Her throat grew tight, and she felt tears of eagerness and excitement sting her eyelids. She was going to serve her country, like Tom and Johnny and Dick, and all the Newburyport lads, all the lads of the Bay Colony, and maybe other colonies, too. She was going to take part in a serious, and a mighty, and a very grown-up thing. Wars were history, and she was going to help make history. It had been done before by other girls who were just as young. She was glad, she thought, that she was to have a chance to do it in her time. Her heart stirred just as it did in church when one or another of the old warlike hymn tunes rose on the air. “You’d better take a cloak, Kit, for it’ll grow cold after sundown, and we may ride late,” advised Sally Rose, pulling her own fleecy shawl from the carved old press. “Come, let’s be off to the wars in Boston!” On her way to follow Sally Rose’s bidding, Kitty caught sight of her cousin’s note as it lay open on the dressing table. _Dear Granny_, the note began, in dainty, pointed script, _Forgive me for leaving you so suddenly, and practically forcing poor Kitty to go along. But I dare not travel by myself, and I find that a sudden yearning to see my father takes me...._ Kitty stood still for a moment and almost gave up all idea of this desperate journey. “We’ll have a gay time in Charlestown.” “I want to serve my country.” “A sudden yearning to see my father takes me.” Sally Rose could give many reasons for what she wanted to do. And she would always give the ones most likely to get her what she wanted. And what was her true reason? No one knew except Sally Rose. Nevertheless, Kitty found she did not turn back, but folded her cloak over her arm and hastened downstairs after her cousin. After all, what was her own reason for wanting to go to Charlestown? She did want to serve her country, but she was quick enough to see that she could serve it quite as well at home, if she had chosen so. But she had not so chosen. Was not she, Kitty, slyer, more secret and stubborn than Sally Rose in getting her own way? * * * * * It was black dark when they rode into Ipswich, very few lights in the town, and very few people still awake. The moon was hidden away behind the clouds somewhere, and a light mist had begun to fall. “I hoped we could get as far as Beverly,” said Sally Rose, “but we’ve come only half the way. Uncle Moses said he had plenty of horses in his barn, but he didn’t say they were plow horses. Well, there’s a light in the tavern. I’ve stopped there before, and I know the landlord’s daughter. A pert, homely little wench, but I’m sure she’ll find us a bed.” “I hope so,” said Kitty dubiously, climbing down from her horse and following her cousin up the wide stone steps and through the low front door.