But Mrs. Owen saw that he spoke with assumed lightness. "I think," she said, "that we ought to have Sally's mother with us. To-morrow is First-day, which will give time to discuss the subject in all its bearings. She should be with us. Robert, wilt thou go for her?" "With pleasure, Mrs. Owen," he responded rising. "And we must not forget that Uncle Jacob Deering is one of the Council." "True," exclaimed Lowry Owen, her face lighting up. "True; I had forgotten." CHAPTER VIII BEFORE THE COUNCIL "Then call them to our presence. Face to face, And frowning brow to brow, ourselves will hear The accuser and accused freely speak." --_Richard II._ Monday, Second-day in Quaker parlance, dawned. The intense cold had abated though the air remained crisp and keen. A venturesome robin perched upon the bare bough of a cherry tree that grew near one of the sitting-room windows, and gave vent to his short and frequent song. Sally called Peggy's attention to him. "Dost hear what he says?" she cried. "Cheer up! Cheer up! Cheer up! 'Tis a harbinger of spring, and flowers, and warmer weather. Who knows but that he brings good luck to us too, Peggy?" Peggy smiled sadly. "I hope so," she made answer. "But oh! I do wish this interview with the Council were over." "And so do I," agreed Sally soberly. "'Twill soon be now, Peggy, for here comes thy mother to call us to get ready." "Yes," spoke Mrs. Owen overhearing the words. "David says that as soon as ye have donned your wraps 'twill be time to go." Peggy and Sally were Quaker maidens, well drilled in art of self-repression, so they made no scene as they bade their mothers farewell, and took leave of Nurse Johnson, her son and Robert Dale. In spite of their training, however, their eyes were wet, and neither was able to speak for a few moments after they left the house. Then Sally broke the silence. "Peggy," she said, "after this I shall always have the greatest sympathy for the poor wretches who are executed. I feel just as though I was about to be hanged." "So do I, Sally. How great a change is wrought by war! A few short years ago neither of us thought to be called before the highest tribunal of the state. How happy we were before this awful war with its weary years of fighting came! Then we had no thought of sorrow, and friend was not against friend, misconstruing every act and deed of kindness." "I think I would not pursue that line of talk, lassies," commented David Owen who walked in front of them. "See how brightly the sun shines! How blue the sky is! Beyond that azure is One in the hollow of whose hand ye are. Have courage." "Yes, Mr. Owen," gasped Sally, stopping abruptly as they reached the walk leading to the State House entrance. "Yes; but what hath happened to the State House? 'Tis so big. I knew not that 'twas so large."