After breakfast the Ducklows set off in the one-horse wagon, leaving Taddy to take care of the house during their absence. That each felt secretly uneasy about the coupon bonds cannot be denied; but, after the experiences of the night and the recriminations of the morning, they were unwilling to acknowledge their fears even to themselves, and much less to each other; so the precious papers were left hidden under the carpet. "Safe enough, in all conscience!" said Mr. Ducklow. "Taddy! Taddy! now mind!" Mrs. Ducklow repeated for the twentieth time. "Don't you leave the house, and don't you touch the matches nor the fire, and don't go to ransacking the rooms neither. You won't, will ye?" "No 'm," answered Taddy, also for the twentieth time,--secretly resolved, all the while, to take advantage of their absence, and discover, if possible, what Mr. Ducklow brought home last night in his boot-leg. The Ducklows had intended to show their zeal and affection by making Reuben an early visit. They were somewhat chagrined, therefore, to find several neighbors already arrived to pay their respects to the returned soldier. The fact that Miss Beswick was among the number did not serve greatly to heighten their spirits. "I've as good a notion to turn round and go straight home again as ever I had to eat!" muttered Mrs. Ducklow. "It's too late now," said her husband, advancing with a show of confidence and cordiality he did not feel. "Wal, Reuben! glad to see ye! glad to see ye! This is a joyful day I scurce ever expected to see! Why, ye don't look so sick as I thought ye would! Does he, mother?" "Dear me!" said Mrs. Ducklow, her woman's nature, and perhaps her old motherly feelings for their adopted son, deeply moved by the sight of his changed and wasted aspect. "I'd no idee he could be so very, so very pale and thin! Had you, Sophrony?" "I don't know what I thought," said the young wife, standing by, watching her returned volunteer with features surcharged with emotion,--deep suffering and sympathy, suffused and lighted up by love and joy. "I only know I have him now! He has come home! He shall never leave me again,--never!" "But wasn't it terrible to see him brought home so?" whispered Mrs. Ducklow. "Yes, it was! But, oh, I was so thankful! I felt the worst was over; and I had him again! I can nurse him now. He is no longer hundreds of miles away, among strangers, where I cannot go to him,--though I should have gone long ago, as you know, if I could have raised the means, and if it hadn't been for the children." "I--I--Mr. Ducklow would have tried to help you to the means, and I would have taken the children, if we had thought it best for you to go," said Mrs. Ducklow. "But you see now it wasn't best, don't you?"