“Pardon me, sir; the need is now.  The country is not to be saved by men who make bargains like day-laborers, and who quit when the hour is up, but by soldiers who give themselves to their country as they would to their wives and sweethearts.  My husband and sons are in the army you have deserted.  General Washington has written to our governor asking whether an example should not be made of the men who have deserted the cause of their country at this critical time when the enemy are receiving re-enforcements.  We are told that Connecticut men have brought disgrace on our colony and have imperilled the whole army.  You feel like taking comfort and seeing the folks.  The folks do not feel like seeing you.  My husband and the brave men in the lines are in all the more danger because of your desertion, for a soldier’s time never expires when the enemy is growing stronger and threatening every home in the land.  If all followed your example, the British would soon be upon your heels, taking from us our honor and our all.  We are not ignorant of the critical condition of our army; and I can tell you, sir, that if many more of our men come home, the women will take their places.”

Zeke’s companions succumbed to the stern arraignment, and after a brief whispered consultation one spoke for the rest.  “Madam,” he said, “you put it in a way that we hadn’t realized before.  We’ll right-about-face and march back in the morning, for we feel that we’d rather face all the British in Boston than any more Connecticut women.”

“Then, sirs, you shall have supper and shelter and welcome,” was the prompt reply.

Zeke assumed an air of importance as he said:  “There are reasons why I must be at home for a time, but I not only expect to return, but also to take many back with me.”

“I trust your deeds may prove as large as your words,” was the chilly reply; and then he was made to feel that he was barely tolerated.  Some hints from his old associates added to the disfavor which the family took but little pains to conceal.  There was a large vein of selfish calculation in Zeke’s nature, and he was not to be swept away by any impulses.  He believed he could have a prolonged visit home, yet manage so admirably that when he returned he would be followed by a squad of recruits, and chief of all he would be the triumphant suitor of Susie Rolliffe.  Her manner in parting had satisfied him that he had made go deep an impression that it would be folly not to follow it up.  He trudged the remainder of the journey alone, and secured tolerable treatment by assuring the people that he was returning for recruits for the army.  He reached home in the afternoon of Christmas; and although the day was almost completely ignored in the Puritan household, yet Mrs. Watkins forgot country, Popery, and all, in her mother love, and Zeke supped on the finest turkey of the flock.  Old Mr. Watkins, it is true, looked rather grim, but the reception had been reassuring in the main; and Zeke had resolved on a line of tactics which would make him, as he believed, the military hero of the town.  After he had satisfied an appetite which had been growing ever since he left camp, he started to call on Susie in all the bravery of his best attire, filled with sanguine expectations inspired by memories of the past and recent potations of cider.