Mr. Chittenden's fierce denunciation of the North alarmed Grace. What would he say if he knew she was for the Union? She resolved to keep still and say nothing. She noticed a large number of rough men calling on her father, and a great number of secret consultations were held. The first great shock came to Grace when one day her father said, "Grace, I wish you would cease visiting Helen Osborne, and by all means do not invite her here. I want no intercourse between the two families." Grace opened her eyes in astonishment. "Why, father, what is the matter?" she asked. "Osborne is a sneaking Yankee, an abolitionist, and the old fool can't keep his mouth shut." "What difference should that make as far as Helen and I are concerned?" asked Grace, her eyes flashing. Surprised at the feeling his daughter showed, Mr. Chittenden said more gently: "Grace, you do not understand, you do not realize the feeling throughout the country. To be friendly with the Osbornes would bring suspicion on me. Even your visits would be misconstrued. Do as I ask you, Grace, for my sake." She promised, though very reluctantly. More than once she resolved to tell her father her true feelings, but shrank from the ordeal. After that Grace did not leave the valley. Rough, uncouth men came to visit her father more frequently than ever, and she heard enough to know that the waves of war had rolled clear down to Springfield and that the whole State was becoming a vast armed camp. One day her father seemed much perturbed, and at last rode away in company with several men. Grace noticed they were all armed. Feeling alarmed as well as lonely, she resolved to take a ride. Ordering her favorite horse saddled, she soon was galloping down the valley towards the Osbornes. Why she took that direction she hardly knew. She rode as near to the Osbornes as she thought prudent, and was about to turn back, when she saw a great cloud of smoke arising. "It must be the Osborne house," she exclaimed, and urged her horse forward. When she came to where she could see she reined in her horse and gazed at the scene in horror. Not only was Mr. Osborne's house in flames, but his barn and outbuildings, as well as stacks of grain. But it was not so much the fire as what else she saw that made her face pale and her breath to come in gasps. A little apart from the fire stood a group of men, and in their midst Mr. Osborne, with a rope around his neck. His wife and daughter were clinging to him, and even from where Grace was their shrieks and cries for mercy reached her ears. She took one look, then struck her horse a sharp blow and, like a whirlwind, came upon the scene. Astonished, the men stood like statues. "You pretend to be men, I suppose," she cried, "and call this war. Cowards! Poltroons! Murderers!" [Illustration: "You pretend to be men and call this war!"] Just then she caught sight of her father in the group. "You too!" she gasped, and fell fainting from her horse.