“All very true, and all very well, in your mouth, chaplain; yet even the visible church may err.  This doctrine of divine right would have kept the Stuarts on the throne, and it is not even English doctrine; much less, then, need it be American.  I am no Cromwellian, no republican, that wishes to oppose the throne, in order to destroy it.  A good king is a good thing, and a prodigious blessing to a country; still, a people needs look to its political privileges if it wish to preserve them.  You and I will discuss this matter another time, parson.  There will be plenty of opportunities,” he added, rising, and smiling good-humouredly; “I must, now, call my people together, and let them know this news.  It is not fair to conceal a civil war.”

“My dear sir!” exclaimed the major, in concern—­“are you not wrong?—­ precipitate, I mean—­Is it not better to preserve the secret, to give yourself time for reflection—­to await events?—­I can discover no necessity for this haste.  Should you see things differently, hereafter, an incautious word uttered at this moment might bring much motive for regret.”

“I have thought of all this, Bob, during the night—­for hardly did I close my eyes—­and you cannot change my purpose.  It is honest to let my people know how matters stand; and, so far from being hazardous, as you seem to think, I consider it wise.  God knows what time will bring forth; but, in every, or any event, fair-dealing can scarcely injure him who practises it.  I have already sent directions to have the whole settlement collected on the lawn, at the ringing of the bell, and I expect every moment we shall hear the summons.”

Against this decision there was no appeal.  Mild and indulgent as the captain habitually was, his authority was not to be disputed, when he chose to exercise it.  Some doubts arose, and the father participated in them, for a moment, as to what might be the effect on the major’s fortunes; for, should a very patriotic spirit arise among the men, two-thirds of whom were native Americans, and what was more, from the eastern colonies, he might be detained; or, at least, betrayed on his return, and delivered into the hands of the revolted authorities.  This was a very serious consideration, and it detained the captain in the house, some time after the people were assembled, debating the chances, in the bosom of his own family.

“We exaggerate the danger,” the captain, at length, exclaimed.  “Most of these men have been with me for years, and I know not one among them who I think would wish to injure me, or even you, my son, in this way.  There is far more danger in attempting to deceive them, than in making them confidants.  I will go out and tell the truth; then we shall, at least, have the security of self-approbation.  If you escape the danger of being sold by Nick, my son, I think you have little to fear from any other.”

“By Nick!” repeated half-a-dozen voices, in surprise—­Surely, father—­ surely, Willoughby—­surely, my dear captain, you cannot suspect as old and tried a follower, as the Tuscarora!”