Belpre on an errand.
Albright, the dairyman, spoke disparagingly; she ordered him to look
after the cows. She put an arm round her wavering lord, and drew him
into his favorite retreat, the library.

"You must embark to-night or lose your liberty, possibly your life.
The trunks are packed--everything is ready! We must be brave, as an
example to the children." While she spoke Dominick knocked at the
door. "May I come in, mamma? I want to go along with papa; I want to
go along to Mexico!" The mother gently pushed him from the room. Tears
were in the eyes of both parents.

"Margaret, ought I leave them and you unprotected?" She kissed him on
the forehead and pressed his tremulous hand.

"Have no fear. I shall be safe. To-morrow we will follow you. Now make
haste and complete your final preparations. Tell your men just what to
do. We know not the instant that Colonel Phelps may come to arrest
you." Blennerhassett assured his wife that everything had been
attended to, and that he was ready, at a moment's warning, to start
for his boat, which lay waiting by the shore. Night came on, however,
and still the fond husband and father lingered. The snow was falling
in the outer darkness, and the wind howled through the long avenue of
the portico. No wonder the easy-going devotee of luxury shrank from
stepping into the bleak night, to navigate a scow down the rough, icy
current of the Ohio. Against his wife's protest he took up the
violincello and began to tune up its three remaining strings. Touching
the chords lightly with the bow, he attempted to play "Auld Lang
Syne." A confused noise in the direction of the river stopped the
plaintive music.

"Now you _must_ start; I will go along to the river's edge, and see
you safe aboard."

Blennerhassett hurried to the bedroom of his boys. Little Harman was
asleep. The father kissed the favorite child, and then embraced
Dominick.

"Be a good boy, Nicky. Mamma will soon bring you to me again."

Voices were heard shouting, somewhere, in the distance. When Madam
Blennerhassett opened the hall door to go forth with her husband, a
dash of snow was driven into her face by the insolent wind. Arm in arm
went the pair, through the drift which heaped the dooryard path and
covered the flower beds. They saw a fire which a squad of the recruits
had kindled near the river, to warm their numb hands. The flickering
blaze made fantastic lights and shadows among the gaunt bare trees.
Just beyond t