nest sentiments, as every citizen had a
right to do; and he would like to see any man, or any body of men, who
would dare to meddle with him.

"I am afraid you will see them, Squire Pemberton," added the minister.

"Let them come where they please and when they please."

"What will you do? What is your single arm against scores of strong men?"

"Nothing, perhaps, but I don't fear them. I am true to my convictions; why
need I fear?"

"I think your convictions, as you call them, are deluding you. Do you
think Benedict Arnold's convictions, if he had any, would have saved his
neck from the halter?"

"Do you mean to compare me to Benedict Arnold, sir?"

"I came to you, as a friend, to warn you of impending danger; and, as your
friend, I am compelled to say that I don't see much difference between
your position and that of Benedict Arnold."

"Do you mean to insult me?"

"Not at all, sir. I was only expressing my honest conviction. Instead of
placing yourself on the side of your government, on the side of law and
order, you are going about Pinchbrook Harbor denouncing the legitimate
government of your country, and pleading the cause of rebels and
traitors."

"Am I not at liberty to say what I please of the government?"

"In ordinary times, you are. Just now, the country is in a state of war,
and he who is not for the flag is against it. You may criticize the
government as its friend, but not as its foe. When armed men conspire
against the peace of the land, he who pleads their cause is a
traitor--nay, sir, don't be angry; these are my convictions."

"Political parsons have been the ruin of the country," sneered the squire.
"That is my conviction."

"Squire Pemberton, I beg you not to be rash. If you must cherish these
pernicious views, I entreat you, keep them to yourself. You may think what
you please, but the utterance of treason makes a traitor."

"I shall proclaim my views from the housetop," replied the squire,
angrily, as he abruptly turned away from the minister.