And, as Bram filled and lighted his pipe, he hummed softly the rallying

song of the day,-"In story we're told

How our fathers of old

Braved the rage of the winds and the waves;

And crossed the deep o'er,

For this far-away shore,

All because they would never be slaves--brave boys!

All because they would never be slaves.

"The birthright we hold

Shall never be sold,

But sacred maintained to our graves;

And before we comply

We will gallantly die,

For we will not, we will not be slaves--brave boys!

For we will not, we will not be slaves."

In the meantime Semple, fuming and ejaculating, was making his way

slowly home. It was a dark night, and the road full of treacherous soft

places, fatal to that spotless condition of hose and shoes which was one

of his weak points. However, before he had gone very far, he was

overtaken by his son Neil, now a very staid and stately gentleman,

holding under the government a high legal position in the investigation

of the disputed New-Hampshire grants.

He listened respectfully to his father's animadversions on the folly of

the Van Heemskirks; but he was thinking mainly of the first news told

him,--the early return of Katherine. He was conscious that he still

loved Katherine, and that he still hated Hyde. As they approached the

house, the elder saw the gleam of a candle through the drawn blind; and

he asked querulously, "What's your mother doing wi' a candle at this

hour, I wonder?"

"She'll be sewing or reading, father."

"Hoots! she should aye mak' the wark and the hour suit. There's spinning

and knitting for the night-time. Wi' soldiers quartered to the right

hand and the left hand, and a civil war staring us in the face, it's

neither tallow nor wax we'll hae to spare."

He was climbing the pipe-clayed steps as he spoke, and in a few minutes

was standing face to face with the offender. Madam Semple was reading

and, as her husband opened the parlour door, she lifted her eyes from

her book, and let them calmly rest upon him.

"Fire-light and candle-light, baith, Janet! A fair illumination, and nae

ither thing but bad news for it."

"It is for reading the Word, Elder."

"For the night season, meditation, Janet, meditation;" and he lifted the

extinguisher, and put out the candle. "Meditate on what you hae read.

The Word will bide a deal o' thinking about. You'll hae heard the ill

news?"

"I heard naething ill."




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