the
bed-clothes; sent Julius like a shot out of the back window and
scurrying barelegged through the garden; reached the ears of a pale but
resolute woman, who hastily began arraying herself in such garments as
she could find in the dark, and brought out of bed an excited,
determined boy who opened an upper window with a crash, and shoved the
muzzles of two heavy revolvers down at the blue-jackets. This was Marcy
Gray. When his eye fell upon the double line of men in front of the
house he made up his mind that the robbers had come out in full force
this time.

"Get out of that, or I will blow some of you to kingdom come!" said he,
without a quiver in his voice. "One--two----"

"Avast there!" exclaimed the master's mate.

"Don't shoot, Marse Mahcy, honey!" cried Jonas, who thought that both
the revolvers were pointed straight at his own head. "Dese yer folks all
Yankees, sar; all Yankees de las' blessed one ob 'em, sar."

"Jonas, is that you?" said Marcy, who could scarcely believe his ears.
"What brought you here at this hour of the night, and how came you in
the company of such a gang as that?"

"If you are Marcy Gray, I beg to assure you that we are here for no evil
purpose," said Mr. Watkins, who now came down from the porch and looked
up at the boy. "We want to see you particularly. Come down, if you
please, and let me explain."

"You're quite sure you are Union, are you?" said Marcy, who, at first,
could not make up his mind that this was not a ruse on the part of
lawless men to gain admission to the house; but, on second thought, he
concluded that it was not, for, if they had been determined to come in,
they could have done it by breaking down the doors, or smashing the
windows, and that, too, without taking the trouble to call him and his
mother.

"We are quite positive on that point," answered Mr. Watkins. "We belong
to the Burnside expedition. You knew we were in the Sound, I suppose?"

"I am satisfied, and will be down while you are thinking about it," said
Marcy, slamming the window, and hastening back to his room.

He lingered there long enough to put on a few articles of clothing, and
then ran down the stairs with a lighted lamp in his hand. In the lower
hall he found his mother, who was bravely striving to nerve herself to
face something more dreadful than she had yet experienced. She had heard
Marcy talking to the men who were gathered in front of the house, and,
although she had not been able