The squire continued obdurate to the last.  Neither the persuasions of his friends nor the threats of his enemies had any effect in silencing his tongue; and as late as sundown on that day of the Great Awakening he was pouring treachery and treason into the ears of a neighbor who happened to pass his house.  Half an hour later in the day, there was a great gathering of men and boys at the bridge on the outskirts of the village.  They were singing Hail Columbia and the Star-spangled Banner.  Thomas and John Somers were there.

Presently the assemblage began to move up the road which led to Squire Pemberton’s house, singing patriotic songs as they marched.  It was a multitude of persons for Pinchbrook; and no doubt the obnoxious oracle thought so when he saw the sea of heads that surrounded his dwelling.  If this was a mob, it was certainly a very orderly mob, for the crowd thus far had done nothing worse than to sing the national airs.

The arrangements had all been made before the multitude started from the place of rendezvous.  Three gentlemen, the principal of whom was Captain Barney, had been appointed a committee to wait upon the squire, and politely request him to display the American flag on his premises.

In the road, in front of the house, a large fire had been kindled, which threw a broad, bright glare on the house and the surrounding grounds.  It was as light as day in the vicinity when the committee walked up to the front door of the house and rang the bell.  The squire answered the summons himself.

“Squire Pemberton,” said Captain Barney, “your fellow-citizens, about two hundred in number, have called upon you with a simple and reasonable request.”

“What is it?” demanded the squire.

“That you hoist the Stars and Stripes on your house.”

“I won’t do it!” roared the victim, as he slammed the door in the faces of the committee.

“That is insolence,” said Captain Barney, quietly.  “We will go in.”

The captain led the way; but the door had been locked upon them.  The shoulders of three stout men pressed against it, and the bolt yielded.

“What do you mean, you villains?” thundered the squire, as he confronted the committee in the entry.

“You were so impolite as to close the door in our faces before we had finished our story,” replied the immovable old sea captain.

“How dare you break in my door?” growled the squire.

“We shall do worse than that, squire, if you don’t treat us respectfully.”

“A man’s house is his castle,” added the squire, a little more moderately.

“That’s very good law, but there isn’t a house in Pinchbrook that is big enough or strong enough to shield a traitor from the indignation of his fellow-citizens.  We do not purpose to harm you or your property, if you behave like a reasonable man.”

“You shall suffer for this outrage,” gasped the squire, whose rage was increased by the cool and civil manner of Captain Barney.