"No. They came from one of the forts taken by the State troops awhile ago. I borrowed 'em on condition that I give 'em back when they are wanted. They're too light for coast defense, but just the thing for our business. Well, what do you say?" "You have not yet asked my consent," Mrs. Gray reminded him. "I didn't think I'd have to," answered Mr. Beardsley. "I reckoned you were like all the other women folks--ready and willing to do anything for the cause." "But if Marcy should be killed--" "Aw! He aint going to be killed," exclaimed the visitor rudely. "Don't I tell you that we'll run the minute we sight a war-vessel." "But you might run aground and they might capture you," answered Mrs. Gray, who knew as well as anybody how dangerous the coast was, even to those who were acquainted with it. "And if Marcy should be sent to prison, as he would if he were taken on board an armed schooner, what would become of me? My oldest boy is at sea, and it is my desire to keep Marcy with me as much as I can." "He can run up and see you when we come into port, which will be as often as we take a prize, or see signs of a blow in the clouds outside," said Mr. Beardsley, putting on his hat, and getting upon his feet. "Come down and see the schooner, Marcy. Stop at my house, and I'll show you right where she is." "How soon do you start?" "Some time this week, I hope. The sooner we get outside the better our chances will be. That's why I say, make hay while the sun shines. Two or three hauls will make us so rich that we needn't do no more work the longest day we live." "And will you feel no sorrow for those who lose their property, and perhaps their all, through your efforts to enrich yourself?" asked Mrs. Gray. "That's why I say that one man's pizen is another man's meat," replied Beardsley. "Not a mite of sorrow will I feel for them Yankees. Let them come under our flag if they want protection. When will you be along, Marcy?" "To-morrow about this time," answered the boy. "All right. Think over what I've said to you, and be ready with an answer. When you learn a little more about a vessel I will give you a chance as mate. Good-by." Beardsley walked down the steps and out of the gate, and Marcy kept his eyes fastened upon him as long as he remained in sight. Then he faced about and looked at his mother, who had dropped her sewing into her lap and sat motionless in her chair, the picture of misery and dejection. "They're going for us, mother," said he, with a smile. "That interview with Beardsley has satisfied me that I can't live up to my principles in this country as I should like to." "I never dreamed of anything like this," said Mrs. Gray, at length. "What are you going to do, Marcy?" "There's only one thing I can do and keep a roof over your head," answered Marcy, thrusting his hands deep into his pockets and striding up and down the porch. "I must accept his proposition; that's all there is about it." "Oh, Marcy!" exclaimed his mother.