“Lass, hear me, for thy mother’s sake I am trying to save thee. I never knew her story, but she was a lady. In meeting, thy case hath been considered, thy father is no longer to be tolerated in the town, he must go, and I have taken thy care upon myself.” Debby stared in bewilderment, then slowly the truth dawned upon her. Old Thomas Martin had been ordered from the town, and poor Jack bound out to Elder Morris. It was quite plain, her father was to go also, out into that somewhere of silence and absence, and she was bound out to Mrs. Lane like a slave; she, proud, free Debby Mason! “I won’t go with you!” she shrieked, “I’ll go with father! He loves me, and, and beside I promised mother!” Just then the man upon the floor stirred and roused; after many exertions he sat up. One look at his little daughter and Mrs. Lane steadied him. “Good morning!” he smiled foolishly; “I’m afraid I’ve taken a drop too much again. Debby, child, don’t take on so, I’m going away so that I won’t disgrace you any more. There’s going to be trouble sure as you live, and I’m going to fight. If I come back, lass, I’ll be a man.” He arose clumsily and stood before the woman and girl with downcast eyes. Debby grew white to the lips. It was true then. He was going away. After all she had borne and suffered for his sake, he was turning his back upon her, leaving her to fare as she might. Little poor Debby knew of patriotism, or the new talk of war and a republic; she had not even that hope to help her bear this blow. Just then, down the street came a straggling company of men and boys headed by a drum and fife. As they drew near Mason stood straighter and taking from the wall a rusty gun, staggered to the door. Mrs. Lane drew Debby back. “Come on, Mason,” called the men; “if they don’t want you in Plymouth, you’ll soon be wanted out yonder. There’s plenty of room in Boston for men like you and us.” Mason reeled on. Debby could not let him slip from her without one more struggle. She broke away from Mrs. Lane and ran after the swaying figure. “Father!” she cried, “take me with you! I love you! I love you! Remember what mother said!” The man stood still, sobered for a moment by that magic name. “Lass,” he whispered putting his arms about her, “all they said in the meeting was true. I’m going to be a man, so help me God for her sake and yours—or I won’t come back!” “Come on Billy!” yelled the crowd, “Deb can do without you!” Clinging to her father poor Debby’s rage and despair rose. She shook her fist at the laughing mob. “You’re a mad lot!” she cried, “the whole town is mad to take my father from me. I curse you all! I curse you every one for what you have done!” The men laughed loudly. “Bring your drum, Deb, and come along,” called one. “You need not part with the old man. You’re as good as a lad any day, and a better fighter I swear than your daddy. Come on and drum us to victory.”