"It's all right," Marcy assured him. "I want to know where I stand—"
"And then you will know how to carry yourself," added his friend. "But every one hasn't gone back on you; I haven't."
"You are the solitary exception."
"Well, you have taken the right course to show people that they were mistaken in you," said Gifford. "I don't see but that you were well enough treated to-day."
"And joining the privateer was what worked the change?"