Mrs. Secord. Not that; yet that. Oh, James, I scarce can bear
The stormy swell that surges o'er my heart,
Awaked by what they have revealed this night.
Mr. Secord. Dear wife, what is't?
Mrs. Secord. Oh, sit you down and rest, for you will need
All strength you may command to hear me tell.
[Mr. Secord sits down, his wife by him.
That saucy fellow, Winter, and a guard
Came and demanded supper; and, of course,
They had to get it. Pete and Flos I left
To wait on them, but soon they sent them off,
Their jugs supplied,—and fell a-talking, loud,
As in defiance, of some private plan