"Whenever and wherever you may choose," responded Uncle Nathan.
"This is my cousin and my young friend, Lemuel Roberts; they will wait upon you," said Mr. Hewes, waving his hand towards his companions.
Stilted recognitions followed, and some whispering.
"To-morrow morning, then, at the spring in yonder hollow," announced one of the suddenly appointed seconds. Bows were exchanged, and the two parties walked away and descended the opposite slopes of the hill.
Cloud, the overseer, was evidently delighted with the unexpected turn of affairs. But the rest of the party walked on in silence.
When they reached the house, Nathaniel Frothingham called to Cato, who came into the hall. "Cato," he said, "get out those ebony-handled pistols, and bring them on the lawn."
What fun the twins had that afternoon, and how their uncle rose in their estimation, for at the first shot the stem of a wine-glass placed against a tree-trunk had been shattered, and Uncle Nathan had turned, saying, "I have not forgotten how—eh, Daniel?"
One thing the twins could not understand was why every one should be so glum over a little pistol practice, or why their aunt Clarissa should sit upstairs with her finger-tips in her ears, and her eyes red from weeping.
Something unusual was in the wind, it was easy to see that, but what it was the boys could not determine.