That evening, at Westings House, while the beginnings of a bleak March wind storm blustered and whimpered outside, Mistress Mehitable brewed a hot posset of uncommonly cheering quality. The cheer was needed; for all felt that a crisis of some sort, or some grave change, was at hand. Doctor John, who had quite recovered, tried in vain to make his fooling sound spontaneous. The grave eyes of Destiny would persist in looking out through the jester's-mask. At length Doctor Jim exclaimed, abruptly:
"I must go, now! I must take Amos and slip away in the night, and go wherever men are gathering to fight for the king. I'm not needed here now, John, since you are back to take care of Mehitable and Barbara!"
It was what all had been waiting for, but it came with a shock—the shock of conviction, not of surprise—to all. Mistress Mehitable turned ghost pale, and unconsciously her hand went to her heart. Doctor John noticed the action, with sad eyes that belied the humour of his mouth. Barbara sprang up, rushed over to Doctor Jim, and flung her arms around his neck.
"Please don't go, Doctor Jim!" she pleaded. "This is the place for you. And here we all love you so we don't care what side you're on. And as for going to fight for your side,—of course, you want to, we all know that,—but you never can get through to the coast. You can never get through our people. No, you can't, Doctor Jim! You must stay here with us. Help me hold him, Aunt Hitty!"
"Jim," said Doctor John, his voice trembling with earnestness, "I appeal to you to stay. Don't break our hearts by going. Stay for our sakes. I know, brother, how you feel,—and believing as you do, I don't blame you,—I'll never blame you. But Barbara is right. You can't get through. You can stay with a clear conscience!"
Mistress Mehitable, since becoming assured of the attitude of the Second Westings men, had lost all her dread of having him stay, and gained a quivering fear of having him go. Forgetful of all else, she now laid her slim hand on his, looked at him with her whole soul in her eyes, and said:
"Must you? Oh, Jim, are you so sure you ought to go?"
A faint spasm passed over Doctor John's face—Barbara alone observing it—and seemed to leave it older and sterner. He opened his mouth to speak, but Doctor Jim was ahead of him.
"Yes, I know my duty. If a man sees it, he's got to do it,—eh, what, dearest lady in the world? I wish I didn't see it so plain. Then I might stay here with you all, you whom I love. But I see my duty, to fight for the king, just as plain as you saw yours, John, to fight for your damned old Congress!"
"I'm not going to fight any more!" interrupted Doctor John, speciously.