"You should also consider my feelings when I think of you in armed rebellion against the best government God ever allowed to exist; that my own brother is a rebel and a traitor, who is liable to be shot or hung for his armed treason."
This was too much for Homer, and he gave vent to his emotion in a laugh at the picture his brother had drawn. He walked the library, and chuckled as though he were actually amused at the remarks of the other; and perhaps he was.
"I am really and heartily sorry for you, Horatio. Your future, I fear, will be terribly dark. Of course, all business will cease at the North: the grass will grow in the streets of New York and other large cities. You have an immense fortune, which I do not believe you can retain a single year; for the war is not to be confined to Southern soil, but will be carried into the North, where the expenses of our men will be paid by the enemy."
"I think we had better confine our attention to the present, and let the future take care of itself," said Horatio, with a smile at the prophetic croakings of his brother.
"Be that as it may, though I feel confident that all I predict will come to pass, I desire to have one thing understood: when you have lost your fortune, or wasted it on the hireling armies of the North, or on ships for its navy, you may always be sure of a home at Glenfield for yourself and all your family."
"If you do not lose or waste all that you have on the army of the other side," added Horatio with a smile. "But I am ready to drop this subject."
"It seems to be useless to continue it; though, if there were any possible way to convert you from the error of your way of thinking, I would struggle all night with you," said Homer.
"You cannot make a traitor of me, brother. But I must tell Florry to pack her trunk at once."
"Pack her trunk? Why are you in such a hurry?" demanded Homer.
"Because this is not a safe place for me and mine; and I have my two children with me."