At the mention of the number of the dead, however, something like awe passed over them, and changed their countenances to dismay.  Nick alone was indifferent.  By the cold apathy of his manner, the captain saw at once that the battle of Lexington had not been a secret to the Tuscarora, when he commenced his own account.  As the captain always encouraged a proper familiarity in his dependants, he now told them he was ready to answer any questions they might think expedient to put to him, in gratification of their natural curiosity.

“I s’pose this news comes by the major?” asked Joel.

“You may well suppose that, Strides.  My son is here, and we have no other means of getting it.”

“Will yer honour be wishful that we shoulther our fire-arms, and go out and fight one of them sides, or t’other?” demanded Mike.

“I wish nothing of the sort, O’Hearn.  It will be time enough for us to take a decided part, when we get better ideas of what is really going on.”

“Doesn’t the captain, then, think matters have got far enough towards a head, for the Americans to make up their minds conclusively, as it might be?” put in Joel, in his very worst manner.

“I think it will be wiser for us all to remain where we are, and as we are.  Civil war is a serious matter, Strides, And no man should rush blindly into its dangers and difficulties.”

Joel looked at the miller, and the miller looked at Joel.  Neither said anything, however, at the time.  Jamie Allen had been out in the ‘forty-five,’ when thirty years younger than he was that day; and though he had his predilections and antipathies, circumstances had taught him prudence.

“Will the parliament, think ye, no be bidding the soldiery to wark their will on the puir unairmed folk, up and down the country, and they not provided with the means to resist them?”

“Och, Jamie!” interrupted Mike, who did not appear to deem it necessary to treat this matter with even decent respect—­“where will be yer valour and stomach, to ask sich a question as that!  A man is always reathy, when he has his ar-r-ms and legs free to act accorthing to natur’.  What would a rigiment of throops do ag’in the likes of sich a place as this?  I’m sure it’s tin years I’ve been in it, and I’ve niver been able to find my way out of it.  Set a souldier to rowing on the lake forenent the rising sun, with orders to get to the other ind, and a pretty job he ’d make of marching on that same!  I knows it, for I’ve thried it, and it is not a new beginner that will make much of sich oare; barring he knows nothin’ about them.”