It was an act of allegiance that embraced every soul present, and was followed by a moment of silence that throbbed with emotion; then the young man who had spoken for the company looked expressively at his comrades, and they turned northward to the city, their hearts burning with a steady fervour of loyalty, and their faces full of that dauntless hope which of its own energy fulfils itself. Quiet they could not long be, and when they reached the upper end of the Bowling Green, they began to sing; softly at first, but gradually gathering into a rattling vocal melody, the fiery passion of loyalty that filled their hearts: “Here’s to the Squire who goes to parade! Here’s to the citizen soldier! Here’s to the merchant who fights for his trade Whom danger increasing makes bolder. Here’s to the lawyer, who leaving his bar Hastens where honour doth lead, Sir, Changing his gown for the ensigns of war, The cause of his country to plead, Sir! Freedom appears, Every heart cheers, And calls for the help of the brave Volunteers.” They sang the verse to the gay inspiring music of its old English song, and then gave lustily the cheers it called for. Their echo floated into the Bloommaert house, where the family were sitting down to their belated dinner; for this commonplace event was eagerly accepted as a relief. To eat and to drink, that would mean help and remission, and they had felt until feeling had become prostrating and oppressive. Christopher made the first remark, and this was to quote the last line of the song, “Calls for the help of the brave Volunteers,” asking after a short pause, “Is it not so, father?” “Yes, Christopher. I suppose you will sail soon?” “As soon as my new ship is ready. Peter is hurrying it forward. I am impatient to be off.” “Have you seen Peter to-day?” asked his mother. “I saw him, but he was far too busy to talk. The hammers ring in his ship-yard from the first streak of dawn to the last glint of daylight. And now the demand for ships will be doubled.” “We shall want soldiers as well as sailors, Christopher,” said the judge. “That is true, father, and they will not be to beg nor to seek. This is a cause that knocks at every man’s door. Leonard Murray is only one of many rich young men who are raising companies at their own expense.” “Then it _was_ Leonard Murray with those men who were here an hour ago,” said Mrs. Bloommaert. “I felt sure of it; but how much he has changed.” “In some ways, yes; in general he is just the same good fellow he has ever been. I had a few words with him early this morning, and he asked me to give his respectful remembrance to you and to Sapphira.” “It is four or five years since I saw him; where has he been?”