The family at home consisted of Mrs. Somers and three children.  The two oldest daughters were married to two honest, hard-working fishermen at the Harbor.  Thomas and John were twins, sixteen years of age.  The former had a place in one of the stores at the village, and the latter occasionally went a fishing trip with his brothers-in-law.  Both of the boys had been brought up to work, and there was need enough now that they should contribute what they could to the support of the family.  The youngest child, Jane, was but eleven years of age, and went to school.  Mrs. Somers’s brother, a feeble old man, a soldier in the war of 1812, and a pensioner of the government, had been a member of the family for twenty years; and was familiarly known in town as “Gran’ther Green.”

Having thus made our readers acquainted with Pinchbrook and the Somers family, we are prepared to continue our story.

Thomas and John walked down to the Harbor together after dinner.  The latter had listened with interest and approbation to his brother’s account of the “Battle of Pinchbrook,” as he facetiously called it; and perhaps he thought Thomas might need his assistance before he reached the store, for Fred and his father would not probably be willing to let the matter rest where they had left it.

We are sorry not to be able to approve all the acts of the hero of this volume; but John, without asking our opinion, fully indorsed the action of his brother.

“Fred is a traitor, and so is his father,” said he, as they passed out at the front gate of the little cottage.

“That’s so, Jack; and it made my blood boil to hear them talk,” replied Thomas.  “And I couldn’t help calling things by their right names.”

“Bully for you, Tom!” added John, as he turned round, and glanced at the house to assure himself they were out of the hearing of their mother.  “Between you and me, Tom, there will be music in Pinchbrook to-night.”

He lowered his voice, and spoke in tones big with mystery and heavy with importance.

“What do you mean?” asked Thomas, his interest excited by the words and manner of his brother.

“There is fun ahead.”

“Tell me what it’s all about.”

“You won’t say a word—­will you?”

“Of course I won’t.”

“Not to mother, I mean, most of all.”

“Certainly not.”

“Squire Pemberton has been talking too loud for his own good.”

“I know that; he was in the store this forenoon, and Jeff Davis himself is no bigger traitor than he is.”

“Some of the people are going to make him a call to-night.”

“What for?”

“What do you suppose?  Can’t you see through a millstone, Tom, when there is a hole in it?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“You can come with us if you like, and then you will know all about it,” added John, mysteriously.

“But what are you going to do?”