Success alternated between the contending parties, and kept the country in a state of perpetual alarm. One week, the widow of Colonel Campbell was surrounded by victorious friends, and the next week, she was in terror for her life. At last, Camillo himself came with a band of successful insurgents. During a brief and agitated interview with his mother, he learned how kindly she had been sheltered in their neighbour’s house, and how tenderly the remains of his father had been treated. When she pointed to the crucifix on the wall, and told its history, his eyes filled with tears. “Oh, why cannot we of different faith always treat each other thus?” was his inward thought; but he bowed his head in silence. Hearing loud voices, he started up suddenly, exclaiming, “There may be danger below!” Following the noise, he found soldiers threatening Friend Goodman, who stood with his back firmly placed against the door of an inner room. Seeing Camillo enter, and being aware of the great influence his family had with the Catholics, he said, “These men insist upon carrying out the dying Orangemen who are sheltered here, and compelling me to see them shot. Is it thy will that these murders should be committed?” The young man took his hand, and in tones of deep respect answered, “Could you believe that I would suffer violence to be done to any under _your_ roof, if I had power to prevent it?” Then turning to his soldiers, he said, “These excellent people have injured no one. Through all these troubled times, they have been kind alike to Pikemen and Orangemen; they have buried our dead, and sheltered our widows. If you have any respect for the memory of my father, treat with respect all who wear the peaceful garb of the Quakers.” The men spoke apart for awhile, and soon after left the house. As Camillo passed by the kitchen door, he saw Alice distributing boiled potatoes to a crowd of hungry children. A soldier stood by her, insisting that she should wear a cross, which was the emblem of the Pikemen. She mildly replied, “I cannot consent to _wear_ the cross, but I hope God will enable me to _bear_ it.” The rude fellow, who was somewhat intoxicated, touched her under the chin, and said, “Come, mavourneen, do be a little more obliging.” Camillo instantly seized his arm, and, exclaiming, “Behave decently, my lad! behave decently!” he led him to the door. As he went, he turned towards Alice with an expression she never forgot, and said, in a low deep tone, “Words are poor to thank you for what you have done for my mother.” The next day, when he met Alice walking to meeting, he touched his hat respectfully and said, “I scarcely deem it prudent for you to be in the roads at this time, Miss Alice. Armed insurgents are everywhere abroad; and though there is a prevailing disposition not to injure the Quakers, still many of our men are too desperate to be always controlled.”