CHURCHILL
 
 CALIFORNIA I 
 
 SAN 01 EGO j
 
 
 RICHARD CARVEL
 
 Ttie2)<V>^o 
 
 ^ ^"* - o
 
 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 BY 
 
 WINSTON CHURCHILL 
 
 AUTHOR OF " THE CELEBRITY," ETC., BTC. 
 
 WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY 
 CARLTON T. CHAPMAN AND MALCOLM FRASER 
 
 THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 
 
 LONDON: MACMILLAN & CO., Ltd. 
 1900 
 
 All rights reserved
 
 Copyright, 1899, 
 By the M ACM ill an COMPANY. 
 
 Set up and electrotyped May, 1899. Reprinted June four times, 
 July three times, August five times, September four times, October 
 three times, November, December three times, 1899; January, 1900. 
 February, March, July, September, iqoo. 
 
 STottonoli ^rtss 
 
 J. S. Cushing & Co. — Berwick & Smith 
 Norwood Mass. U.S.A.
 
 TO 
 
 JAMES E. YEATMAN", ESQUIRE 
 <©f .Saint ILouts 
 
 AK AMERICAN GENTLEMAN WHOSE LIFE IS 
 AN EXAMPLE TO HIS COUNTRYMEN
 
 FOREWORD 
 
 Mt sons and daughters have tried to persuade me to remodel 
 these memoirs of my grandfather into a latter-day romance. 
 But I have thought it wiser to leave them as he wrote them. 
 Albeit they contain some details not of interest to the general 
 public, to my notion it is such imperfections as these which 
 lend to them the reality they bear. Certain it is, when read- 
 ing them, I live his life over again. 
 
 Needless to say, Mr. Kichard Carvel never intended them 
 for publication. His first apology would be for his Scotch, 
 and his only defence is that he was not a Scotchman. 
 
 The lively capital which once reflected the wit and fashion 
 of Europe has fallen into decay. The silent streets no more 
 echo with the rumble of coaches and gay chariots, and grass^ 
 grows where busy merchants trod. Stately ball-rooms, where 
 beauty once reigned, are cold and empty and mildewed, and 
 halls, where laughter rang, are silent. Time was when every 
 wide-throated chimney poured forth its cloud of smoke, when 
 every andiron held a generous log, — andirons which are now 
 gone to decorate Mr. Centennial's home in New York or lie 
 with a tag in the window of some curio shop. The mantel, 
 carved in delicate wreaths, is boarded up, and an unsightly 
 stove mocks the gilded ceiling. Children romp in that room 
 with the silver door-knobs, where my master and his lady were
 
 viii FOREWORD 
 
 wont to sit at cards in silk and brocade, while liveried blacks 
 entered on tiptoe. No marble Cupids or tall Dianas fill tbe 
 niches in the staircase, and the mahogany board, round which 
 has been gathered many a famous toast and wit, is gone from 
 the dining room. 
 
 But Mr. Carvel's town house in Annapolis stands to-day, 
 with its neighbours, a mournful relic of a glory that is past. 
 
 DANIEL CLAPSADDLE CARVEL. 
 
 Calvbkt House, Pennsylvania, 
 December 21, 1876.
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 OHAPTBB 
 
 
 
 
 
 PAffB 
 
 I. 
 
 Lionel Carvel, of Carvel Hall 1 
 
 11. 
 
 Some Memories of Childhood 
 
 
 
 
 6 
 
 III. 
 
 Caught by the Tide 
 
 
 
 
 16 
 
 IV. 
 
 Grafton would heal an Old Breach . 
 
 
 
 
 27 
 
 V. 
 
 " If Ladies be but Young and Fair " 
 
 
 
 
 41 
 
 VI. 
 
 I first suffer for the Cause 
 
 
 
 
 50 
 
 VII. 
 
 Grafton has his Chance . 
 
 
 
 
 . 61 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Over the Wall 
 
 
 
 
 . 70 
 
 IX. 
 
 Under False Colours 
 
 
 
 
 78 
 
 X. 
 
 The Red in the Carvel Blood . 
 
 
 
 
 . 91 
 
 XI. 
 
 A Festival and a Parting .... 
 
 
 
 
 103 
 
 XII. 
 
 News from a Far Country 
 
 
 
 
 116 
 
 XIII. 
 
 Mr. Allen shows his Hand 
 
 
 
 
 125 
 
 XIV. 
 
 The Volte Coupe 
 
 
 
 
 136 
 
 XV. 
 
 Of which the Rector has the Worst . 
 
 
 
 
 . 144 
 
 XVI. 
 
 In which Some Things are made Clear 
 
 
 
 
 154 
 
 XVII. 
 
 South River 
 
 
 
 
 169 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 The Black Moll 
 
 
 
 
 164 
 
 XIX. 
 
 A Man of Destiny 
 
 
 
 
 174 
 
 XX. 
 
 A Sad Home-coming .... 
 
 
 
 
 184 
 
 XXI. 
 
 The Gardener's Cottage . 
 
 
 
 
 195 
 
 XXII. 
 
 On the Road 
 
 
 
 
 203 
 
 IX
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 OHAPTBB PA.eB 
 
 XXIII. London Town 215 
 
 XXIV, Castle Yard 227 
 
 XXV. The Rescue 234 
 
 XXVI. The Part Horatio played 244 
 
 XXVII. In which I am sore tempted 253 
 
 XXVIII. Arlington Street 264 
 
 XXIX. I meet a very Great Young Man 271 
 
 XXX. A Conspiracy 279 
 
 XXXI. "Upstairs into the World" 290 
 
 XXXII. Lady Tankerville's Drum-major 303 
 
 XXXIII. Drury Lane 313 
 
 XXXIV. His Grace makes Advances 323 
 
 XXXV. In which my Lord Baltimore appears .... 329 
 
 XXXVI. A Glimpse of Mr. Garrick 337 
 
 XXXVII. The Serpentine 344 
 
 XXXVIII. In which I am roundly brought to task . . .354 
 
 XXXIX. Holland House 362 
 
 XL. Vauxhall 372 
 
 XLI. The Wilderness 380 
 
 XLII. My Friends are proven 389 
 
 XLIII. Annapolis once more 395 
 
 XLIV. Noblesse Oblige 404 
 
 XLV. The House of Memories .413 
 
 XLVI. Gordon's Pride 422 
 
 XLVII. Visitors 427 
 
 XLVIIL Multum in Parvo 438 
 
 XLIX. Liberty loses a Friend 448 
 
 L. Farewell to Gordon's 457 
 
 LL How an Idle Prophecy came to pass .... 463
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 XI 
 
 OHAPTKB 
 
 LII. How the Gardener's Son fought the Serapis 
 
 LIII. In which I make Some Discoveries 
 
 LIV. More Discoveries 
 
 LV. " The Love of a Maid for a Man " 
 
 LVI. How Good came out of Evil 
 
 LVII. I come to my Own again . 
 
 PAOB 
 
 475 
 490 
 
 500 
 512 
 521 
 532
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 If I might kill this monster, I would die willingly Frontispiece 381 
 
 One fifteenth of June 11 
 
 " Why do you not come over, as you used to ? " . . . . 83 
 
 •* Are ye kelpie or pirate ? " 174 
 
 In walked John Paul himself 192 
 
 ** You . . . would sell your daughter and your honour for a 
 
 title 1" 38? 
 
 We might have tossed a biscuit aboard the Serapis . , . 483 
 
 With the first strawberries of the year < . » o . 536 
 
 xiu
 
 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 LIONEL CARVEL, OF CARVEL HALL 
 
 Lionel Carvel, Esq., of Carvel Hall, in the county of Queen 
 Anne, was no inconsiderable man in his Lordship's province 
 of Maryland, and indeed he was not unknown in the colonial 
 capitals from Williamsburg to Boston. When his ships arrived 
 out, in May or June, they made a goodly showing at the 
 wharves, and his captains were ever shrewd men of judgment 
 who sniffed a Frenchman on the horizon, so that none of the 
 Carvel tobacco ever went, in that way, to gladden a Gallic 
 heart. Mr. Carvel's acres were both rich and broad, and his 
 house wide for the stranger who might seek its shelter, as 
 with God's help so it ever shall be. It has yet to be said of 
 the Carvels that their guests are hurried away, or that one, by 
 reason of his worldly goods or position, shall be more welcome 
 than another. 
 
 I take no shame in the pride with which I write of my 
 grandfather, albeit he took the part of his Majesty and Par- 
 liament against the Colonies. He was no palavering turn- 
 coat, like my Uncle Grafton, to cry " God save the King ! " 
 again when an English fleet sailed up the bay. Mr. Carvel's 
 hand was large and his heart was large, and he was respected 
 and even loved by the patriots as a man above paltry sub- 
 terfuge. He was born at Carvel Hall in the year of our Lord 
 1696, when the house was, I am told, but a small dwelling. It 
 was his father, George Carvel, my great-grand sire, reared the 
 present house in the year 1720, of brick brought from England
 
 2 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 as ballast for the empty ships ; he added on, in the years fol- 
 lowing, the wide wings containing the ball-room, and the 
 banquet-hall, and the large library at the eastern end, and the 
 offices. But it was my grandfather who built the great stables 
 and the kennels where he kept his beagles and his fleeter 
 hounds. He dearly loved the saddle and the chase, and taught 
 me to love them too. Many the sharp winter day I have fol- 
 lowed the fox with him over two counties, and lain that night, 
 and a week after, forsooth, at the plantation of some kind 
 friend who was only too glad to receive us. Often, too, have 
 we stood together from early morning until dark night, waist 
 deep, on the duck points, I with a fowling-piece I was all but 
 too young to carry, and brought back a hundred red-heads or 
 canvas-backs in our bags. He went with unfailing regularity 
 to the races at Annapolis or Chestertown or Marlborough, 
 often to see his own horses run, where the coaches of the 
 gentry were fifty and sixty around the course ; where a negro, 
 or a hogshead of tobacco, or a pipe of Madeira was often 
 staked at a single throw. Those times, my children, are not 
 ours, and I thought it not strange that Mr. Carvel should 
 delight in a good main between two cocks, or a bull-baiting, or 
 a breaking of heads at the Chestertown fair, where he went 
 to show his cattle and fling a guinea into the ring for the 
 winner. 
 
 But it must not be thought that Lionel Carvel, your ancestor, 
 was wholly unlettered because he was a sportsman, though it 
 must be confessed that books occupied him only when the 
 weather compelled, or when on his back with the gout. At 
 times he would fain have me read to him as he lay in his great 
 four-post bed with the flowered counterpane, from the Spectator, 
 stopping me now and anon at some awakened memory of his 
 youth. He never forgave Mr. Addison for killing stout, old 
 Sir Roger de Coverley, and would never listen to the butler's 
 account of his death. Mr. Carvel, too, had walked in Gray's 
 Inn Gardens and met adventure at Fox Hall, and seen the 
 great Marlborough himself. He had a fondness for Mr. Con- 
 greve's Comedies, some of which he had seen acted ; and was 
 partial to Mr. Gay's THvia, which brought him many a recol-
 
 LIONEL CARVEL, OF CARVEL HALL 3 
 
 lection. He would also listen to Pope. But of the more mod- 
 ern poetry I think Mr. Gray's Eleyy pleased him best. He 
 would laugh over Swift's gall and wormwood, and would never 
 be brought by my mother to acknowledge the defects in the 
 Dean's character. Why ? He had once met the Dean in a 
 London drawing-room, when my grandfather was a young 
 spark at Christ Church, Oxford., He never tired of relating 
 that interview. The hostess was a very great lady indeed, and 
 actually stood waiting for a word with his Reverence, whose 
 whim it was rather to talk to the young provincial. He was 
 a forbidding figure, in his black gown and periwig, so my 
 grandfather said, with a piercing blue eye and shaggy brow. 
 He made the mighty to come to him, while young Carvel stood 
 between laughter and fear of the great lady's displeasure. 
 
 " I knew of your father," said the Dean, " before he went to 
 the colonies. He had done better at home, sir. He was a man 
 of parts." 
 
 " He has done indifferently well in Maryland, sir," said Mr. 
 Carvel, making his bow. 
 
 " He hath gained wealth, forsooth," says the Dean, wrath- 
 fully, "and might have had both wealth and fame had his 
 love for King James not turned his head. I have heard 
 much of the colonies, and have read that doggerel ' Sot 
 Weed Factor ' which tells of the gluttonous life of ease you 
 lead in your own province. You can have no men of mark 
 from such conditions, Mr, Carvel. Tell me," he adds con- 
 temptuously, "is genius honoured among you?" 
 
 " Eaith, it is honoured, your Reverence," said my grand- 
 father, "but never encouraged." 
 
 This answer so pleased the Dean that he bade Mr. Carvel 
 dine with him next day at Button's Coffee House, where they 
 drank mulled wine and old sack, for which young Mr, Carvel 
 paid. On which occasion his Reverence endeavoured to per- 
 suade the young man to remain in England, and even went so 
 far as to promise his influence to obtain him preferment. But 
 Mr. Carvel chose rather (wisely or not, who can judge?) to 
 come back to Carvel Hall and to the lands of which he was to 
 be master, and to play the country squire and provincial mag-
 
 4 KICHAED CAEVEL 
 
 nate rathar tlian follow the varying fortunes of a political 
 party at home. And he was a man much looked up to in the 
 province before the Revolution, and sat at the council board of 
 his Excellency the Governor, as his father had done before 
 him, and represented the crown in more matters than one 
 when the French and savages were upon our frontiers. 
 
 Although a lover of good cheer, Mr. Carvel was never intem- 
 perate. To the end of his days he enjoyed his bottle after 
 dinner, nay, could scarce get along without it ; and mixed a 
 punch or a posset as well as any in our colony. He chose a 
 good London-brewed ale or porter, and his ships brought 
 Madeira from that island by the pipe, and sack from Spain 
 and Portugal, and red wine from France when there was 
 peace. And puncheons of rum from Ja,maica and the Indies 
 for his people, holding that no gentleman ever drank rum in 
 the raw, though fairly supportable as punch. 
 
 Mr. Carvel's house stands in Marlborough Street, a dreary 
 mansion enough. Praised be Heaven that those who inherit it 
 are not obliged to live there on the memory of what was in 
 days gone by. The heavy green shutters are closed ; the high 
 steps, though stoutly built, are shaky after these years of dis- 
 use ; the host of faithful servants who kept its state are nearly 
 all laid side by side at Carvel Hall. Harvey and Chess and 
 Scipio are no more. The kitchen, whither a boyish hunger oft 
 directed my eyes at twilight, shines not with the welcoming 
 gleam of yore. Chess no longer prepares the dainties which 
 astonished Mr. Carvel's guests, and which he alone could cook. 
 The coach still stands in the stables where Harvey left it, a 
 lumbering relic of those lumbering times when methinks there 
 was more of goodwill and less of haste in the world. The 
 great brass knocker, once resplendent from Scipio's careful 
 hand, no longer fantastically reflects the guest as he beats his 
 tattoo, and Mr. Peale's portrait of my grandfather is gone 
 from the dining-room wall, adorning, as you know, our own 
 drawing-room at Calvert House. 
 
 I shut my eyes, and there comes to me unbidden that dining- 
 room in Marlborough Street of a gray winter's afternoon, when 
 I was but a lad. I see my dear grandfather in his wig and
 
 LIONEL CARVEL, OF CARVEL HALL 5 
 
 silver-laced waistcoat and his blue velvet coat, seated at the 
 head of the table, and the precise Scipio has put down the 
 dumb-waiter filled with shining cut-glass at his left hand, and 
 his wine chest at his right, and with solemn pomp driven his 
 black assistants from the room. Scipio was Mr. Carvel's but- 
 ler. He was forbid to light the candles after dinner. As dark 
 grew on, Mr. Carvel liked the blazing logs for light, and pres- 
 ently sets the decanter on the corner of the table and draws 
 nearer the fire, his guests following. I recall well how jolly 
 Governor Sharpe, who was a frequent visitor with us, was 
 wont to display a comely calf in silk stocking ; and how Cap- 
 tain Daniel Clapsaddle would spread his feet with his toes out, 
 and settle his long pipe between his teeth. And there were 
 besides a host of others who sat at that fire whose names have 
 passed into Maryland's history, — Whig and Tory alike. And 
 I remember a tall slip of a lad who sat listening by the deep- 
 recessed windows on the street, which somehow are always 
 covered in these pictures with a fine rain. Then a coach 
 passes, — a mahogany coach emblazoned with the Manners'a 
 coat of arms, and Mistress Dorothy and her mother within. 
 And my young lady gives me one of those demure bows which 
 ever set my heart agoing like a smith's hammer of a Monday.
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 SOME MEMORIES OF CHILDHOOD 
 
 A TRAVELLER who lias all but gained the last height of tJie 
 great mist-covered mountain looks back over the painful crags 
 he has mastered to where a light is shining on the first easy 
 slope. That light is ever visible, for it is Youth. 
 
 After nigh fourscore and ten years of life that Youth is 
 nearer to me now than many things which befell me later. I 
 recall as yesterday the day Captain Clapsaddle rode to the 
 Hall, his horse covered with sweat, and the reluctant tidings of 
 Captain Jack Carvel's death on his lips. And strangely enough 
 that day sticks in my memory as of delight rather than sadness. 
 When my poor mother had gone up the stairs on my grand- 
 father's arm the strong soldier took me on his knee, and draw- 
 ing his pistol from his holster bade me snap the lock, which I 
 was barely able to do. And he told me wonderful tales of the 
 woods beyond the mountains, and of the painted d en who 
 cracked them; much wilder and fiercer they were than those 
 stray Nanticokes I had seen from time to time near Carvel 
 Hall. And when at last he would go I clung to him, so he 
 swung me to the back of his great horse Ronald, and I seized 
 the bridle in my small hands. The noble beast, Hke his 
 master, loved a child well, and he cantered off lightly at the 
 3aptain's whistle, who cried " bravo " and ran by my side lest 
 [ should fall. Lifting me off at length he kissed me and 
 bade me not to annoy my mother, the tears in his eyes again. 
 And leaping on Ronald was away for the ferry with never so 
 much as a look behind, leaving me standing in the road. 
 
 And from that time I saw more of him and loved him better 
 than any man save my grandfather. He gave me a pony on 
 
 &
 
 SOME MEMOEIES OF CHILDHOOD 7 
 
 my next birthday, and a little hogskin saddle made especially 
 by Master Wythe, the Loudon saddler in the town, with a 
 silver-mounted bridle. Indeed, rarely did the captain return 
 from one of his long journeys without something for me and a 
 handsome present for my mother. Mr. Carvel would have had 
 him make his home with us when we were in town, but this he 
 would not do. He lodged in Church Street, over against the 
 Coffee House, dining at that hostelry when not bidden out, or 
 when not with us. He was much sought after. I believe 
 there was scarce a man of note in any of the colonies not num- 
 bered among his friends. 'Twas said he loved my mother, 
 and could never come to care for any other woman, and he 
 promised my father in the forests to look after her welfare and 
 mine. This promise, you shall see, he faithfully kept. 
 
 Though you have often heard from my lips the story of my 
 mother, I must for the sake of those who are to come after you, 
 set it down here as briefly as I may. My grandfather's bark 
 Charming Sally, Captain Stanwix, having set out from Bristol 
 on the 15th of April, 1736, with a fair wind astern an(J. a full 
 cargo of English goods below, near the Madeiras fell in with 
 foul weather, which increased as she entered the trades. 
 Captain Stanwix being a prudent man, shortened sail, knowing 
 the harbour of Funchal to be but a shallow bight in the rock, 
 and worse than the open sea in a southeaster. The third d^j.^ ^^ 
 hove the Salhj to ; being a stout craft and not overladen she 
 weathered the gale with the loss of a jib, and was about mak- 
 ing topsails again when a full-rigged ship was descried in the 
 offing giving signals of distress. Night was coming on very 
 fast, and the sea was yet running too high for a boat to live, 
 but the gallant captain furled his topsails once more to await 
 the morning. It could be seen from her signals that the ship 
 was living throughout the night, but at dawn she foundered 
 before the Salb/s boats could be put in the water; one of 
 them was ground to pieces on the falls. Out of the ship's 
 company and passengers they picked up but five souls, four 
 sailors and a little girl of two years or thereabouts. The men 
 knew nothing more of her than that she had come aboard at 
 Brest with her mother, a quiet, delicate lady who spoke little
 
 8 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 with the other passengers. The ship was La Favourite du 
 Boy, bound for the French Indies. 
 
 Captain Stanwix's wife, who was a good, motherly person, 
 took charge of the little orphan, and arriving at Carvel Hall 
 delivered her to my grandfather, who brought her up as his 
 own daughter. You may be sure the emblem of Catholicism 
 found upon her was destroyed, and she was baptized straight- 
 way by Doctor Hilliard, my grandfather's chaplain, into the 
 Established Church. Her clothes were of the finest quality, 
 and her little handkerchief had worked into the corner of it a 
 ooronet, with the initials " E de T " beside it. Around her 
 neck was that locket with the gold chain which I have so often 
 shown you, on one side of which is the miniature of the young 
 officer in his most Christian Majesty's uniform, and on the 
 other a yellow-faded slip of paper with these words : " Elle est 
 la mienne, quoiqu'elle ne porte pas mon nom." " She is mine, 
 although she does not bear my name." 
 
 My grandfather wrote to the owners of La Favourite du Roy, 
 and likewise directed his English agent to spare nothing in 
 the search for some clew to the child's identity. All that he 
 found was that the mother had been entered on the passenger- 
 list as Madame la Farge, of Paris, and was bound for Marti- 
 nico. Of the father there was no trace whatever. The name 
 " la Farge " the agent, Mr. Dix, knew almost to a certainty was 
 assumed, and the coronet on the handkerchief implied that 
 the child was of noble parentage. The meaning conveyed by 
 the paper in the locket, which was plainly a clipping from a 
 letter, was such that Mr. Carvel never showed it to my mother, 
 and would have destroyed it had he not felt that some day it 
 might aid in solving the mystery. So he kept it in his strong- 
 box, where he thought it safe from prying eyes. But my Uncle 
 Grafton, ever a deceitful lad, at length discovered the key and 
 read the paper, and afterwards used the knowledge he thus 
 obtained as a reproach and a taunt against my mother. I can- 
 not even now write his name without repulsion. 
 
 This new member of the household was renamed Elizabeth 
 Carvel, though they called her Bess, and of a course she was 
 greatly petted and spoiled, and ruled all those about her. As
 
 SOME MEl\rORIES OE CHILDHOOD 9 
 
 she grew from childhood to womanhood her beauty became 
 talked about, and afterwards, when Mistress Carvel went to 
 the Assembly, a dozen young sparks would crowd about the 
 door of her coach, and older and more serious men lost their 
 heads on her account. 
 
 Her devotion to Mr. Carvel was such, however, that she 
 seemed to care but little for the attention she received, and 
 she continued to grace his board and entertain his company. 
 He fairly worshipped her. It was his delight to surprise her 
 with presents from England, with rich silks and brocades for 
 gowns, for he loved to see her bravely dressed. The spinet he 
 gave her, inlaid with ivory, we have still. And he caused a 
 chariot to be made for her in London, and she had her own 
 horses and her groom in the Carvel livery. 
 
 People said it was but natural that she should fall in love 
 with Captain Jack, my father. He was the soldier of the 
 family, tall and straight and dashing. He differed from his 
 S^ounger brother Grafton as day from night. Captain Jack 
 tvas open and generous, though a little given to rash enterprise 
 and madcap adventure. He loved my mother from a child. 
 His friend Captain Clapsaddle loved her too, and likewise 
 Grafton, but it soon became evident that she would marry 
 Captain Jack or nobody. He was my grandfather's favourite, 
 and though Mr. Carvel had wished him more serious, his joy 
 when Bess blushingly told him the news was a pleasure to see. 
 And Grafton turned to revenge ; he went to Mr. Carvel with 
 the paper he had taken from the strong-box and claimed that 
 my mother was of spurious birth and not fit to marry a Carvel. 
 He afterwards spread the story secretly among the friends of 
 the family. By good fortune little harm arose therefrom, since 
 all who knew my mother loved her, and were willing to give 
 her credit for the doubt; many, indeed, thought the story 
 sprang from Grafton's jealousy and hatred. Then it was that 
 Mr. Carvel gave to Grafton the estate in Kent County and 
 bade him shift for himself, saying that he washed his hands 
 of a son who had acted such a part. 
 
 But Captain Clapsaddle came to the wedding in the long 
 drawing-room at the Hall and stood by Captain Jack when he
 
 10 RICHAED (JAEVEL 
 
 was married, and kissed the bride heartily. And my mothei 
 cried about this afterwards, and said that it grieved her sorely 
 that she should have given pain to such a noble man. 
 
 After the blow which left her a widow, she continued to 
 keep Mr. Carvel's home. I recall her well, chiefly as a sad and 
 beautiful woman, stately save when she kissed me with passion 
 and said that I bore my father's look. She drooped like the 
 flower she was, and one spring day my grandfather led me to 
 receive her blessing and to be folded for the last time in those 
 dear arms. With a smile on her lips she rose to heaven to 
 meet my father. And she lies buried with the rest of the 
 Carvels at the Hall, next to the brave captain, her husband. 
 
 And so I grew up with my grandfather, spending the winters 
 in town and the long summers on the Eastern Shore. I loved 
 the country best, and the old house with its hundred feet of 
 front standing on the gentle slope rising from the river's mouth, 
 the green vines Mr. Carvel had fetched from England all but 
 hiding the brick, and climbing to the angled roof; and the 
 velvet green lawn of silvery grass brought from England, de- 
 scending gently terrace by terrace to the waterside, where lay 
 our pungies and barges. There was then a tiny pillared porch 
 framing the front door, for our ancestors never could be got to 
 realize the Maryland climate, and would rarely build them- 
 selves wide verandas suitable to that colony. At Carvel Hall 
 we had, to be sure, the cool spring house under the willows foi 
 sultry days, with its pool dished out for bathing ; and a trel- 
 lised arbour, and octagonal summer house with seats where my 
 mother was wont to sit sewing while my grandfather dreamed 
 over his pipe. On the lawn stood the oaks and walnuts and 
 sycamores which still cast their shade over it, and under them 
 of a summer's evening Mr. Carvel would have his tea alone ; 
 save oftentimes when a barge would come swinging up the 
 river with ten velvet-capped blacks at the oars, and one of our 
 friendly neighbours — Mr, Lloyd or Mr. Bordley, or perchance 
 little Mr. Manners — would stop for a long evening with him. 
 They seldom came without their ladies and children. What 
 romps we youngsters had about the old place whilst our elders 
 talked their politics.
 
 ia^;Olni^ PW^;;^,'-* 
 
 One fifteenth of June
 
 SOME MEMORIES OF CHILDHOOD 11 
 
 In childhood the season which delighted me the most was 
 spring, I would count the days until St. Taminas, which, as 
 you know, falls on the first of May. And the old custom was 
 for the young men to deck themselves out as Indian bucks and 
 sweep down on the festivities around the Maypole on the town 
 green, or at night to surprise the guests at a ball and force the 
 gentlemen to pay down a shilling, and sometimes a crown 
 apiece, and the host to give them a bowl of punch. Then came 
 June. My grandfather celebrated his Majesty's birthday in 
 his own jolly fashion, and I had my own birthday party on the 
 tenth. And on the fifteenth, unless it chanced upon a Sunday, 
 my grandfather never failed to embark in his pinnace at the 
 Annapolis dock for the Hall. Once seated in the stern be- 
 tween Mr. Carvel's knees, what rapture when at last we shot 
 out into the blue waters of the bay and I thought of the long 
 summer of joy before me. Scipio was generalissimo of these 
 arrangements, and was always at the dock punctually at ten to 
 hand my grandfather in, a ceremony in which he took great 
 pride, and to look his disapproval should we be late. As he 
 turned over the key of the town house he would walk away 
 with a stern dignity to marshal the other servants in the 
 horse-boat. 
 
 One fifteenth of June two children sat with bated breath in 
 the pinnace, — Dorothy Manners and myself. Mistress Dolly 
 was then as mischievous a little baggage as ever she proved 
 afterwards. She was coming to pass a week at the Hall, 
 her parents, whose place was next to ours, having gone to 
 Philadelphia on a visit. We rounded Kent Island, which lay 
 green and beautiful in the flashing waters, and at length 
 caught sight of the old windmill, with its great arms majesti- 
 cally turning, and the cupola of Carvel House shining white 
 among the trees ; and of the upper spars of the shipping, with 
 sails neatly furled, lying at the long wharves, where the Eng- 
 lish wares Mr. Carvel had commanded for the return trips 
 were unloading. Scarce was the pinnace brought into the 
 wind before I had leaped ashore and greeted with a shout the 
 Hall servants drawn up in a line on the green, grinning a wel- 
 come. Dorothy arid I scampered over the grass and into the
 
 12 ■ RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 cool, wide house, resting awhile on the easy sloping steps 
 within, hand in hand. And then away for that grand tour of 
 inspection we had been so long planning together. How well 
 I recall that sunny afternoon, when the shadows of the great 
 oaks were just beginning to lengthen. Through the green- 
 houses we marched, monarchs of all we surveyed, old Porphery, 
 the gardener, presenting Mistress Dolly with a crown of orange 
 blossoms, for which she thanked him with a pretty courtesy her 
 gOF^rness had taught her. Were we not king and queen re- 
 turned to our summer palace ? And Spot and Silver and Song 
 and Knipe, the wolf-hound, were our train, though not as 
 decorous as rigid etiquette demanded, since they were forever 
 running after the butterflies. On we went through the stiff, 
 box-bordered walks of the garden, past the weather-beaten sun- 
 dial and the spinning-house and the smoke-house to the stables. 
 Here old Harvey, who had taught me to ride Captain Daniel's 
 pony, is equerry, and young Harvey our personal attendant ; 
 old Harvey smiles as we go in and out of the stalls rubbing 
 the noses of our trusted friends, and gives a gruff but kindly 
 warning as to Cassandra's heels. He recalls my father at the 
 same age. 
 
 Jonas Tree, the carpenter, sits sunning himself on his bench 
 before the shop, but mysteriously disappears when he sees us, 
 and returns presently with a little ship he has fashioned for 
 me that winter, all complete Avith spars and sails, for Jonas 
 was a shipwright on the Severn in the old country before he 
 came as a king's passenger to the new. Dolly and I are off 
 directly to the backwaters of the river, where the new boat is 
 launched with due ceremony as the Conqueror, his Majesty's 
 latest ship-of-the-line. Jonas himself trims her sails, and she 
 sets off right gallantly across the shallows, heeling to the 
 breeze for all the world like a real man-o'-war. Then the King 
 would fain cruise at once against the French, but Queen Doro- 
 thy must needs go with him. His Majesty points out that 
 when fighting is to be done, a ship of war is no place for a 
 woman, whereat her Majesty stamps her little foot and throws 
 her crown of orange blossoms from her, and starts off for the 
 milk-house in high dudgeon, vowing she will play no more.
 
 SOME MEMORIES OF CHILDHOOD 13 
 
 And it ends as it ever will end, be the children young or old, 
 for the French pass from his Majesty's mind and he runs after 
 his consort to implore forgiveness, leaving poor Jonas to take 
 care of the Conqueror. 
 
 How short those summer days ! All too short for the girl 
 and boy who had so much to do in them. The sun rising over 
 the forest often found us peeping through the blinds, and when 
 he sank into the bay at night we were still running, tired but 
 happy, and begging patient Hester for half an hour more. 
 
 "Lawd, Marse Dick," I can hear her say, "you an' Miss 
 Dolly's been on yo' feet since de dawn. And so's I, honey." 
 
 And so we had. We would spend whole days on the wharves, 
 all bustle and excitement, sometimes seated on the capstan of 
 the Sprightly Bess or perched in the nettings of the Oriole, of 
 which ship old Stanwix was now captain. He liad grown gray 
 in Mr. Carvel's service, and good Mrs. Stanwix was long since 
 dead. Often we would mount together on the little horse 
 Captain Daniel had given me, Dorothy on a pillion behind, 
 to go with my grandfather to inspect the farm. Mr. Starkie, 
 the overseer, would ride beside us, his fowling-piece slung 
 over his shoulder and his holster on his hip ; a kind man 
 and capable, and unlike Mr. Evans, my Uncle Grafton's over- 
 seer, was seldom known to use his firearms or the rawhide 
 slung across his saddle. The negroes in their linsey-woolsey 
 iackets and checked trousers would stand among the hills 
 grinning at us children as we passed; and there was not one 
 of them, nor of the white servants for that matter, that I could 
 not call by name. 
 
 And all this time I was busily wooing Mistress Dolly ; but 
 she, little minx, would give me no satisfaction. I see her 
 standing among the strawberries, her black hair waving in the 
 wind, and her red lips redder still from the stain. And the 
 sound of her childish voice comes back to me now after all 
 these years. And this was my first proposal : — 
 
 " Dorothy, when you grow up and I groAV up, you will marry 
 me, and I shall give you all these strawberries." 
 
 " I will marry none but a soldier," says she, " and a great 
 man."
 
 14 EICHAED CAKVEL 
 
 " Then will I be a soldier," I cried, " and greater than the 
 Governor himself." And I believed it. 
 
 " Papa says I shall marry an earl," retorts Dorothy, with a 
 toss of her pretty head. 
 
 "There are no earls among us," I exclaimed hotly, for even 
 then I had some of that sturdy republican spirit which prevailed 
 among the younger generation. " Our earls are those who have 
 made their own way, like my grandfather." For I had lately 
 heard Captain Clapsaddle say this and much more on the sub- 
 ject. But Dorothy turned up her nose. 
 
 "I shall go home when I am eighteen," she said, "and I 
 shall meet his Majesty the King." 
 
 And to such an argument I found no logical answer. 
 
 Mr. Marmaduke Manners and his lady came to fetch Dorothy 
 home. He was a foppish little gentleman who thought more 
 of the cut of his waistcoat than of the affairs of the province, 
 and would rather have been bidden to lead the assembly bah 
 than to sit in council with his Excellency the Governor. My 
 first recollection of him is of contempt. He must needs have 
 his morning punch just so, and complained whiningly of Scipio 
 if some perchance were spilled on the glass. He must needs 
 be taken abroad in a chair when it rained. And though in 
 the course of a summer he was often at Carvel Hall he never 
 tarried long, and came to see Mr. Carvel's guests rather than 
 Mr. Carvel. He had little in common with my grandfather, 
 whose chief business and pleasure was to promote industry on 
 his farm. Mr. Marmaduke was wont to rise at noon, and knew 
 not wheat from barley, or good leaf from bad ; his hands he 
 kept like a lady's, rendering them almost useless by the long 
 lace on the sleeves, and his chief pastime was card-playing. 
 It was but reasonable therefore, when the troubles with the 
 mother country began, that he chose the King's side alike from 
 indolence and contempt for things republican. 
 
 Of Mrs. Manners I shall say more by and by. 
 
 I took a mischievous delight in giving Mr. Manners every 
 annoyance my boyish fancy could conceive. The evening of 
 his arrival he and Mr. Carvel set out for a stroll about the 
 house, Mr. Marmaduke mincing his steps, for it had rained that
 
 SOME MEMOKIES OF CHILDHOOD 15 
 
 ■jnorning. And presently they came upon the windmill with 
 its long arms moving lazily in the liglit breeze, near touching 
 the ground as they passed, for the mill was built in the Dutch 
 fashion. I know not what moved me, but hearing Mr. Manners 
 carelessly humming a minuet while my grandfather explained 
 the usefulness of the mill, I seized hold of one of the long arms 
 as it swung by, and before the gentlemen could prevent was 
 carried slowly upwards. Dorothy screamed, and her father 
 stood stock still with amazement and fear, Mr. Carvel being 
 the only one who kept his presence of mind. " Hold on tight, 
 Richard!" I heard him cry. It was dizzy riding, though the 
 motion was not great, and before I had reached the right angle 
 I regretted my rashness. I caught a glimpse of the Bay with 
 the red sun on it, and as I turned saw far below me the white 
 figure of Ivie Rawlinson, the Scotch miller, who had run out. 
 " haith ! " he shouted. " Hand fast, Mr. Richard ! " And so 
 I clung tightly and came down without much inconvenience, 
 though indifferently glad to feel the ground again. 
 
 Mr. Marmaduke, as I expected, was in a great temper, and 
 swore he had not had such a fright for years. He looked for 
 Mr. Carvel to cane me stoutly. But Ivie laughed heartily, and 
 said : " I wad ye'll gang far for anither laddie wi' the spunk, 
 Mr. Manners," and with a sly look at my grandfather, " Ilka 
 day we hae some sic whigmeleery." 
 
 I think Mr. Carvel was not ill pleased with the feat, or with 
 Mr. Marmaduke's way of taking it. For afterwards I over- 
 heard him telling the story to Colonel Lloyd, and both gentle- 
 men laughing over Mr. Manners's discomfiture.
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 CAUGHT BY THE TIDE 
 
 It is a nigh impossible task on the memory to trace those 
 influences by which a lad is led to form his life's opinions, 
 and for my part I hold that such things are bred into the bone, 
 and that events only serve to strengthen them. In this way 
 only can I account for my bitterness, at a very early age 
 against that King whom my seeming environment should have 
 made me love. For my grandfather was as stanch a royalist 
 as ever held a cup to majesty's health. And children are most 
 apt before they can reason for themselves to take the note 
 from those of their elders who surround them. It is true that 
 many of Mr. Carvel's guests were of the opposite persuasion 
 from him : Mr. Chase and Mr. Carroll, Mr. Lloyd and Mr. 
 Bordley, and many others, including our friend Captain Clap- 
 ' saddle. And these gentlemen were frequently in argument 
 but political discussion is Greek to a lad. 
 
 Mr. Carvel, as I have said, was most of his life a member of 
 the Council, a man from whom both Governor Sharpe and 
 Governor Eden were glad to take advice because of his tem- 
 perate judgment and deep knoAvledge of the people of the 
 province. At times, when his Council was scattered. Gov- 
 ernor Sharpe would consult Mr. Carvel alone, and often have 
 I known my grandfather to embark in haste from the Hall in 
 response to a call from his Excellency. 
 
 'Twas in the latter part of August, in the year 1765, made 
 memorable by the Stamp Act, that I first came in touch with 
 the deep-set feelings of the times then beginning, and I count 
 from that year the awakening of the sympathy which deter- 
 mined my career. One sultry day I was wading in the shal- 
 
 16
 
 CAUGHT BY THE TIDE 17 
 
 lows after crabs, when the Governor's messenger came drifting 
 in, all impatience at the lack of wind. He ran to the house to 
 seek Mr. Carvel, and I after him, with all a boy's curiosity, as 
 fast as my small legs would carry me. My grandfather hur- 
 ried out to order his barge to be got ready at once, so that I 
 knew something important was at hand. At first he refused 
 me permission to go, but afterwards relented, and about eleven 
 in the morning we pulled away strongly, the ten blacks bending 
 to the oars as if their lives were at stake. 
 
 A wind arose before we sighted Greensbury Point, and I saw 
 a bark sailing in, but thought nothing of this until Mr. Carvel, 
 who had been silent and preoccupied, called for his glass and 
 swept her decks. She soon shortened sail, and went so lei- 
 surely that presently our light barge drew alongside, and I 
 perceived Mr. Zachariah Hood, a merchant of the town, return- 
 ing from London, hanging over her rail. Mr. Hood was very 
 pale in spite of his sea-voyage; he flung up his cap at our 
 boat, but Mr. Carvel's salute in return was colder than he 
 looked for. As we came in view of the dock, a fine rain was 
 setting in, and to my astonishment I beheld such a mass of 
 people assembled as I had never seen, and scarce standing- 
 room on the wharves. We were to have gone to the Governor's 
 wharf in the Severn, but my grandfather changed his intention 
 at once. Many of the crowd greeted him as we drew near 
 them, and, having landed, respectfully made room for him to 
 pass through. I followed him a-tremble with excitement and 
 delight over such an unwonted experience. We had barely 
 gone ten paces, however, before Mr. Carvel stopped abreast of 
 Mr. Claude, mine host of the Coffee House, who cried : — 
 
 "Hast seen his Majesty's newest representative, Mr. Car- 
 vel ? " 
 
 " Mr. Hood is on board the bark, sir," replied my grand- 
 father. "I take it you mean Mr. Hood." 
 
 " Ay, that I do ; Mr. Zachariah Hood, come to lick stamps 
 for his brother-colonists." 
 
 "After licking his Majesty's boots," says a wag near by, 
 which brings a laugh from those about us. I remembered that 
 I had heard some talk as to how Mr. Hood had sought and 
 o
 
 18 RICHAED CARVEL 
 
 obtained from King George the office of Stamp Distributor 
 for the province. Now, my grandfather, God rest him ! was 
 as doughty an old gentleman as might well be, and would not 
 listen without protest to remarks which bordered sedition. He 
 had little fear of things below, and none of a mob. 
 
 " My masters." he shouted, with a flourish of his stick, so 
 stoutly that people fell back from him, "know that ye are 
 met against the law, and endanger the peace of his Lordship's 
 government." 
 
 " Good enough, Mr. Carvel," said Claude, who seemed to be 
 the spokesman. " But how if we are stamped against law a^nd 
 his Lordship's government? How then, sir? Your honour 
 well knows we have naught against either, and are as peaceful 
 a mob as ever assembled." 
 
 This brought on a great laugh, and they shouted from all 
 sides, " How then, Mr. Carvel ? " And my grandfather, per- 
 ceiving that he would lose dignity by argument, and having 
 done his duty by a protest, was wisely content with that. 
 They opened wider the lane for him to pass through, and he 
 made his way, erect and somewhat defiant, to Mr. Pryse's, the 
 coachmaker opposite, holding me by the hand. The second 
 storey of Pryse's shop had a little balcony standing out in 
 front, and here we established ourselves, that we might watch 
 what was going forward. 
 
 The crowd below grew strangely silent as the bark came 
 nearer and nearer, until Mr. Hood showed himself on the 
 poop, when there rose a storm of hisses, mingled with shouts 
 of derision. "How goes it at St. James, Mr. Hood?" and 
 " Have you tasted his Majesty's barley ? " And some asked 
 him if he was come as their member of Parliament. Mr. Hood 
 dropped a bow, though what he said was drowned. The bark 
 came in prettily enough, men in the crowd even catching her 
 Anes and making them fast to the piles. A gang-plank was 
 thrown over. "Come out, Mr. Hood," they cried; "we are 
 here to do you honour, and to welcome you home again." 
 There were leather breeches with staves a-plenty around that 
 plank, and faces that meant no trifling. " McISTeir, the rogue," 
 exclaimed Mr, Carvel, "and that hulk of a tanner, Brown.
 
 CAUGHT BY THE TIDE 19 
 
 And I would know those smith's shoulders in a thousand." 
 "Right, sir," says Fryse, "and 'twill serve them proper when 
 the King's troops come among them for quartering." The 
 gentry being Pryse's patrons, he shaped his politics according 
 to the company he was in : he could ill be expected to seize 
 one of his own ash spokes and join the resistance. Just then 
 I caught a glimpse of Captain Clapsaddle on the skirts of the 
 crowd, and with him Mr. Swain and some of the dissenting 
 gentry. And my boyish wrath burst forth against that man 
 smirking and smiling on the decks of the bark, so that I shouted 
 shrilly : " Mr. Hood will be cudgelled and tarred as he de- 
 serves," and shook my little fist at him, so that many under us 
 laughed and cheered me. Mr. Carvel pushed me back into the 
 window and out of their sight. 
 
 The crew of the bark had assembled on the quarterdeck, 
 stout English tars every man of them, armed with pikes and 
 belaying-pins ; and at a word from the mate they rushed in 
 a body over the plank. Some were thrust off into the water, 
 but so fierce was their onset that others gained the wharf, 
 laying sharply about them in all directions, but getting full as 
 many knocks as they gave. For a space there was a very 
 bedlam of cries and broken heads, those behind in the mob 
 surging forward to reach the scrimmage, forcing their own 
 comrades over the edge. McNeir had his thigh broken by a 
 pike, and was dragged back after the first rush was over; and 
 the mate of the bark Avas near to drowning, being rescued, 
 indeed, by Graham, the tanner. Mr. Hood stood white in the 
 gangway, dodging a missile now and then, waiting his chance, 
 which never came. For many of the sailors were captured 
 and carried bodily to the " Rose and Crown " and the " Three 
 Blue Balls," where they became properly drunk on Jamaica 
 rum ; others made good their escape on board. And at length 
 the bark cast off again, amidst jeers and threats, and one-third 
 of her crew missing, and drifted slowly back to the roads. 
 
 From the dock, after all was quiet, Mr. Carvel stepped into 
 his barge and rowed to the Governor's, whose house was 
 prettily situated near Hanover Street, with ground running 
 down to the Severn. His Excellency appeared much relieved
 
 20 RICHAED CARVEL 
 
 to see my grandfather ; Mr. Daniel Dulany was with him, and 
 the three gentlemen at once repaired to the Governor's writing- 
 closet for consultation. 
 
 Mr. Carvel's town house being closed, we stopped with his 
 Excellency. There were, indeed, scarce any of the gentry in 
 town at that season save a few of the Whig persuasion. Excite- 
 ment ran very high ; farmers flocked in every day from the 
 country round about to take part in the demonstration against 
 the Act. Mr. Hood's storehouse was burned to the ground. 
 Mr. Hood getting ashore by stealth, came, however, unmolested 
 to Annapolis and offered at a low price the goods he had 
 brought out in the bark, thinking thus to propitiate his ene- 
 mies. This step but inflamed them the more. 
 
 My grandfather having much business to look to, I was left 
 to my own devices, and the devices of an impetuous lad of 
 twelve are not always such as his elders would choose for him. 
 I was continually burning with a desire to see what was pro- 
 ceeding in the town, and hearing one day a great clamour and 
 tolling of bells, I ran out of the Governor's gate and down 
 Northwest Street to the Circle, where a strange sight met 
 my eyes. A crowd like that I had seen on the dock had col- 
 lected there, Mr. Swain and Mr. Hammond and other barristers 
 holding them in check. Mounted on a one-horse cart was 
 a stuffed figure of the detested Mr. Hood. INIr. Hammond 
 made a speech, but for the laughter and cheering I could not 
 catch a word of it. I pushed through the people, as a boy 
 will, diving between legs to get a better view, when I felt a 
 hand upon my shoulder, bringing me up suddenly. And I 
 recognized Mr. Matthias Tilghman^ and with him was Mr. 
 Samuel Chase. 
 
 " Does your grandfather know you are here, lad ? " said 
 Mr. Tilghman. 
 
 I paused a moment for breath before I answered : " He 
 attended the rally at the dock himself, sir, and I believe 
 enjoyed it." 
 
 Both gentlemen smiled, and Mr. Chase remarked that if all 
 the other party were like Mr. Carvel, troubles would soon cease. 
 " I mean not Grafton/' says he, with a wink at Mr. Tilghman.
 
 CAUGHT BY THE TIDE 21 
 
 "I'll warrant, Richard, your uncle would be but ill pleased to 
 see you in such company." 
 
 "Nay, sir," I replied, for I never feared to speak up, "there 
 are you wrong. I think it would please my uncle mightily." 
 
 " The lad hath indifferent penetration," said Mr. Tilghman, 
 laughing, and adding more soberly : " If you never do worse 
 than this, Richard, Maryland may some day be proud of you." 
 
 Mr. Hammond having finished his 3peech, a paper was placed 
 in the hand of the effigy, and the crowd bore it shouting 
 and singing to the hill, where Mr. John Shaw, the city 
 carpenter, had made a gibbet. There nine and thirty lashes 
 were bestowed on the unfortunate image, the people crying out 
 that this was the Mosaic Law. And I cried as loud as any, 
 though I knew not the meaning of the words. They hung 
 Mr. Hood to the gibbet and set fire to a tar barrel under him, 
 and so left him. 
 
 The town wore a holiday look that day, and I was loth to 
 go back to the Governor's house. Good patriots' shops were 
 closed, their owners parading as on Sunday in their best, paus- 
 ing in knots at every corner to discuss the affair with which 
 the town simmered. I encountered old Farris, the clockmaker, 
 in hfs brown coat besprinkled behind with powder from his 
 queue. "How now, Master Richard?" says he, merrily. 
 <' This is no place for young gentlemen of your persuasion." 
 
 Next I came upon young Dr. Courtenay, the wit of the 
 Tuesday Club, of whom I shall have more to say hereafter. 
 He was taking the air with Mr. James Eotheringay, Will's 
 eldest brother, but lately back from Oxford and the Temple. 
 The doctor wore five-pound ruffles and a ten-pound wig, was 
 dressed in cherry silk, and carried a long, clouded cane. His 
 hat had the latest cock, for he was our macaroni of Annapolis. 
 " Egad, Richard," he cries, " you are the only other loyalist 
 I have seen abroad to-day." 
 
 I remember swelling with indignation at the affront. "I 
 call them Tories, sir," I flashed back, " and I am none such." 
 " No Tory ! " says he, nudging Mr. Fotheringay, who was with 
 him; "I had as lief believe your grandfather hated King 
 George." I astonished them both by retorting that Mr. Carvel
 
 22 EICHARD CARVEL 
 
 might think as he pleased, that being every man's right ; but 
 that I chose to be a Whig. " I would tell you as a friend, 
 young man," replied the doctor, " that thy politics are not over 
 politic." And they left me puzzling, laughing with much 
 relish over some catch in the doctor's words. As for me, I 
 could perceive no humour in them. 
 
 It was now near six of the clock, out instead of going direct 
 to the Governor's I made my way down Church Street toward 
 the water. Near the dock i saw many people gathered in the 
 street in front of the " Ship " tavern, a time-honoured resort 
 much patronized by sailors. My curiosity led me to halt 
 there also. The *' Ship " had stood in that place nigh on to 
 three-score years, it was said. Its latticed windows were 
 swung open, and from within came snatches of " Tom Bow- 
 ling," "Rule Britannia," and many songs scarce fit for a 
 child to hear. Now and anon some one in the street would 
 throw back a taunt to these British sentiments, which went 
 unheeded. "They be drunk as lords," said Weld, the butcher's 
 apprentice, "and when they comes out we'll hev more than 
 one broken head in this street." The songs continuing, he 
 cried again, " Come out, d — n ye." Weld had had more than 
 his own portion of rum that day. Spying me seated (!fii the 
 gate-post opposite, he shouted: "So ho. Master Carvel, the 
 streets are not for his Majesty's supporters to-day." Other 
 artisans who were there bade him leave me in peace, saying 
 that my grandfather was a good friend of the people. The 
 matter might have ended there had I been older and wiser, 
 but the excitement of the day had gone to my head like wine. 
 " I am as stout a patriot as you. Weld," I shouted back, and 
 flushed at the cheering that followed. And Weld ran up to 
 me, and though I was a good piece of a lad, swung me lightly 
 onto his shoulder. "Harkee, Master Richard," he said, "I 
 can get nothing out of the poltroons by shouting. Do you go 
 in and say that Weld will fight any mother's son of them 
 single-handed." 
 
 " For shame, to send a lad into a tavern," said old Robbins, 
 who had known my grandfather these many years. But the 
 desire for a row was so great among the rest that they silenced
 
 CAUGHT BY THE TIDE 23 
 
 him. Weld set me down, and I, nothing loth, ran through the 
 open door. 
 
 I had never before been in the " Ship," nor, indeed, in any 
 tavern save that of Master Dingley, near Carvel Hall. The 
 " Ship " was a bare place enough, with low black beams and 
 sanded floor, and rough tables and chairs set about. On that 
 September evening it was stifling hot ; and the odours from the 
 men, and the t^pilled rum and tobacco smoke, well-nigh over- 
 powered me. The room was filled with a motley gang of 
 sailors, mostly from the bark Mr. Hcod had come on, and 
 some from H.M.J-.-. Ilmvk, then lying in the harbour. 
 
 A strapping man-o'-war's-man sat near the door, his jacket 
 thrown open and his great chest bared, and when he perceived 
 me he was in the act of proposing a catch ; 'twas " The Great 
 Bell o' Lincoln," I believe ; and he held a brimming cup of 
 bumbo in his hand. In his surprise he set it awkwardly down 
 again, thereby spilling full half of it. "Avast," says he, with 
 an oath, " what's this come among us ? " and he looked me 
 over with a comical eye. "A d — d provincial," he went on 
 scornfully, "but a gentleman's son, or Jack Ball's a liar." 
 Whereupon his companions rcoe from their seats and crowded 
 round me. More than one reeled against me. And though I 
 was somewhat awed by the strangeness of that dark, ill-smell- 
 ing room, and by the rough company in which I found myself, 
 I held my ground, and spoke up as strongly as I might. 
 
 "Weld, the butcher's apprentice, bids me say he will fight 
 any man among you single-handed." 
 
 "So ho, my little gamecock, my little schooner with a 
 swivel," said he who had called himself Jack Ball, " and where 
 can this valiant butcher be found ? " 
 
 "He waits in the street," I answered more boldly. 
 
 " Split me fore and aft if he waits long," said Jack, drainl-ag 
 the rest of his rum. And picking me up as easily as did Weld 
 he rushed out of the door, and after him as many of his mates 
 as could walk or stagger thither. 
 
 In the meantime the news had got abroad in the street that 
 the butcher's apprentice was to fight one of the Hciwlc's men, 
 and when I emerged from the tavern the crowd had doubled^
 
 24 RICHAED CAEVEL 
 
 and people were running hither in all haste from both direc- 
 tions. But that fight was never to be. Big Jack Ball had 
 scarce set me down and shouted a loud defiance, shaking his 
 fist at Weld, who stood out opposite, when a soldierly man on 
 a great horse turned the corner and wheeled between the com- 
 batants. I knew at a glance it was Captain Clapsaddle, and 
 guiltily wished myself at the Governor's. The townspeople 
 knew him likewise, and many were slinking away even before 
 he spoke, as his charger stood pawing the ground. 
 
 " What's this I hear, you villain," said he to Weld, in his 
 deep, ringing voice, " that you have not only provoked a row 
 with one of the King's sailors, but have dared send a child 
 into that tavern with your fool's message ? " 
 
 Weld was awkward and sullen enough, and no words came 
 to him. 
 
 ^^ Your tongue, you sot," the captain went on, drawing his 
 sword in his anger, " is it true you have made use of a gen- 
 tleman's son for your low purposes ? " 
 
 But Weld was still silent, and not a sound came from either 
 side until old Eobbins spoke up. 
 
 " There are many here can say I warned him, your honour," 
 he said. 
 
 " Warned him ! " cried the captain. " Mr. Carvel has just 
 given you twenty pounds for your wife, and you warned 
 him ! " 
 
 Eobbins said no more; and the butcher's apprentice, hang- 
 ing his head, as well he might before the captain, I was much 
 moved to pity for him, seeing that my forwardness had in 
 some sense led him on. 
 
 "'Twas in truth my fault, captain," I cried out. The 
 captain looked at me, and said nothing. After that the 
 butcher made bold to take up his man's defence. 
 
 "Master Carvel was indeed somewhat to blame, sii'," said 
 he, " and Weid is in liquor." 
 
 " And I'll have him to pay for his drunkenness," said Cap- 
 tain Clapsaddle, hotly. *•' Get to your homes," he cried. " Ye 
 are a lot of idle hounds, who would make liberty the excuse 
 for riot." He waved his sword at the pack of them, and they
 
 CAUGHT BY THE TIDE 25 
 
 scattered like sheep until none but Weld was left. " And as 
 for you, Weld," he continued, " you'll rue this pretty business, 
 or Daniel Clapsaddle never punished a cut-throat." And 
 turning to Jack Ball, he bade him lift me to the saddle, and so 
 I rode with him to the Governor's without a word ; for I knew 
 better than to talk when he was in that mood. 
 
 The captain was made to tarry and sup with his Excellency 
 and my grandfather, and I sat perforce a fourth at the table, 
 scarce daring to conjecture as to the outcome of my escapade 
 But as luck would have it, the Governor had been that day in 
 such worry and perplexity, and my grandfather also, that my 
 absence had passed unnoticed. Nor did my good friend the 
 captain utter a word to them of what he knew. But after- 
 wards he called me to him and set me upon his knee. How 
 big, and kind, and strong he was, and how I loved his bluff 
 soldier's face and blunt ways. And when at last he spoke, his 
 words burnt deep in my memory, so that even now I can 
 repeat them. 
 
 " Richard," he said, " I perceive you are like your father. 1 
 love your spirit greatly, but you have been overrash to-day. 
 Remember this, lad, that you are a gentleman, the son of the 
 bravest aud truest gentleman I have ever known, save one; 
 and he is destined to high things." I know now that he 
 spoke of Colonel Washington. "And that your mother," — 
 here his voice trembled, — " your mother was a lady, every inch 
 of her, and too good for this world. Remember, and seek no 
 company, therefore, beyond that circle in which you were 
 born. Fear not to be kind and generous, as I know you ever 
 will be, but choose not intimates from the tavern." Here the 
 captain cleared his throat, and seemed to seek for words. " I 
 fear there are times coming, my lad," he went on presently, 
 " when every man must choose his side, and stand arrayed in 
 his own colours. It is not for me to shape your way of think- 
 ing. Decide in your own mind that which is right, and when 
 you have so decided," — he drew his sword, as was his habit 
 when greatly moved, and placed his broad hand upon my 
 head, — " know then that God is with you, aud swerve not 
 from thy course the width of this blade fo^ any man."
 
 26 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 We sat upon a little bench in tlie Governor's garden, in 
 front of us the wide Severn merging into the bay, and glowing 
 like molten gold in the setting sun. And I was thrilled with 
 a strange reverence such as I have sometimes since felt in the 
 presence of heroes.
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 GRAFTON WOULD HEAL AN OLD BREACH 
 
 Doctor Hilliard, my grandfather's chaplain, was as holy a 
 man as ever wore a gown, but I can remember none of his dis- 
 courses which moved me as much by half as those simple words 
 Captain Clapsaddle had used. The worthy doctor, who had 
 baptized both my mother and father, died suddenly at Carvel 
 Hall the spring following, of a cold contracted while visiting a 
 poor man who dwelt across the river. He would have lacked 
 but three years of fourscore come Whitsuntide. He was uni- 
 versally loved and respected in that district where he had lived 
 so long and ably, by rich and poor alike, and those of many 
 creeds saw him to his last resting-place. Mr. Carroll, of Car- 
 rollton, who was an ardent Catholic, stood bareheaded beside 
 the grave. 
 
 Doctor Hilliard was indeed a beacon in a time when his 
 profession among us was all but darkness, and when many of 
 the scandals of the community might be laid at the door of 
 those whose duty it was to prevent them. The fault lay with- 
 out doubt in his Lordship's charter, which gave to the parish- 
 ioners no voice in the choosing of their pastors. This matter 
 was left to Lord Baltimore's whim. Hence it was that he 
 sent among us so many fox-hunting and gaming parsons who 
 read the service ill and preached drowsy and illiterate sermons. 
 Gaming and fox-hunting, did I say ? These are but charitable 
 words to cover the real characters of those impostors in holy 
 orders, whose doings would often bring the blush of shame to 
 your cheeks. Nay, I have seen a clergyman drunk in the pul= 
 pit, and even in those freer days their laxity and immorality 
 were such that many flocked to hear the parsons of the Metho* 
 
 27
 
 28 MCHAED CARVEL 
 
 dists and Lutherans, whose simple and eloquent words and 
 simpler lives were worthy of their cloth. Small wonder was 
 it, when every strolling adventurer and soldier out of employ, 
 ment took orders and found favour in his Lordship's eves, and 
 were given the fattest livings in place of worthier men, that the 
 Established Church fell somewhat into disrepute. Far be it 
 from me to say that there were not good men and true in that 
 Church, but the wag who writ this verse, which became a com- 
 mon saying in Maryland, was not far wrong for the great body 
 
 of them : — 
 
 " Who is a monster of the first renown ? 
 A lettered sot, a drunkard in a gown." 
 
 My grandfather did not replace Dr. Hilliard at the Hall, 
 afterwards saying the prayers himself. The doctor had been 
 my tutor, and in spite of my waywardness and lack of love for 
 the classics had taught me no little Latin and Greek, and early 
 instilled into my mind those principles necessary for the soul's 
 salvation. I have often thought with regret on the pranks I 
 played him. More than once at lesson-time have I gone off 
 with Hugo and young Harvey for a rabbit hunt, stealing two 
 dogs from the pack, and thus committing a double offence. 
 You may be sure I was well thrashed by Mr. Carvel, who 
 thought the more of the latter misdoing, though obliged to 
 emphasize the former. The doctor would never raise his hand 
 against me. His study, where I recited my daily tasks, was 
 that small sunny room on the water side of the east wing; and 
 I well recall him as he sat behind his desk of a morning after 
 prayers, his horn spectacles perched on his high nose and his 
 quill over his ear, and his ink-powder and pewter stand beside 
 him. His face would grow more serious as I scanned my Virgil 
 in a faltering voice, and as he descanted on a passage my eye 
 would wander out over the green trees and fields to the glisten- 
 ing water. What cared I for "Arma virumque" at such a 
 time? I was watching Nebo afishing beyond the point, and 
 as he waded ashore the burden on his shoulders had a much 
 keener interest for me than that ^neas carried out of Troy. 
 
 My Uncle Grafton came to Dr. Hilliard's funeral, choosing 
 this opportunity to become reconciled to my grandfather, who
 
 GKAFTON WOULD HEAL AN OLD BREACH 29 
 
 he feared had not much longer to live. Albeit Mr. Carvel was 
 as stout and hale as ever. None of the mourners at tiie 
 doctor's grave showed more sorrow than did Grafton. A 
 thousand remembrances of the good old man returned to him, 
 and I heard hiin telling Mr. Carroll and some other gentlemen, 
 with much emotion, how he had loved his reverend preceptor, 
 from whom he had learned nothing but what was good. *'How 
 fortunate are you, Richard," he once said, *'to have had such a 
 spiritual and intellectual teacher in your youth. Would that 
 Philip might have learned from such a one. And I trust you 
 can say, my lad, that you have made the best of your advan- 
 tages, though I fear you are of a wild nature, as your father 
 was before you." And my uncle sighed and crossed his hands 
 behind his back. "'Tis perhaps better that poor John is in 
 his grave," he said. Grafton had a word and a smile for 
 every one about the old place, but little else, being, as he said, 
 but a younger son and a poor man. I was near to forgetting 
 the shilling he gave Scipio. 'Twas not so unostentatiously 
 done but that Mr. Carvel and I marked it. And afterwards I 
 made Scipio give me the coin, replacing it with another, and 
 flung it as far into the river as ever I could throw. 
 
 As was but proper to show his sorrow at the death of the 
 old chaplain he had loved so much, Grafton came to the Hall 
 drest entirely in black. He would have had his lady and 
 Philip, a lad near my own age, clad likewise in sombre colours. 
 But my Aunt Caroline Avould none of them, holding it to be the 
 right of her sex to dress as became its charms. Her silks and 
 laces went but ill with the low estate my uncle claimed for his 
 purse, and Master Philip's wardrobe was twice the size of 
 mine. And the family travelled in a coach as grand as Mr. 
 Carvel's own, Avith panels wreathed in flowers and a footman 
 and outrider in livery, from which my aunt descended like a 
 duchess. She embraced my grandfather with much warmth, 
 and kissed me effusively on both cheeks. 
 
 "And this is dear Richard?" she cried. "Philip, come at 
 once and greet your cousin. He has not the look of the Car- 
 vels," she continued volubly, "but more resembles his mother, 
 as I recall her."
 
 30 EICHAED CAEVEL. 
 
 "Indeed, madam," my grandfather answered somewhat tes 
 tily, "he has the Carvel nose and mouth, though his chin is 
 more pronounced. He has Elizabeth's eyes." 
 
 But my aunt was a woman who flew from one subject tc 
 another, and she had already ceased to think of me. She was 
 in the hall. " The dear old home ! " she cries, though she had 
 been in it but once before, regarding lovingly each object as 
 her eye rested upon it, nay, caressingly when she came to the 
 great punch-bowl and the carved mahogany dresser, and the 
 Peter Lely over the broad fireplace. "What memories they 
 must bring to your mind, my dear," she remarks to her hus- 
 band. "'Tis cruel, as I once said to dear papa, that we cannot 
 always live under the old rafters we loved so well as children." 
 And the good lady brushes away a tear with her embroidered 
 pocket-napkin. Tears that will come in spite of us all. But 
 she brightens instantly and smiles at the line of servants drawn 
 up to welcome them. " This is Scipio, my son, who was with 
 your grandfather when your father was born, and before." 
 Master Philip nods graciously in response to Scipio's delighted 
 bow. " And Harvey," my aunt rattles on. " Have you any 
 new mares to surprise us with this year, Harvey?" Harvey 
 not being as overcome with Mrs. Grafton's condescension as 
 was proper, she turns again to Mr. Carvel. 
 
 " Ah, father, I see you are in sore need of a woman's hand 
 about the old house. What a difference a touch makes, to be 
 sure." And she takes off her gloves and attacks the morning 
 room, setting an ornament here and another there, and drawing 
 back for the effect. " Such a bachelor's hall as you are keep- 
 ing ! " 
 
 "We still have Willis, Caroline," remonstrates my grand- 
 father, gravely. " I have no fault to find with her housekeep- 
 ing." 
 
 "Of course not, father; men never notice," Aunt Caroline 
 replies in an aggrieved tone. And when Willis herself comes 
 in, auguring no good from this visit, my aunt gives her the tips 
 of her fingers. And I imagine I see a spark fly between them. 
 
 As for Grafton, he was more than willing to let bygones be 
 bygones between his father and himself. Aunt Caroline said
 
 GEAFTON WOULD HEAL AN OLD BREACH 31 
 
 with feeling that Dr. Hilliard's death was a blessing, after 
 all, since it brought a long-separated father and son together 
 once more. Grafton had been misjudged and ill-used, and he 
 tailed Heaven to witness that the quarrel had never been of 
 his seeking, — a statement which Mr. Carvel was at no pains 
 to prove perjury. How attentive was Mr. Grafton to his 
 father's every want. He read his Gazette to him of a Thursday, 
 though the old gentleman's eyes are as good as ever. If Mr. 
 Carvel walks out of an evening, Grafton's arm is ever ready, 
 and my uncle and his worthy lady are eager to take a hand at 
 cards before supper. " Philip, my dear," says my aunt, " thy 
 grandfather's slippers," or, " Philip, my love, thy grandfather's 
 hat and cane." But it is plain that Master Philip has not been 
 brought up to wait on his elders. He is curled with a novel 
 in his grandfather's easy chair by the window. "There is Dio, 
 mamma, who has naught to do but serve grandpapa," says he, 
 and gives a pull at the cord over his head which rings the bell 
 about the servants' ears in the hall below. And Dio, the whites 
 of his eyes showing, comes running into the room. 
 
 " It is nothing, Diomedes," says Mr. Carvel. " Master Philip 
 will fetch what I need." Master Philip's papa and mamma stare 
 at each other in a surprise mingled with no little alarm, Master 
 Philip being to all appearances intent upon his book. 
 
 "Philip," says my grandfather, gently. I had more than 
 once heard him speak thus, and well kncAV what was coming. 
 " Sir," replies my cousin, without looking up. " Follow me, 
 sir," said Mr. Carvel, in a voice so different that Philip drops 
 his book. They went up the stairs together, and what occurred 
 there I leave to the imagination. But when next Philip was 
 bidden to do an errand for Mr. Carvel my grandfather said 
 quietly : " I prefer that Eichard should go, Caroline." And 
 though my aunt and uncle, much mortified, begged him to give 
 Philip another chance, he would never permit it. 
 
 Nevertheless, a great effort was made to restore Philip to his 
 grandfather's good graces. At breakfast one morning, after 
 my aunt had poured Mr. Carvel's tea and made her customary 
 compliment to the blue and gold breakfast china, my Uncle 
 Grafton spoke up.
 
 32 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 "Now that Dr. Hilliard is gone, father, what do you purpose 
 concerning Richard's schooling ?" 
 
 "He shall go to King William's school in the autumn,' 
 Mr. Carvel replied. 
 
 " In the autumn ! " cried my uncle. " I do not give Philip 
 even the short holiday of this visit. He has his Greek and 
 his Virgil every day." 
 
 "And can repeat the best passages," my aunt chimes in. 
 *' Philip, my dear, recite that one your father so delights in." 
 
 However unwilling Master Philip had been to disturb him- 
 self for errands, he was nothing loth to show his knowledge, 
 and recited glibly enough several lines of his Virgil verbatim ; 
 thereby pleasing his fond parents greatly and my grandfather 
 not a little. 
 
 "I will add a crown to your savings, Philip," says his 
 father. 
 
 "And here is a pistole to spend as you will," says Mr. Car- 
 vel, tossing him the piece. 
 
 " Nay, father, I do not encourage the lad to be a spendthrift," 
 says Grafton, taking the pistole himself. " I will place this 
 token of your appreciation in his strong-box. You know we 
 have a prodigal strain in the family, sir." And my uncle 
 looks at me significantly. 
 
 " Let it be as I say, Grafton," persists Mr. Carvel, who liked 
 not to be balked in any matter, and was not overpleased at 
 this reference to my father. And he gave Philip forthwith 
 another pistole, telling his father to add the first to his saving 
 if he would. 
 
 " And Richard must have his chance," says my Aunt Caro- 
 line, sweetly, as she rises to leave the room. 
 
 " Ay, here is a crown for you, Richard," says my uncle, 
 smiling. "Let us hear your Latin, which should be purer 
 than Philip's." 
 
 My grandfather glanced uneasily at me across the table ; he 
 saw clearly the trick Grafton had played me, I think. But for 
 once I was equal to my uncle, and haply remembered a line 
 Dr. Hilliard had expounded, which fitted the present case mar- 
 vellously well. With little ceremony I tossed back the crown,
 
 GEAFTON WOULD HEAL AN OLD BREACH 33 
 
 and slowly repeated those words used to warn the Trojans 
 against accepting the Grecian horse : — 
 
 " Timeo Danaos et dona ferentesJ" 
 
 " Egad," cried Mr. Carvel, slapping his knee, " the lad hath 
 beaten you on your own ground, Grafton." And he laughed 
 as my grandfather only could laugh, until the dishes rattled 
 on the table. But my uncle thought it no matter for jesting. 
 
 Philip was also well versed in politics for a lad of his age, 
 and could discuss glibly the right of Parliament to tax the 
 colonies. He denounced the seditious doings in Annapolis and 
 Boston Town with an air of easy familiarity, for Philip had 
 the memory of a parrot, and 'twas easy to perceive whence his 
 knowledge sprang. But when my fine master spoke dispar- 
 agingly of the tradesmen as at the bottom of the trouble, my 
 grandfather's patience came to an end. 
 
 " And what think you lies beneath the wealth and power of 
 England, Philip ? " he asked. 
 
 '* Her nobility, sir, and the riches she draws from her colo- 
 nies," retorts Master Philip, readily enough. 
 
 " Not so," Mr. Carvel said gravely. " She owes her great- 
 ness to her merchants, or tradesmen, as you choose to call 
 them. And commerce must be at the backbone of every 
 great nation. Tradesmen ! " exclaimed my grandfather. 
 " Where would any of us be were it not for trade ? We sell 
 our tobacco and our wheat, and get money in return. And 
 your father makes a deal here and a deal there, and so gets 
 rich in spite of his pittance." 
 
 My Uncle Grafton raised his hand to protest, but Mr. Carvel 
 continued : — 
 
 " I know you, Grafton, I know you. When a lad it was 
 your habit to lay aside the money I gave you, and so pretend 
 you had none." 
 
 "And 'twas Avell I learned then to be careful," said my 
 uncle, losing for the instant his control, " for you loved the 
 spendthrift best, and I should be but a beggar now without 
 my wisdom." 
 
 "I loved not John's carelessness with money, but other 
 qualities in him which you lacked," answered Mr. Carvel.
 
 34 EICHARD CARVEL 
 
 Grafton shot a swift glance at me ; and so much of malice 
 and of hatred was conveyed in that look that with a sense of 
 prophecy I shuddered to think that some day I should have 
 to cope with such craft. For he detested me threefold, and 
 combined the hate he bore my dead father and mother with 
 the ill-will he bore me for standing in his way and Philip's 
 with my grandfather's property. But so deftly could he hide 
 his feelings that he was smiling again instantly. To see once, 
 however, the white belly of the shark flash on the surface of 
 the blue water is sufficient. 
 
 " I beg of you not to jest of me before the lads, father," 
 said Grafton. 
 
 " God knows there was little jest in what I said," replied 
 Mr. Carvel, soberly, " and I care not who hears it. Your own 
 son will one day know you well enough, if he does not now. 
 Do not imagine, because I am old, that I am grown so foolish 
 as to believe that a black sheep can become white save by 
 dye. And dye will never deceive such as me. And Philip," 
 the shrewd old gentleman went on, turning to my cousin, " do 
 not let thy father or any other make thee believe there cannot 
 be two sides to every question. I recognize in your arguments 
 that which smacks of his tongue, despite what he says of 
 your reading the public prints and of forming your own opin- 
 ions. And do not condemn the Whigs, many of whom are 
 worthy men and true, because they quarrel with what they 
 deem an unjust method of taxation." 
 
 Grafton had given many of the old servants cause to remem- 
 ber him. Harvey in particular, who had come from England 
 early in the century with my grandfather, spoke with bitter- 
 ness of him. On the subject of my uncle, the old coachman's 
 taciturnity gave way to torrents of reproach. "Beware of 
 him as has no use for horses. Master Richard," he would say ; 
 for this trait in Grafton in Harvey's mind lay at the bottom 
 of all others. At my uncle's approach he would retire into 
 his shell like an oyster, nor could he be got to utter more than 
 a monosyllable in his presence. Harvey's face would twitch, 
 and his fingers clench of themselves as he touched his cap. 
 And with my Aunt Caroline he was the same. He vouchsafed
 
 GRAFTON WOULD HEAL AN OLD BREACH 35 
 
 out a curt reply to all lier questions, nor did her raptures over 
 the stud soften him in the least. She would come tripping 
 into the stable yard, daintily holding up her skirts, and crying, 
 " Oh, Harvey, I have heard so much of Tanglefoot. I must 
 see him before I go." Tanglefoot is led out begrudgiugly 
 enough, and Aunt Caroline goes over his points, missing the 
 greater part of them, and remarking on the depth of chest, 
 which is nothing notable in Tanglefoot. Harvey winks slyly 
 at me the while, and never so much as offers a word of correc- 
 tion. *' You must take Philip to ride, Richard, my dear," says 
 my aunt. " His father was never as fond of it as I could have 
 wished. I hold that every gentleman should ride to hounds." 
 " Humph ! " grunts Harvey, when she is gone to the house, 
 " Master Philip to hunt, indeed ! Foxes to hunt foxes ! " 
 And he gives vent to a dry laugh over his joke, in which I 
 cannot but join. "Horsemen grows. Eh, Master Richard? 
 There was Captain Jack, who jumped from the cradle into the 
 saddle, and I never once seen a horse get the better o' him. 
 And that's God's truth." And he smooths out Tanglefoot's 
 mane, adding reflectively, "And you be just like him. But 
 there was scarce a horse in the stables what wouldn't lay back 
 his ears at Mr. Grafton, and small blame to 'em, say I. He 
 never dared go near 'em. Oh, Master Philip comes by it 
 honestly enough. She thinks old Harvey don't know a thor- 
 oughbred when he sees one, sir. But Mrs. Grafton's no thor- 
 oughbred ; I tell 'ee that, though I'm saying nothing as to her 
 points, mark ye. I've seen her sort in the old country, and 
 I've seen 'em here, and it's the same the world over, in Injy 
 and Chiny, too. Fine trappings don't make the horse, and 
 they don't take thoroughbreds from a grocer's cart. A Phila- 
 delphy grocer," sniffs this old aristocrat. "I'd knowed her 
 father was a grocer had I seen her in Pall Mall with a Royal 
 Highness, by her gait, I may say. Thy mother was a thorough- 
 bred, Master Richard, and I'll tell 'ee another," he goes on with 
 a chuckle, " Mistress Dorothy Manners is such another; you 
 don't mistake 'em with their high heads and patreeshan ways, 
 though her father be one of them accidents as will occur ia 
 every stock. She's one to tame, sir, and I don't envy no young
 
 3& RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 gentleman tlie task. But this I knows," says Harvey, not 
 heeding my red cheeks, '' that Master Philip, with all his satin 
 smallclothes, will nerer do it." 
 
 Indeed, it was no secret that my Aunt Caroline had been a 
 Miss Flaven, of Philadelphia, though she would have had the 
 fashion of our province to believe that she belonged to the 
 Governor's set there ; and she spoke in terms of easy familiarity 
 ©f the first families of her native city, deceiving no one save 
 herself, poor lady. How fondly do we believe, with the os- 
 trich, that our body is hidden when our head is tucked under 
 our wing ! Not a visitor in Philadelphia but knew Terence 
 Flaven, Mrs. Grafton Carvel's father, who not many years 
 since sold tea and spices and soap and glazed teapots over his 
 own counter, and still advertised his cargoes in the public 
 prints. He was a broad and charitable-minded man enough, 
 and unassuming, but gave way at last to the pressure brought 
 upon him by his wife and daughter, and bought a mansion. 
 Terence Flaven never could be got to stay there save to sleep, 
 and preferred to spend his time in his shop, which was grown 
 greatly, chatting with his customers, and bowing the ladies 
 to their chariots. I need hardly say that this worthy man 
 was on far better terms than his family with those personages 
 whose society they strove so hard to attain. 
 
 At the time of Miss Flaven's marriage to my uncle 'twas a 
 piece of gossip in every mouth that he had taken her for her 
 dower, which was not inconsiderable ; though to hear Mr. and 
 Mrs. Grafton talk they knew not whence the next month's 
 provender was to come. They went to live in Kent County, 
 as I have said, spending some winters in Philadelphia, where 
 Mr. Grafton was thought to have interests, though it never 
 30uld be discovered what his investments were. On hearing 
 of his marriage, which took place shortly before my father's, 
 Mr. Carvel expressed neither displeasure nor surprise. But he 
 would not hear of my mother's request to settle a portion upon 
 his younger son. 
 
 " He has the Kent estate, Bess," said he, " which is by far 
 too good for him. Never doubt but that the rogue can feather 
 his own nest far better than can I, as indeed he hath already
 
 GRAFTON WOULD HEAL AN OLD BREACH 37 
 
 done. And by the Lord," cried Mr. Carvel, bringing his fist 
 down upon the card-table where they sat, " he shall never get 
 another farthing of my money while I live, nor afterwards, ii 
 I can help it ! I would rather give it over to Mr. Carroll to 
 found a nunnery." 
 
 And so that matter ended, for Mr. Carvel could not be moved 
 from a purpose he had once made. Nor would he make any 
 advances whatsoever to Grafton, or receive those hints which 
 my uncle was forever dropping, until at length he begged to 
 be allowed to come to Dr. Hilliard's funeral, a request my 
 grandfather could not in decency refuse. 'Twas a pathetic 
 letter in truth, and served its purpose well, though it was not 
 as dust in the old gentleman's eyes. He called me into his 
 bedroom and told me that my Uncle Grafton was coming at 
 last. And seeing that I said nothing thereto, he gave me a 
 queer look and bade me treat them as civilly as I knew how. 
 "I well know thy temper, Richard," said he, '^and I fear 
 'twill bring thee trouble enough in life. Try to control it, my 
 lad ; take an old man's advice and try to control it." He was 
 in one of his gentler moods, and passed his arm about me, and 
 together we stood looking silently through the square panes 
 out into the rain, at the ducks paddling in the puddles until 
 the darkness hid them. 
 
 And God knows, lad that I was, I tried to be civil to them. 
 But my tongue rebelled at the very sight of my uncle ('twas 
 bred into me, I suppose), and his fairest words seemed to me 
 to contain a hidden sting. Once, when he spoke in his innu- 
 endo of my father, I ran from the room to restrain some act 
 of violence ; 1 know not what I should have done. And Wil- 
 lis found me in the deserted study of the doctor, where my 
 hot tears had stained the flowered paper on the wall. She did 
 her best to calm me, good soul, though she had her own 
 troubles with my Lady Caroline to think about at the time. 
 
 I had one experience with Master Philip before our visitors 
 betook themselves back to Kent, which, unfortunate as it was, 
 I cannot but relate here. My cousin would enter into none of 
 those rough amusements in which I passed my time, for fear, 
 I took it, of spoiling his fine broadcloths or of losing a gold
 
 38 RICHAED CARVEL 
 
 bucklft He never could be got to wrestle, though I challenged 
 him more than once. And he was a well-built lad, and might> 
 with a little practice, have become skilled in that sport. He 
 laughed at the homespun I wore about the farm, saying it was 
 no costume for a gentleman's son, and begged me sneeringly to 
 don leather breeches. He would have none of the company of 
 those lads with whom I found pleasure, young Harvey, and 
 Willis's son, who was being trained as Mr. Starkie's assistant. 
 Nor indeed did I disdain to join in a game with Hugo, who 
 had been given to me, and other negro lads. Phlr.p saw no 
 sport in a wrestle or a fight between two of the boys from the 
 quarters, and marvelled that I could lower myself to bet with 
 Harvey the younger. He took not a spark of interest in the 
 gaming cocks we raised together to compete at the local con- 
 tests and at the fair, and knew not a gaff from a cockspur. 
 Being one day at my wits' end to amuse my cousin, I proposed 
 to him a game of quoits on the green beside the spring-house, 
 and thither we repaired, followed by Hugo, and young Harvey 
 come to look on. Master Philip, not casting as well as he 
 might, cries out suddenly to Hugo : — 
 
 " Begone, 5 ou black dog ! What business have you here 
 watching a game between gentlemen ? " 
 
 " He is my servant, cousin," I said quietly, " and no dog, if 
 you please. And he is under my orders, not yours." 
 
 But Philip, having scarcely scored a point, was in a rage. 
 " And I'll not have him here," he shouted, giving poor Hugo a 
 cuff which sent him stumbling over the stake. And turning 
 to me; continued insolently : " Ever since we came here I have 
 marked your manner toward us, as though my father had no 
 right in my grandfather's house." 
 
 Then could I no longer contain myself. I heard young 
 Harvey laugh, and remark: "'Tis all up with Master Philip 
 now." But Philip, whatever else he may have been, was no 
 coward, and had squared off to face me by the time I had run 
 the distance between the stakes. He was heavier than I, 
 though not so tall ; and he parried my first blow and my second, 
 and many more; having lively work of it, however, for I hit 
 him as often as I was able. To speak truth, I had not looked
 
 GRAFTOK WOULD HEAL AN OLD BREACH 39 
 
 for such resistance, and seeing that I could not knock him 
 down, out of hand, I grew more cool and began to study what 
 I was doing. 
 
 *' Take off your macaroni coat," said I. " I have no wish to 
 ruin your clothes." 
 
 But he only jeered in return: "Take off thy wool-sack." 
 And Hugo, getting to his feet, cried out to me not to hurt 
 Marse Philip, that he had meant no harm. But this only 
 enraged Philip the more, and he swore a round oath at Hugo 
 and another at me, and dealt a vicious blow at my stomach, 
 whereat Harvey called out to him to fight fair. He was more 
 skilful at the science of boxing than I, though I was the better 
 fighter, having, I am sorry to say, fought but too often before. 
 And presently, when I had closed one of his eyes, his skill went 
 all to pieces, and he made a mad rush at me. A's he went by 
 I struck him so hard that he fell heavily and lay motionless. 
 
 Young Harvey ran into the spring-house and filled his hat as 
 I bent over my cousin. I unbuttoned his waistcoat and felt 
 his heart, and rejoiced to find it beating; we poured cold water 
 over his face and wrists. By then, Hugo, who was badly fright- 
 ened, had told the news in the house, and I saw my Aunt 
 Caroline come running over the green as fast as her tight stays 
 would permit, crying out that I had killed her boy, her dear 
 Philip. And after her came my Uncle Grafton and my grand- 
 father, with all the servants who had been in hearing. I was 
 near to crying myself at the thought that I should grieve my 
 grandfather. And my aunt, as she knelt over Philip, pushed 
 me away, and bade me not touch him. But my cousin opened 
 one of his eyes, and raised his hand to his head. 
 
 " Thank Heaven he is not killed ! " exclaims Aunt Caroline, 
 fervently. 
 
 " Thank God, indeed ! " echoes my uncle, and gives me a look 
 as much as to say that I am not to be thanked for it. " I have 
 often warned you, sir," he says to Mr. Carvel, " that we do not 
 inherit from stocks and stones. And so much has come of 
 our charity." 
 
 I knew, lad that I was, that he spoke of my mother ; and my 
 blood boiled within me.
 
 40 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 " Have a care, sir, with your veiled insults," I cried, " or 1 
 will serve you as I have served your son." 
 
 Grafton threw up his hands. 
 
 "What have we harboured, father?" says he. But Mr. 
 Carvel seized him by the shoulder. " Peace, Grafton, before 
 the servants," he said, " and cease thy crying, Caroline. The 
 lad is not hurt." And being a tall man, six feet in his stock- 
 ings, and strong despite his age, he raised Philip from the 
 grass, and sternly bade him walk to the house, which he did, 
 leaning on his mother's arm. "As for you, Richard," my 
 grandfather went on, "you will go into my study." 
 
 Into his study I went, where presently he came also, and 
 I told him the affair in as few words as I might. And he, 
 knowing my hatred of falsehood, questioned me not at all, but 
 paced to and fro, I following him with my eyes, and truly sorry 
 that I had given him pain. And finally he dismissed me, bid- 
 ding me make it up with my cousin, which I was nothing loth 
 to do. What he said to Philip and his father I know not. 
 That evening we shook hands, though Philip's face was much 
 swollen, and my uncle smiled, and was even pleasanter than 
 before, saying that boys would be boys. But I think my Aunt 
 Caroline could never wholly hide the malice she bore me for 
 what I had done that day. 
 
 When at last the visitors were gone, every face on the plan- 
 tation wore a brighter look. Harvey said : " God bless their 
 backs, which is the only part I ever care to see of their 
 honours." And Willis gave us a supper fit for a king. Mr. 
 Lloyd and his lady were with us, and Mr. Carvel told his old 
 stories of the time of the First George, many of which I can 
 even now repeat : how he and two other collegians fought half 
 a dozen Mohocks in Norfolk Street, and fairly beat them ; and 
 how he discovered by chance a Jacobite refugee in Greenwich, 
 and what came of it; nor did he forget that oft-told episode 
 with Dean Swift. And these he rehearsed in such merry spirit 
 and new guise that we scarce recognized them, and Colonel 
 Lloyd so choked Avith laughter that more than once he had to 
 be hit between the shoulders
 
 CHAPTER V 
 "if ladies be but young and faie* 
 
 Ko boyhood could have been happier than mine, and through- 
 out ib, ever present with me, were a shadow and a light. The 
 shadow was my Uncle Grafton. I know not what strange in- 
 tuition of the child made me think of him so constantly after 
 that visit he paid us, but often I would wake from my sleep 
 with his name upon my lips, and a dread at my heart. The 
 light — need I say ? — was Miss Dorothy Manners. Little 
 Miss Dolly was often at the Hall after that happy week we 
 spent together; and her home, Wilmot House, was scarce three 
 miles across wood and field by our plantation roads. I was 
 a stout little fellow enough, and before I was twelve I had 
 learned to follow to hounds my grandfather's guests on my 
 pony ; and Mr. Lloyd and Mr. Carvel when they shot on the 
 duck points. Ay, and what may surprise you, my dears, I was 
 given a weak little toddy off the noggin at night, while the gentle- 
 men stretched their limbs before the fire, or played at whist or loo. 
 Mr. Carvel would have no milksop, so he said. But he early 
 impressed upon me that moderation was the mark of a true 
 man, even as excess was that of a weak one. 
 
 And so it was no wonder that I frequently found my way to 
 Wilmot House alone. There I often stayed the whole day 
 long, romping with Dolly at games of our own invention, 
 and many the time I was sent home after dark by Mrs. Man- 
 ners with Jim, the groom. About once in the week Mr. and 
 Mrs. Manners would bring Dorothy over for dinner or tea at 
 the Hall. She grew quickly — so quickly that I scarce real- 
 ized — into a tall slip of a girl, who could be wilful and cruel, 
 laughing or forgiving, shy or impudent, in a breath. She had 
 
 41
 
 42 RICHAED CARVEL 
 
 as many moods as the sea. I have heard her entertain Mr. 
 Lloyd and Mr. Bordley and the ladies, and my grandfather, by 
 the hour, while I sat by silent and miserable, but proud of ker 
 all the same. Boylike, I had grown to think of her as my pos- 
 session, tho' she gave me no reason whatever. I believe I had 
 held ray hand over fire for her, at a word. And, indeed, I did 
 many of her biddings to make me wonder, now, that I was not 
 killed. It used to please her, Ivie too, to see me go the round 
 of the windmill, tho' she would cry out after I left the ground. 
 And once, when it was turning faster than common and Ivie not 
 there to prevent, I near lost my hold at the top, and was thrown 
 at the bottom with such force that I lay stunned for a full 
 minute. I opened my eyes to find her bending over me with 
 such a look of fright and remorse upon her face as I shall never 
 forget. Again, walking out on the bowsprit of the Oriole while 
 she stood watching me from the dock, I lost my balance and 
 fell into the water. On another occasion I fought Will Fother- 
 ingay, whose parents had come for a visit, because he dared 
 say he would marry her. 
 
 " She is to marry an earl," I cried, tho' I had thrashed 
 another lad for saying so. " Mr. Manners is to take her home 
 when she is grown, to marry her to an earl." 
 
 "At least she will not marry you. Master Richard," sneered 
 Will. And then I hit him. 
 
 Indeed, even at that early day the girl's beauty was enough 
 to make her talked about. And that foolish little fop, her 
 father, had more than once declared before a company in our 
 dining room that it was high time another title came into his 
 family, and tnat he meant to take Dolly abroad when she was 
 sixteen. Lad that I was, I would mark with pain the blush 
 on Mrs. Manners's cheek, and clinch my fists as she tried to 
 pass this off as a joke of her husband's. But Dolly, who sat 
 next me at a side table, would make a wry little face at my 
 angry one. 
 
 " You shall call me ' my lady,' Richard. And sometimes, if 
 you are good, you shall ride inside my coroneted coach when 
 you come home." 
 
 Ah, that was the worsb of it! The vixen was conscious of
 
 "IF LADIES BE BUT YOUNG AND FAIR*' 43 
 
 her beauty. But her airs were so natural that young and old 
 bowed before her. Nothing but worship had she had from the 
 cradle. I would that Mr. Peale had painted her in her girl- 
 hood as a type of our Maryland lady of quality. Harvey was 
 right when he called her a thoroughbred. Her nose was of 
 patrician straightness, and the curves of her mouth came from 
 generations of proud ancestors. And she had blue eyes to 
 conquer and subdue, with long lashes to hide them under when 
 she chose, and black hair with blue gloss upon it in the slant- 
 ing lights. J believe I loved her best in the riding-habit that 
 was the colour of the red holly in our Maryland woods. At 
 Christmas-tide, when we came to the eastern shore, we would 
 gallop together through miles of country, the farmers and 
 servants tipping and staring after her as she laid her silver- 
 handled whip upon her pony. She knew not the meaning of 
 fear, and would take a fence or a ditch that a man might pause 
 at. And so I fell into the habit of leading her the easy way 
 round, for dread that she would be hurt. 
 
 How those Christmas times of childhood come sweeping back 
 on my memory ! Often, and without warning, my grandfather 
 would say to me : " Richard, we shall celebrate at the Hall 
 this year." And it rarely turned out that arrangements had 
 not been made with the Lloyds and the Bordleys and the 
 Manners, and other neighbours, to go to the country for the 
 holidays. I have no occasion in these pages to mention my 
 intimacy with the sons and daughters of those good friends of 
 the Carvels', Colonel Lloyd and Mr. Bordley. Some of them 
 are dead now, and the rest can thank God and look back upon 
 worthy and useful lives. And if any of these, my old play 
 mates, could read this manuscript, perchance they might fee. 
 a tingle of recollection of Children's Day, when Maryland was 
 a province. We rarely had snow ; sometimes a crust upon the 
 groimd that was melted into paste by the noonday sun, but 
 more frequently, so it seems to me, a foggy, drizzly Christmas, 
 with the fires crackling in saloon and lady's chamber. And 
 when my grandfather and the ladies and gentlemen, his guests, 
 came down the curving stairs, there were the broadly smiling 
 servants drawn up in the wide hall;, — all who could gather
 
 44 EICHAED CARVEL 
 
 there, — and the rest on the lawn outside, to wish "Merry 
 Chris'mas" to "de quality." The redemptioners in front, 
 headed by Ivie and Jonas Tree, tho' they had long served 
 their terms, and with them old Harvey and his son ; next the 
 house blacks and the outside liveries, and then the oldest 
 slaves from the quarters. This line reached the door, which 
 Scipio would throw open at "de quality's" appearance, dis- 
 closing the rest of the field servants, in bright-coloured gowns, 
 and the little negroes on the green. Then Mr. Carvel would 
 make them a little speech of thanks and of good-will, and 
 white-haired Johnson of the senior quarters, who had been 
 with my great-grandfather, would start the carol in a quaver. 
 How clear and sweet the melody of those negro voices comes 
 back to me through the generations ! And the picture of the 
 hall, loaded with holly and mistletoe even to the great arch 
 that spanned it, with the generous bowls of egg-nog and 
 punch on the mahogany by the wall ! And the ladies our 
 guests, in cap and apron, joining in the swelli g hymn ; ay, and 
 the men, too. And then, after the breakfast of sweet ham and 
 venison, and hot bread and sausage, made under Mrs. Willis, 
 and tea and coffee and chocolate steaming in the silver, and 
 ale for the gentlemen if they preferred, came the prayers and 
 more carols in the big drawing-room. And then music in the 
 big house, or perhaps a ride afield to greet the neighbours, and 
 fiddling and dancing in the two big quarters. Hank's and 
 Johnson's, when the tables were cleared after the bountiful 
 feast Mr. Carvel was wont to give them. There was no stint, 
 my dears, — naught but good cheer and praising God in sheer 
 happiness at Carvel HalL 
 
 At night there was always a ball, sometimes at Wilmot 
 House, sometimes at Colonel Lloyd's or Mr. Bordley's, and 
 sometimes at Carvel Hall, for my grandfather dearly loved 
 the company of the young. He himself would lead off the 
 minuet, — save when once or twice his Excellency Governor 
 Sharpe chanced to be present, — and would draw his sword 
 with the young gallants that the ladies might pass under. 
 And I have seen him join merrily in the country dances too, 
 to the clapping of hands of the company. That wa.s before
 
 "IP LADIES BE BUT YOUNG AND FAIR" 45 
 
 Dolly and I were let upon the floor. We sat -with the other 
 children, our mammies at our sides, in the narrow gallery with 
 the tiny rail that ran around the ball-room, where the sweet 
 odour of the green myrtleberry candles mixed with that of the 
 powder and perfume of the dancers. And when the beauty of 
 the evening was led out, Dolly would lean over the rail, and 
 pout and smile by turns. The mischievous little baggage 
 could hardly wait for the conquering years to come. 
 
 They came soon enough, alack! The season Dorothy was 
 fourteen, we had a ball at the Hall the last day of the 
 year. When she was that age she had near arrived at her 
 growth, and was full as tall as many young ladies of twenty. 
 I had cantered with her that morning from Wilmot House to 
 Mr. Lloyd's, and thence to Carvel Hall, where she was to stay 
 to dinner. The sun was shining w^armly, and after young Har- 
 vey had taken our horses we strayed through the house, where 
 the servants were busy decorating, and out into my grand- 
 father's old English flower garden, and took the seat by the 
 sundial. I remember that it gave no shadow. We sat silent 
 for a while, Dorothy toying with old Knipe, lying at our feet, 
 and humming gayly the burden of a minuet. She had been 
 flighty on the ride, with scarce a word to say to me, for the 
 prospect of the dance had gone to her head. 
 
 "Have you a new suit to wear to-night, to see the New 
 Year in, Master Sober?" she asked presently, looking up. 
 " I am to wear a brocade that came out this autumn from Lon- 
 don, and papa says I look like a duchess when I have my 
 grandmother's pearls." 
 
 " Always the ball ! " cried I, slapping my boots in a temper. 
 "Is it, then, such a matter of importance? I am sure you 
 have danced before — at my birthdays in Marlboro' Street 
 and at your own, and Will Eotheringay's, and I know not 
 ■how many others." 
 
 " Of course," replies Dolly, sweetly ; " but never with a real 
 man. Boys like you and Will and the Lloyds do not count. 
 Dr. Courtenay is at Wilmot House, and is coming to-night; 
 and he has asked me out. Think of it, Eichard! Dr. 
 Courtenay ! "
 
 46 RICHAED CAEVEL 
 
 " A plague upon him ! He is a fop ! " 
 
 "A fop!" exclaimed Dolly, lier humour bettering as mine 
 went doAvn. *'0h, no; you are jealous. He is more sought 
 after than any gentleman at the assemblies, and Miss Dulany 
 vows his steps are ravishing. There's for you, my lad ! He 
 may not be able to keep pace with you in the chase, but he 
 has writ the most delicate verses ever printed in Maryland, 
 and no other man in the colony can turn a compliment with 
 his grace. Shall I tell you more ? He sat with me for over 
 an hour last night, until mamma sent me off to bed, and was 
 very angry at you because I had engaged to ride with you 
 to-day." 
 
 "And I suppose you wish you had stayed with him," I 
 flung back, hotly. " He had spun you a score of fine speeches 
 and a hundred empty compliments by now." 
 
 " He had been better company than you, sir," she laughed 
 provokingly. "I never heard you turn a compliment in your 
 life, and you are now seventeen. What headway do you 
 expect to make at the assemblies ? " 
 
 " None," I answered, rather sadly than otherwise. For she 
 had touched me upon a sore spot. " But if I cannot win a 
 woman save by compliments," I added, flaring up, " then may 
 I pay a bachelor's tax ! " 
 
 My lady drew her whip across my knee. 
 
 " You must tell us we are beautiful, Eichard," said she, in 
 another tone. 
 
 " You have but to look in a pier-glass," I retorted. " And, 
 besides, that is not sufiicient. You will want some rhyming 
 couplet out of a mythology before you are content." 
 
 She laughed again. 
 
 " Sir," answered she, " but you have wit, if you can but be 
 got angry." 
 
 She leaned over the dial's face, and began to draw the Latin 
 numerals with her finger. So arch, withal, that I forgot my 
 ill-humour. 
 
 " If you would but agree to stay angry for a day," she went 
 on, in a low tone, " perhaps — " 
 
 " Perhaps ? "
 
 "IF LADIES BE BUT YOUNG AND FAIR" 47 
 
 "Perhaps you would be better company," said Dorothy. 
 * You would surely be more entertaining " 
 
 " Dorothy, I love you," I said. 
 
 "To be sure. I know that," she replied. "I think you 
 have said that before." 
 
 I admitted it sadly. "But I should be a better husband 
 than Dr. Courtenay." 
 
 " La ! " cried she ; " I am not thinking of hxisbands. I 
 shall have a good time, sir, I promise you, before I marry. 
 And then I should never marry you. You are much too rough, 
 and too masterful. And you would require obedience. I shall 
 never obey any man. You would be too strict a master, sir. 
 I can see it with your dogs and your servants. And j^our 
 friends, too. For you thrash any boy who does not agree with 
 you. I want no rough squire for a husband. And then, you 
 are a Whig. I could never marry a Whig. You behaved 
 disgracefully at King William's School last year. Don't 
 deny it ! " 
 
 "Deny it!" I cried warmly; "I would as soon deny that 
 you are an arrant flirt, Dorothy Manners, and will be a 
 worse one." 
 
 " Yes, I shall have my fling," said the minx. " I shall be- 
 gin to-night, with you for an audience. I shall make the 
 doctor look to himself. But there is the dressing-bell." And 
 as we went into the house, " I believe ray mother is a Whig, 
 Richard. All the Brices are." 
 
 " And yet you are a Tory ? " 
 
 "I am a loyalist," says my lady, tossing her head proudly; 
 "and we are one day to kiss her IMajesty's hand, and tell her 
 so. And if I were the Queen," she finished in a flash, "I 
 ■would teach you surly gentlemen not to meddle." 
 
 And she swept up the stairs so stately, that Scipio was 
 moved to say slyly : " Dem's de kind of ladies, Marse Richard, 
 I jes dotes t' wait on ! " 
 
 Of the affair at King William's School I shall tell later. 
 
 We had some dozen guests staying at the Hall for the ball. 
 At dinner my grandfather and the gentlemen twitted her, and 
 laughed heartily at her apt retorts, and even toasted her when
 
 4S RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 she was gone. The ladies shook their heads and nudged one 
 another, and no doubt each of the mothers had her notion of 
 what she would do in Mrs. Manners's place. But when my 
 lady came down dressed for the ball in her pink brocade with 
 the pearls around her neck, fresh from the hands of Hester and 
 those of her own tremulous mamm}^, Mr. Carvel must needs 
 go up to her and hold her at arm's length in admiration, and 
 then kiss her on both her cheeks. Whereat she blushed right 
 prettily. 
 
 " Bless me ! " says he ; " and can this be Richard's little 
 playmate grown? Upon my word, Miss Dolly, you'll be the 
 belle of the ball. Eh, Lloyd ? Bless me, bless me, you must 
 not mind a kiss from an old man. The young ones may 
 have their turn after a while." He laughed as my grandfather 
 only could laugh, and turned to me, who had reddened to my 
 forehead. " And so, Richard, she has outstripped you, fair 
 and square. You are only an awkward lad, and she — why, 
 i' faith, in two years she'll be beyond my protection. Come, 
 Miss Dolly," says he; "I'll show you the mistletoe, that you 
 may beware of it." 
 
 And he led her off on his arm. " The old year and the new, 
 gentlemen ! " he cried merrily, as he passed the door, with 
 Dolly's mammy and Hester simpering with pride on the 
 landing. 
 
 The company arrived in coach and saddle, many having 
 come so far that they were to stay the night. Young Mr. 
 Beall carried his bride on a pillion behind him, her red riding- 
 cloak flung over her ball dress. Mr. Bordley and family came 
 m his barge, Mr, Marmaduke and his wife in coach and four. 
 With them was Dr. Courtenay, arrayed in peach-coloured coat 
 and waistcoat, with black satin breeches and white silk stock- 
 ings, and pinchbeck buckles asparkle on his shoes. How I 
 envied him as he descended the stairs, stroking his ruffles and 
 greeting the company with the indifferent ease that was then 
 the fashion. I fancied I saw his eyes wander among the 
 ladies, and not marking her he crossed over to where I stood 
 disconsolate before the fireplace. 
 
 "Why, Richard, my lad," says he, "you are quite grown
 
 "IF LADIES BE BUT YOUNG AND FAIR" 49 
 
 since I saw you. And the little girl that was your playmate, 
 — Miss Dolly, I mean, — has outstripped me, egad. She has 
 become suddenly une belle demoiselle, like a rose that blooms in 
 a night." 
 
 I answered nothing at all. But I had given much to know 
 whether my stolid manner disconcerted him. Unconsciously 
 I sought the bluff face above the chimney, depicted in all its 
 ruggedness by the painter of King Charles's day, and contrasted 
 with the bundle of finery at my side. Dr. Courtenay certainly 
 caught the look. He opened his snuff-box, took a pinch, turned 
 on his heel, and sauntered off. 
 
 " What did you say, Richard ? " asked Mr. Lloyd, coming 
 up to me, laughing, for he had seen the incident. 
 
 " I looked merely at the man of Marston Moor, sir, and said 
 nothing." 
 
 "Faith, 'twas a better answer than if you had used your 
 tongue, I think," answered my friend. But he teased me a 
 deal that night when Dolly danced with the doctor, and my 
 grandfather bade me look to my honours. My young lady 
 flung her head higher than ever, and made a minuet as well 
 as any dame upon the floor, while I stood very glum at the 
 thought of the prize slipping from my grasp. Now and then, 
 in the midst of a figure, she Avould shoot me an arch glance, 
 as much as to say that her pinions were strong now. But 
 when it came to the country dances my lady comes up to me 
 ever so prettily and asks the favour. 
 
 " 'Tis a monstrous state, indeed, when I have to beg you for a 
 reel ! " says she. 
 
 And so was I made happy.
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 1 FIRST SUFFER FOR THE CAUSE 
 
 In the eighteenth century the march of public events was 
 much more eagerly followed than now by men and women of 
 all stations, and even children. Each citizen was ready, nay, 
 forward, in taking an active part in all political movements, 
 and the children mimicked their elders. Old William Farris 
 read his news of a morning before he began the mending of 
 his watches, and by evening had so well digested them that 
 he was primed for discussion with Pryse, of the opposite per- 
 suasion, at the Rose and Crown. Sol Mogg, the sexton of 
 St. Anne's, had his beloved Gazette in his pocket as he tolled 
 the church bell of a Thursday, and would hold forth on the 
 rights and liberties of man with the carpenter who mended the 
 steeple. Mrs. Willard could talk of Grenville and Townshend 
 as knowingly as her husband, the rich factor, and Francie 
 Willard made many a speech to us younger Sons of Liberty 
 on the steps of King William's School. We younger sons, 
 indeed, declared bitter war against the mother-country long 
 before our conservative old province ever dreamed of seces- 
 sion. For Maryland was well pleased with his Lordship's 
 government. 
 
 I fear that I got at King William's School learning of a far 
 different sort than pleased my grandfather. In those days the 
 school stood upon the Stadt House hill near School Street, not 
 aaving moved to its present larger quarters. Mr. Isaac Daaken 
 was then Master, and had under him some eighty scholars. 
 After all these years, Mr. Daaken stands before me a promi- 
 nent figure of the past in an ill-fitting suit of snuff colour. 
 How well I recall that schoolroom of a bright morning, the 
 
 50
 
 I FIRST SUFFER FOR THE CAUSE 51 
 
 sun's rays shot hither and thither, and split violet, green, and 
 ted by the bulging glass panes of the windows. And by a 
 strange irony it so chanced that where the dominie sat — and 
 he moved not the whole morning long save to reach for his 
 birches — the crimson ray would often rest on the eiid of his 
 long nose, and the word " rum " be passed tittering along the 
 benches. For some men are born to the mill, and others to 
 the mitre, and still others to the sceptre ; but Mr. Daakeu was 
 born to the birch. His long, lanky legs were made for strid- 
 ing after culprits, and his arms for caning them. He taught, 
 among other things, the classics, of course, the English language 
 grammatically, arithmetic in all its branches, book-keeping in 
 the Italian manner, and the elements of algebra, geometry, and 
 trigonometry with their applications to surveying and naviga- 
 tion. He also wrote various sorts of hands, fearful and mar- 
 vellous to the uninitiated, with which he was wont to decorate 
 my monthly reports to my grandfather. I can shut my eyes 
 a.nd see now that wonderful hyperbola in the C in Carvel, 
 which, after travelling around the paper, ended in intricate 
 curves and a flourish which surely must have broken the quill. 
 The last day of every month would I fetch that scrolled note 
 to Mr. Carvel, and he laid it beside his plate until dinner was 
 over. And then, as sure as the sun rose that morning, my 
 flogging would come before it set. This done with, and an- 
 other promised next month provided l\Ir. Daaken wrote no 
 better of me, my grandfather and I renewed our customary 
 footing of love and companionship. 
 
 But Mr. Daaken, unwittingly or designedly, taught other 
 things than those I have mentioned above. And though I 
 never once heard a word of politics fall from his lips, his 
 school shortly became known to all good Tories as a nursery 
 of conspiracy and sedition. There are other ways of teaching 
 besides preaching, and of that which the dominie taught best 
 he spoke not a word. He was credited, you may well believe, 
 with calumnies against King George, and once my Uncle 
 Grafton and Mr, Dulany were for clapping him in jail, avow- 
 ing that he taught treason to the young. I can account for 
 the tone of King William's School in no other way than to say
 
 52 RICHAEI) CARVEL 
 
 tliat patriotism was in the very atmosphere, and seemed tc 
 exude in some mysterious way from Mr. Daaken's person. 
 And most of us became infected with it. 
 
 The dominie lived outside the town, in a lonely little hamlet 
 on the borders of the Spa. At two of the clock every after- 
 Duon he would dive through School Street to the Coffee House, 
 where the hostler would have liis bony mare saddled and wait- 
 ing. Mr. Daaken by no chance ever entered the tavern. I 
 recall one bright day in April when I played truant and had 
 the temerity to go afishing on Spa Creek with Will Fother- 
 ingay, the bass being plentiful there. We had royal sport of 
 it that morning, and two o'clock came and went with never a 
 thought, you may be sure. And presently I get a pull which 
 bends my English rod near to double, and in my excitement 
 plunge waist deep into the water. Will crying out directions 
 from the shore, when suddenly ths head of Mr. Daaken's mare 
 is thrust through the bushes, followed by Mr. Daaken himself. 
 Will stood stock still from fright, and I was for dropping my 
 rod and cutting, when I was arrested by the dominie calling 
 out : — 
 
 "Have a care, Master Carvel; have a care, sir. You will 
 lose him. Play him, sir ; let him run a bit." 
 
 And down he leaps from his horse and into the water after 
 me, and together we landed a three-pound bass, thereby drench- 
 ing his snuff-coloured suit. When the big fish lay shining in 
 the basket, the dominie smiled grimly at William and me as 
 we stood sheejjishly by, and without a word he drew his clasp 
 knife and cut a stout switch from the willow near, and then 
 and there he gave us such a thrashing as we remembered for 
 many a day after. And we both had another when we reached 
 home. 
 
 " Mr. Carvel," said Mr. Dulany to my grandfather, " I would 
 strongly counsel you to take Richard from that school. Per- 
 nicious doctrines, sir, are in the air, and like diseases are early 
 caught by the young. 'Twas but yesterday I saw Richard at 
 the head of a rabble of the sons of riff-raff, in Green Street, 
 and their treatment of Mr. Eairbrother hath set the whole 
 town by the ears."
 
 I FIRST ttUFFER FOR THE CAUSK 63 
 
 What Mr. Dulany had said was true. The lads of Mr. Fair- 
 brother's school being mostly of the unpopular party, we of 
 King William's had organized our cohorts and led them on to 
 a signal victory. We fell upon the enemy even as they were 
 emerging from their stronghold, the schoolhouse, and smote 
 them hip and thigh, with the sheriff of Anne Arundel County 
 a laughing spectator. Some of the Tories (for such we were 
 pleased to call them) took refuge behind Mr. Fairbrother's 
 skirts, who shook his cane angrily enough, but without avail. 
 Others of the Tory brood fought stoutly, calling out : " God 
 save the King ! " and " Down with the traitors ! " On our side 
 Francie Willard fell, and Archie Jennison raised a lump on 
 my head the size of a goose egg. But we fairly beat them, 
 and afterwards must needs attack the Tory dominie himself. 
 He cried out lustily to the sheriff and spectators, of whom 
 there were many by this time, for help, but got little but 
 laughter for his effort. Young Lloj^d and I, being large lads 
 for our age, fairly pinioned the screeching master, who cried 
 out that he was being murdered, and keeping his cane for a 
 trophy, thrust him bodily into his house of learning, turned 
 the great key upon him, and so ieft him. He made his escape 
 by a window and sougiit my grandfather in the Duke of 
 Marlboro' Street as fast as ever his indignant legs would 
 carry him. 
 
 Of his interview with Mr. Carvel I know nothing save that 
 Scipio was requested presently to show him the door, and con- 
 i3lude therefrom that his language was but ill-chosen. Scipio's 
 patrician blood was wont to rise in the presence of those whom 
 he deemed outside the pale of good society, and I fear he 
 ushered Mr. Fairbrother to the street with little of that supe- 
 rior manner he used to the first families. As for Mr. Daaken, 
 I feel sure he was not ill-pleased at the discomfiture of his 
 rival, though it cost him five of his scholars. 
 
 Our schoolboy battle, though lightly undertaken, was fraught 
 with no inconsiderable consequences for me. I was duly chided 
 ■^nd soundly whipped by my grandfather for the part I had 
 played ; but he was inclined to pass the matter after that, and 
 set it down to the desire for fighting common to most boyish
 
 54 EICHARD CARVEL 
 
 natures. And he would have gone no farther than this had it 
 not been that Mr. Green, of the Maryland Gazette, could not 
 refrain from printing the story in his paper. That gentleman, 
 being a stout Whig, took great delight in pointing out that a 
 grandson of Mr. Carvel was a ringleader in the aifair. The 
 story was indeed laughable enough, and many a barrister's wig 
 nodded over it at the Coffee House that day. When I came 
 home from school I found Scipio beside my grandfather's 
 empty seat in the dining-room, and I learned that Mr. Carvel 
 was in the garden with my Uncle Grafton and the Reverend 
 Bennett Allen, rector of St. Anne's. I well knew that some- 
 thing out of the common was in the wind to disturb my grand- 
 father's dinner. Into the garden I went, and under the black 
 walnut tree I beheld Mr. Carvel pacing up and down in great 
 unrest, his Gazette in his hand, while on the bench sat my 
 uncle and the rector of St. Anne's. So occupied was each in 
 his own thought that my coming was unperceived; and I 
 paused in my steps, seized suddenly by an instinctive dread, 
 I know not of what. The fear of Mr. Carvel's displeasure 
 passed from my mind so that I cared not how soundly he 
 thrashed me, and my heart filled with a yearning, born of the 
 instant, for that simple and brave old gentleman. For the lad 
 is nearer to nature than the man, and the animal oft scents 
 a danger the master cannot see. I read plainly in Mr. Allen's 
 handsome face, flushed red with wine as it ever was, and in 
 my Uncle Grafton's looks a snare to which I knew my grand- 
 father was blind. I never rightly understood how it was that 
 Mr. Carvel was deceived in Mr. Allen ; perchance the secret 
 lay in his bold manner and in the appearance of dignity and 
 piety he wore as a cloak when on his guard. I caught my 
 breath sharply and took my way toward them, resolved to 
 make as brave a front as I might. It was my uncle, whose 
 ear was ever open, that first heard my footstep and turned 
 upon me. 
 
 " Here is Richard, now, father," he said. 
 
 I gave him so square a look that he bent his head to the 
 ground. My grandfather stopped in his pacing and his eye 
 rested upon ma, in sorrow rather than in anger, I thought.
 
 I FIEST SUFFER FOR THE CAUSE 55 
 
 " Richard," he began, and paused. For the first time in my 
 life I saw him irresolute. He looked appealingly at the rector, 
 who rose. Mr. Allen was a man of good height and broad 
 shoulders, with piercing black eyes, reminding one more of the 
 umallsword than aught else I can think of. And he spoke 
 solemnly, in a deep voice, as though from the pulpit. 
 
 '' I fear it is my duty, Richard, to say what Mr. Carvel can- 
 not. It grieves me to tell you, sir, that young as you are you 
 have been guilty of treason against the King, and of grave 
 offence against his Lordship's government. I cannot mitigate 
 my words, sir. By your rashness, Richard, and I pray it is 
 such, you have brought grief to your grandfather iix his age, 
 and ridicule and reproach upon a family whose loyalty has 
 hitherto been unstained." 
 
 I scarce waited for him to finish. His pompous words stung 
 me like the lash of a whip, and I gave no heed to his cloth as 
 I answered : — 
 
 " If I have grieved my grandfather, sir, I am heartily sorry, 
 and will answer to him for what I have done. And I would 
 have you know, Mr. Allen, that I am as able as any to care for 
 the Carvel honour." 
 
 I spoke with a vehemence, for the thought carried me beyond 
 myself, that this upstart parson his Lordship had but a year 
 since sent among us should question our family reputation. 
 
 " Remember that Mr. Allen is of the Church, Richard," said 
 my grandfather, severely. 
 
 " I fear he has little respect for Church or State, sir," Graf- 
 ton put in. " You are now reaping the fruits of your indul- 
 gence." 
 
 I turned to my grandfather. 
 
 " You are my protector, sir," I cried. " And if it please you 
 to tell me what I now stand accused of, I submit most duti- 
 fully to your chastisement." 
 
 " Very fair words, indeed, nephew Richard," said my ancle> 
 "and I draw from them that you have yet to hear of your 
 beating an honest schoolmaster without other provocation than 
 that he was a loyal servant to the King, and wantonly injuring 
 the children of his school." He drew from his pocket a copy
 
 56 EICHAED CARVEL 
 
 of that Gazette Mr. Carvel held in his hand, and added iront 
 cally : " Here, then, are news which will doubtless surprise you, 
 sir. And knowing you for a peaceful lad, never having enter- 
 tained such heresies as those with which it pleases Mr. Green 
 to credit you, I dare swear he has drawn on his imagination." 
 
 I took the paper in amaze, not knowing why my grandfather, 
 who had ever been so jealous of others taking me to task, should 
 permit the rector and my uncle to chide me in his presence. 
 The account was in the main true enough, and made sad sport 
 of Mr. Fairbrother. 
 
 " Have I not been caned for this, sir ? " said I to my grand- 
 father. 
 
 These words seemed to touch Mr. Carvel, and I saw a tear 
 glisten in his eye as he answered : — 
 
 "You have, Richard, and stoutly. But your uncle and 
 Mr. Allen seem to think that your offence warrants more 
 than a caning, and to deem that you have been actuated by 
 bad principles rather than by boyish spirits." He paused to 
 steady his voice, and I realized then for the first time how 
 sacred he held allegiance to the King. " Tell me, my lad," 
 said he, " tell me, as you love God and the truth, whether they 
 are right." 
 
 For the moment I shrank from speaking, perceiving what a 
 sad blow to Mr. Carvel my words must be. And then I spoke 
 up boldly, catching the exulting sneer on my Uncle Grafton's 
 face and the note of triumph reflected in Mr. Allen's. 
 
 " I have never deceived you, sir," I said, " and will not now 
 hide from you that I believe the colonies to have a just cause 
 against his Majesty and Parliament." The words came ready 
 to my lips: "We are none the less Englishmen because we 
 claim the rights of Englishmen, and, saving your presence, sir, 
 are as loyal as those who do not. And if these principles be 
 bad," I added to my uncle, " then should we think with shame 
 upon the Magna Charta." 
 
 My grandfather stood astonished at such a speech from me, 
 whom he had thought a lad yet without a formed knowledge 
 of public affairs. But I was, in fact, supersaturated with that 
 of which I spoke, and could have given my hearers many able
 
 I FIRST SUFFER FOR THE CAUSE 57 
 
 Whig arguments to surprise them had the season befitted 
 There was silence for a space after I had finished, and then 
 Mr. Carvel sank right heavily upon the bench. 
 
 '^ A Carvel against the King ! " was all he said. 
 
 Had I been alone with him I should have cast myself at his 
 feet, for it hurt me sorely to see him so. As it was, I held my 
 head high. 
 
 "The Carvels ever did what they believed right, sir," I 
 answered. "You would not have me to go against my con 
 science ? " 
 
 To this he replied nothing. 
 
 " The evil has been done, as I feared, father," said Grafton, 
 presently; "we must now seek for the remedy." 
 
 "Let me question the lad," Mr. Allen softly interposed, 
 "Tell me, Richard, who has influenced you to this way oi 
 thinking ? " 
 
 I saw his ruse, and was not to be duped by it. 
 
 " Men who have not feared to act bravely against oppression, 
 sir," I said. 
 
 " Thank God," exclaimed my uncle, with fervour, " that I have 
 been more careful of Philip's associations, and that he has not 
 caught in the streets and taverns this noxious creed ! " 
 
 " There is no danger from Philip ; he remembers his family 
 name," said the rector. 
 
 "No," quoth Mr. Carvel, bitterly, "there is no danger from 
 Philip. Like his father, he will ever believe that which best 
 serves him." 
 
 Grafton, needless to say, did not pursue such an argument, 
 but rising, remarked that this deplorable affair had kept him 
 long past his dinner hour, and that his services were as ever at 
 his father's disposal. He refused to stay, though my grand- 
 f ath 3r pressed him of course, and with a low bow of filial re- 
 spect and duty and a single glance at the rector, my uncle was 
 gone. And then we walked slowly to the house and into the 
 dining room, Mr. Carvel leading the procession, and I an un- 
 willing rear, knowing that my fate would be decided between 
 them. I thought Mr. Allen's grace would never end, and the 
 meal likewise ; I ate but little, while the two gentlemen dis*
 
 58 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 cussed parish matters. And when at last Scipio had retired, 
 and the rector of St. Anne's sat sipping the old Madeira, his 
 countenance all gravity, but with a relish he could not hide, 
 my grandfather spoke up. And though he addressed himself 
 to the guest, I knew full well what he said was meant for me. 
 
 " As you see, sir," said he, " I am sore perplexed and 
 troubled. We Carvels, Mr. Allen, have ever been stanch to 
 Church and King. My great-gran dsire fought at Naseby and 
 Marston Moor for Charles, and suffered exile in his name. 
 'Twas love for King James that sent my father hither, though 
 he swore allegiance to Anne and the First George. I can say 
 with pride that he was no indifferent servant to either, re- 
 fusing honours from the Pretender in '15, when he chanced to 
 be at home. An oath is an oath, sir, and we have yet to be 
 false to ours. And the King, say I, should, next to God, be 
 loved and loyally served by his subjects. And so I have 
 served this George, and his grandfather before him, according 
 to the talents which were given me." 
 
 "And ably, sir, permit me to say," echoed the rector, heart- 
 ily. Too heartily, methought. And he carefully filled his 
 pipe with choice leaf out of Mr. Carvel's inlaid box. 
 
 " Be that as it may, I have done my best, as we must all do. 
 Pardon me, sir, for speaking of myself. But I have brought 
 up this lad from a child, Mr. Allen," said Mr. Carvel, his words 
 coming slowly, as if each gave him pain, " and have striven to 
 be an example to him in all things. He has few of those faults 
 which I most fear ; God be thanked that he loves the truth, 
 for there is yet a chance of his correction. A chance, said I ? " 
 he cried, his speech coming more rapid, " nay, he shall be cured! 
 I little thought, fool that I was, that he would get this pox. 
 His father fought and died for the King ; and should trouble 
 come, which God forbid, to know that Richard stood against 
 his Majesty would kill me." 
 
 " And well it might, Mr. Carvel," said the divine. He was 
 for the moment sobered, as weak men must be in the presence 
 of those of strong convictions. My grandfather had half risen 
 in his chair, and the lines of his smooth -shaven face deepened 
 visibly with the pain of the feelings to which he gave utter-
 
 I FIRST SUFFER FOR THE CAUSE 59 
 
 auce. As for me, I was well-nigh swept away by a bigness 
 within me, and torn between love and duty, between pity and 
 the reason left me, and sadly tried to know whether my dear 
 parent's life and happiness should be weighed against what 1 
 felt to be right. I strove to speak, but could say nothing. 
 
 "He must be removed from the influences," the rector ven- 
 tured, after a halt. 
 
 " That he must indeed," said my grandfather. " Why did I 
 not send him to Eton last fall ? But it is hard, Mr. Allen, to 
 part with the child of our old age. I would take passage and 
 go myself with him to-morrow were it not for my duties in the 
 Council." 
 
 Eton ! I would have sooner, I believe, wrought by the side 
 of any rascally redemptioner in the iron mines of the Patapsco 
 than have gone to Eton. 
 
 " But for the present, sir, I would counsel you to put the lad's 
 studies in the charge of some able and learned man, that his 
 mind may be turned fijom the disease which has fed upon it. 
 Some one whose loyalty is beyond question." 
 
 " And who so fit as yourself, Mr. Allen ? " returned my 
 grandfather, relief plain in his voice. " You have his Lord- 
 ship's friendship and confidence, and never has rector of St. 
 Anne's or of any other parish brought letters to his Excellency 
 to compare with yours. And so I crave your help in this time 
 of need." 
 
 Mr. Allen showed becoming hesitjttion. 
 
 " I fear you do me greater honour than I deserve, Mr. Carvel," 
 he answered, a strain of the pomp coming back, " though my 
 gracious patron is disposed to think well of me, and I shall 
 strive to hold his good opinion. But I have duties of parish 
 and glebe to attend, and Master Philip Carvel likewise in my 
 charge." 
 
 I held my breath for my grandfather's reply. The rector, 
 however, had read him, and well knew that a show of reluc- 
 tance would but inflame him the more. 
 
 " How now, sir ? " he exclaimed. " Surely, as you love the 
 King, you will not refuse me in this strait." 
 
 Mr. Allen rose and grasped him by the hand.
 
 60 KICHARD CAEVEL 
 
 " Nay, sir," said he, " and you put it thus, I cannot refuse 
 you." 
 
 The thought of it was too much. I ran to my grandfather 
 crying : " Not Mr. Allen, sir, not Mr. Allen. Any one else you 
 please, — Mr. Fairbrother even." 
 
 The rector drew back haughtily. " It is clear, Mr. Carvel,' 
 he said, "that Richard has other preferences." 
 
 '' And be damned to them ! " shouted my grandfather. "Am 
 I to be ruled by this headstrong boy ? He has beat Mr. 
 Fairbrother, and shall have no skimmed-milk supervision if 1 
 can help it." 
 
 And so it was settled that I should be tutored by the rector 
 of St. Anne's, and I took my seat beside my cousin Philip in 
 his study the very next day.
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 GRAFTON HAS HIS CHANCE 
 
 To add to my troubles my grandfather was shortly taken 
 very ill with the first severe sickness he had ever in his life 
 endured. Dr. Leiden came and went sometimes thrice daily, 
 and for a week he bore a look so grave as to. frighten me. Dr. 
 Evarts arrived by horse from Philadelphia, and the two physi- 
 cians held long conversations in the morning room, while I lis- 
 tened at the door and comprehended not a word of their talk 
 save when they spoke of bleeding. And after a very few con- 
 sultations, as is often the way in their profession, they disagreed 
 and quarrelled, and Dr. Evarts packed himself back to Phila- 
 delphia in high dudgeon. Then Mr. Carvel began to mend. 
 
 There were many who came regularly to inquire of him, and 
 each afternoon I would see the broad shoulders and genial face 
 of Governor Sharpe in the gateway, completing his walk by 
 way of Marlboro' Street. I loved and admired him, for he 
 had been a soldier himself before he came out to us, and had 
 known and esteemed my father. His Excellency should surely 
 have been knighted for his services in the French war. Once 
 he spied me at the window and shook his cane pleasantly, and 
 in he walks to the room where I sat reading of the victories 
 of Blenheim and Malplaquet, for chronicles of this sort 1 
 delighted in. 
 
 " Aha, Eichard," says he, taking up the book, " 'tis plain 
 whither your tastes lead you. Marlboro' was a grea*-- gen- 
 eral, and as sorry a scoundrel as ever led troops to battle. 
 Truly," says he, musing, " the Lord often makes queer choice 
 in his instruments for good." And he lowered himself into 
 the easy chair and crossed his legs, regarding me very comi- 
 
 61
 
 62 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 cally. " What's this I hear of your joining the burghers and 
 barristers, and trouncing poor Mr. Fairbrother and his flock^ 
 and crying ' Liberty forever ! ' in the very ears of the law ? " he 
 asks. " His Majesty will have need of such lads as you, I make 
 no doubt, and should such proceedings come to his ears I would 
 not give a pipe for your chances." 
 
 I could not but laugh, confused as I was, at his Excellency's 
 rally. And this I may say, that had it pleased Providence to 
 give me dealing with such men of the King's side as he, per- 
 chance my fortunes had been altered. 
 
 " And in any good cause, sir," I replied, " I would willingly 
 give my life to his Majesty." 
 
 "So," said his Excellency, raising his eyebrows, "I see 
 clearly you are of ihe rascals. But a lad must have his fancies, 
 and when your age I was hot for the exiled Prince. I acquired 
 more sense as I grew older. And better an active mind, say I, 
 than a sluggard partisan." 
 
 At this stage of our talk came in my Uncle Grafton, and 
 bowing low to the Governor made apology that some of the 
 elders of the family had not been there to entertain him. He 
 told his Excellency that he had never left the house save for 
 necessary business, which was true for once, my uncle having 
 taken up his abode with us during that week. But now, thank- 
 ing Heaven and Dr. Leiden and his own poor effort, he could 
 report his dear father to be out of danger. 
 
 Governor Sharpe answered shortly that he had been happy 
 to hear the good news from Scipio. " Faith," says he, " I was 
 well enough entertained, for I have a liking for this lad, and 
 to speak truth I saw him here as I came up the walk." 
 
 My uncle smiled deprecatingly, and hid any vexation he 
 might have had from this remark. 
 
 " I fear that Richard lacks wisdom as yet, your Excellency," 
 said he, " and has many of his father's headstrong qualities." 
 
 "Which you most providentially escaped," his Excellency 
 put in. 
 
 Grafton bit his lip. " Necessity makes us all careful, sir," 
 said he. 
 
 "Necessity does more than that, Mr. Carvel," returned the
 
 GEAFTON HAS HIS CHANCE 63 
 
 Governor, who was something of a wit ; " necessity often makes 
 us fools, if we be not careful. But give me ever a wanton fool 
 rather than him of necessity's handiwork. And as for the 
 Jad," says he, " let him not trouble you. Such as he, if twisted 
 a little in the growth, come out straight enough in the end." 
 
 I think the Governor little knew what wormwood was this 
 to my uncle. 
 
 " 'Tis heartily to be hoped, sir," he said, " for his folly has 
 brought trouble enough behind it to those who have his educa- 
 tion and his welfare in hand, and I make no doubt is at the 
 bottom of my father's illness." 
 
 At this injustice I could not but cry out, for all the town 
 knew, and my grandfather himself best of all, that the trouble 
 from which he now suffered sprang from his gout. And yet 
 my heart was smitten at the thought that I might have has- 
 tened or aggravated the attack. The Governor rose. He 
 seized his stick aggressively and looked sharply at Grafton. 
 
 "Nonsense," he exclaimed; " my friend Mr. Carvel is far too 
 wise to be upset by a boyish prank which deserves no notice 
 save a caning. And that, my lad," he added lightly, " I dare 
 swear you got with interest." And he called for a glass of the 
 old Madeira when Scipio came with the tray, and departed 
 with a polite inquiry after my Aunt Caroline's health, and a 
 prophecy that Mr. Carvel would soon be taking the air again. 
 
 There had been high doings indeed in Marlboro' Street 
 that miserable week. My grandfather took to his bed of a 
 Saturday afternoon, and bade me go down to Mr. Aikman's, 
 the bookseller, and fetch him the latest books and plays. That 
 night I became so alarmed that I sent Diomedes for Dr. Leiden, 
 who remained the night through. Sunday was well gone before 
 the news reached York Street, when my Aunt Caroline came 
 hurrying over in her chair, and my uncle on foot. They 
 brushed past Scipio at the door, and were pushing up the long 
 flight when they were stopped on the landing by Dr. Leiden. 
 
 " How is my father, sir ? " Grafton cried, " and why was I 
 not informed at once of his illness ? I must see him." 
 
 " Your vater can see no one, Mr. Carvel," said the doctor, 
 quietly.
 
 64 EICHAED CAEVEL 
 
 " Wtiat," says my uncle, " you dare to refuse me ? ' 
 
 "Not so lout, I bray you," says the doctor; "I tare any 
 ting vere life is concerned." 
 
 " But I will see him," says Grafton, in a sort of helpless rage, 
 for the doctor's manner baffled him. " I will see him before 
 he dies, and no man alive shall say me nay." 
 
 Then my Aunt Caroline gathered up her skirt, and made 
 shift to pass the doctor. 
 
 " I have come to nurse him," said she, imperiously, and, turn- 
 ing to where I stood near, she added : " Bid a servant fetch 
 from York Street what I shall have need of." 
 
 The doctor smiled, but stood firm. He cared little for aught 
 in heaven or earth, did Dr. Leiden, and nothing whatever for 
 Mr. and Mrs. Grafton Carvel. 
 
 "I peg you, matam, do not disturp yourself," said he. "Mr. 
 Carvel is aply attended by an excellent voman, Mrs. Villis, 
 and he has no neet of you." 
 
 "What," cried my aunt; "this is too much, sir, that I am 
 thrust out of my father-in-law's house, and my place taken by 
 a menial. That woman able!" she fumed, dropping suddenly 
 her cloak of dignity ; " Mr. Carvel's charity is all that keeps her 
 here." 
 
 Then my uncle drew himself up. "Dr. Leiden," says he, 
 " kindly oblige me by leaving my father's house, and consider 
 your services here at an end. And Eichard," he goes on to 
 me, " send my compliments to Dr. Drake, and request him to 
 come at once." 
 
 I was stepping forward to say that I would do nothing of 
 the kind, when the doctor stopped me by a signal, as much as 
 to say that the quarrel was wide enough without me. He 
 stood with his back against the great arched window flooded 
 with the yellow light of the setting sun, a little black figure in 
 high relief, with a face of parchment. And he took a pinch of 
 snuff before he spoke. 
 
 " I am here py Mr. Carvel's orters, sir," said he, " and py 
 tose alone vill I leaf." 
 
 And this is how the Chippendale piece was broke, which 
 you, my children, and especially Bess, admire so extrava/-
 
 GRAFTON HAS HIS CHAKCE 65 
 
 gantly. It stood that day behind the doctor, and my uncle, 
 making a violent move to get by, struck it, and so it fell with. 
 a great crash lengthwise on the landing; and the wonderful 
 vases Mr. Carroll had given my grandfather rolled down the 
 stairs and lay crushed at the bottom. Withal he had spoken 
 so quietly, Dr. Leiden possessed a temper drawn from his Teu- 
 tonic ancestors. With his little face all puckered, he swore so 
 roundly at my uncle in some lingo he had got from his father, 
 — High German or Low German, — I know not what, that 
 Grafton and his wife were glad enough to pick their way 
 amongst the broken bits of glass and china, to the hall again. 
 Dr. Leiden shook his list at their retreating persons, saying that 
 the Sabbath was no day to do murder. 
 
 I followed them with the pretence of picking up what was 
 left of the ornaments. What between anger against the doctor 
 and Mrs. Willis, and fright and chagrin at the fall of the Chip- 
 pendale piece, my aunt was in such a state of nervous flurry 
 that she bade the ashy Scipio call her chairmen, and vowed, in 
 a trembling voice, she would never again enter a house where 
 that low-bred German was to be found. But my Uncle Graf ten 
 was of a different nature. He deemed defeat but a postpone- 
 ment of the object he wished to gain, and settled himself in the 
 library with a copy of " Miller on the Distinction of Ranks in 
 Society." He appeared at supper suave as ever, gravely con- 
 cerned as to his father's health, which formed the chief topic 
 between us. He gave me to understand that he would take 
 the green room until the old gentleman was past danger. Not 
 a word, mind you, of Dr. Leiden, nor did my uncle express a 
 wish to go into the sick-room, from which even I was forbid. 
 Nay, the next morning he met the doctor in the hall and con- 
 versed with him at somt, length over the case as though nothing 
 had occurred between them. 
 
 While my Uncle Grafton was in the house I had opportunity 
 of marking the intimacy which existed betAveen him and the 
 rector of St. Anne's. The latter swung each evening the 
 muffled knocker, and was ushered on tiptoe across the polished 
 floor to the library where my uncle sat in state. It was often 
 after supper before the rector left, and coming in upon them
 
 66 KICHAED CAKVEL 
 
 once I found wine between them and empty decanters on the 
 board, and they fell silent as I passed the doorway. 
 
 Our dear friend Captain Clapsaddle was away when my 
 grandfather fell sick, having been North for three months or 
 more on some business known to few. 'Twas generally sup- 
 posed he went to Massachusetts to confer with the patriots of 
 that colony. Hearing the news as he rode into town, he came 
 booted and spurred to Marlboro' Street before going to his 
 lodgings. I ran out to meet him, and he threw his arms about 
 me on the street so that those who were passing smiled, for all 
 knew the captain. And Harvey, who always came to take the 
 captain's horse, swore that he was glad to see a friend of the 
 family once again. I told the captain very freely of my doings, 
 and showed him the clipping from the Gazette, which made 
 him laugh heartily. But a shade came upon his face when I 
 rehearsed the scene we had with my uncle and Mr. Allen in 
 the garden. 
 
 " What," says he, " Mr. Carvel hath sent you to Mr. Allen 
 on your uncle's advice ? " 
 
 "No," I answered, "to do my uncle justice, he said not a 
 word to Mr. Carvel about it." 
 
 The captain turned the subject. He asked me much con- 
 cerning the rector and what he taught me, and appeared but 
 ill-pleased at that I had to tell him. But he left me without 
 so much as a word of comment or counsel. For it was a prin- 
 ciple with Captain Clapsaddle not to influence in any way the 
 minds of the young, and he would have deemed it unfair to 
 Mr. Carvel had he attempted to win my sympathies to his. 
 Captain Daniel was the first the old gentleman asked to see 
 when visitors were permitted him, and you may be sure the 
 faithful soldier was below stairs waiting for the summons. 
 
 I was some three weeks with my new tutor, the rector, before 
 my grandfather's illness, and went back again as soon as he 
 began to mend. I was not altogether unhappy, owing to a 
 certain grim pleasure I had in debating with him, which I shall 
 presently relate. There was much to annoy and anger me, too. 
 My cousin Philip was forever carping and criticising my Greek 
 and Latin, and it was impossible not to feel his sneer at my
 
 GRAFTON HAS HIS CHANCE 67 
 
 back when I construed. He had pat replies ready to correct 
 me when called upon, and 'twas only out of consideration for Mr. 
 Carvel that I kept my hands from him when we were dismissed. 
 
 I think the rector disliked Philip in his way as much as did 
 I in mine. The Reverend Bennett Allen, indeed, might have 
 been a very good fellow had Providence placed him in a dif- 
 ferent setting; he was one of those whom his Excellency 
 dubbed "fools from necessity." He should have been born 
 with a fortune, though I can think of none he would not have 
 run through in a year or so. But nature had given him aristo- 
 cratic tastes, with no other means toward their gratification 
 than good looks, convincing ways, and a certain bold, half- 
 defiant manner, v/hich went far with his Lordship and those 
 like him, who thought Mr. Allen excellent good company. 
 With the rector, as with too many others, holy orders were but 
 a means to an end. It was a sealed story what he had been 
 before he came to Governor Sharpe with Baltimore's directions 
 to give him the best in the colony. But our rakes and wits, 
 and even our solid men, like my grandfather, received him 
 with open arms. He had ever a tale on his tongue's end 
 tempered to the ear of his listener. 
 
 Who had most influenced my way of thinking, Mr. Allen 
 had well demanded. The gentleman was none other than Mr. 
 Henry Swain, Patty's father. Of her I shall speak later. 
 He was a rising barrister and man of note among our patriots, 
 and member of the Lower House; a diffident man in public, 
 with dark, soulful eyes, and a wide, white brow, who had 
 declined a nomination to the Congress of '65. At his fire- 
 side, unknoAvn to my grandfather and to Mr. Allen, I had 
 learned the true principles of government. Before the House 
 Mr. Swain spoke only under extraordinary emotion, and then 
 he gained every ear. He had been my friend since childhood, 
 but I never knew the meaning and the fire of oratory until 
 curiosity brought me to the gallery of the Assembly chamber 
 in the Stadt House, where the barrister was on his feet at the 
 time. I well remember the tingle in my chest as I looked and 
 listened. And I went again and again, until the House sat 
 behind closed doors.
 
 68 EICHAED CARVEL 
 
 And so, when Mr. Allen brought forth for my benefit those 
 arguments of the King's party which were deemea their strength, 
 I would confront him with Mr. Swain's logic. He had in me a 
 tough subject for conversion. I was put to very small pains 
 to rout my instructor out of all his positions, because indo- 
 lence, and lack of interest in the question, and contempt for 
 the Americans, had made him neglect the study of it. And 
 Philip, who entered at first glibly enough at the rector's side, 
 was soon drawn into depths far beyond him. Many a time 
 was Mr. Allen fain to laugh at his blunders. I doubt not my 
 cousin had the facts straight enough when he rose from the 
 breakfast table at home ; but by the time he reached the rec- 
 tory they were shaken up like so many parts of a puzzle in a 
 bag, and past all straightening. 
 
 The rector was especially bitter toward the good people of 
 Boston Town, whom he dubbed Puritan fanatics. To him Mr. 
 Otis was but a meddling fool, and Mr. Adams a traitor whose 
 head only remained on his shoulders by grace of the extreme 
 clemency of his Majesty, which Mr. Allen was at a loss to 
 understand. When beaten in argument, he would laugh out 
 some sneer that would set my blood simmering. One morning 
 he came in late for the lesson, smelling strongly of wine, and 
 bade us bring our books out under the fruit trees in the gar- 
 den. He threw back his gown and tilted his cap, and lighting 
 his pipe began to speak of that act of Townshend's, passed but 
 the year before, which afterwards proved the King's folly and 
 England's ruin. 
 
 " Principle ! " exclaimed my fine clergyman at length, blow- 
 ing a great whiff among the white blossoms. ''Oons! your 
 Americans worship his Majesty stamped upon a golden coin. 
 And though he saved their tills from plunder from the French, 
 the miserly rogues are loth to pay for the service." 
 
 I rose, and taking a guinea-piece from my pocket, held it 
 up before him. 
 
 *' They care this much for gold, sir, and less for his Majesty, 
 who cares nothing for them," I said. And walking to the well 
 near by, I dropped the piece carelessly into the clear water. 
 Jle was beside me before it left my hand, and Philip also, in
 
 GRAFTOIi HAS HIS CHANCE 69 
 
 time to see the yellow coin edging tliis way and that toward 
 the bottom. The rector turned to me with a smile of cynical 
 amusement playing over his features. 
 
 " Such a spirit has brought more than one brave fellow to 
 Tyburn, Master Carvel," he said. And then he added reflec- 
 tively, " But if there were more like you, we might well have 
 cause for alarm."
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 OVEK THE WALL 
 
 Dorothy treated me ill enough that spring. Since the minx 
 had tasted power at Carvel Hall, there was no accounting for 
 her. On returning to town Dr. Courtenay had begged her 
 mother to allow her at the assemblies, a request which Mrs. 
 Manners most sensibly refused. Mr. Marmaduke had given 
 his consent, I believe, for he was more impatient than Dolly 
 for the days when she would become the toast of the province. 
 But the doctor contrived to see her in spite of difficulties, and 
 Will Fotheringay was forever at her house, and half a dozen 
 other lads. And many gentlemen of fashion like the doctor 
 called ostensibly to visit Mrs. Manners, but in reality to see 
 Miss Dorothy. And my lady knew it. She would be linger- 
 ing in the drawing-room in her best bib and tucker, or strolling 
 in the garden as Dr. Courtenay passed, and I got but scant 
 attention indeed. I was but an awkward lad, and an old play- 
 mate, with no novelty about me. 
 
 " Why, Eichard," she would say to me as I rode or walked 
 ceside her, or sat at dinner in Prince George Street, " I know 
 every twist and turn of your nature. There is nothing you 
 could do to surprise me. And so, sir, you are very tiresome." 
 
 "■ You once found mb useful enough to fetch and carry, and 
 amusing when I walked the Oriole's bowsprit," I replied 
 ruefully. 
 
 " Why don't you make me jealous ? " says she, stamping her 
 foot. " A score of pretty girls are languishing for a glimpse 
 of you, — Jennie and Bess Fotheringay, and Betty Tayloe, 
 and Heaven knows how many others. They are actually accus- 
 ing me of keeping you trailing. ' La, girls ! ' said I, ' if you 
 
 2U
 
 OVER THE WALL 71 
 
 will but rid me of him for a day, yon shall have my lasting 
 gratitude.' " 
 
 And she turned to the spinet and began a lively air. But 
 the taunt struck deeper than she had any notion of. That 
 spring arrived out from London on the Belle of the Wye a box 
 of fine clothes my grandfather had commanded for me from 
 his own tailor ; and a Avoi'd from a maid of lifteen did more to 
 make me wear them than any amount of coaxing from Mr. 
 Allen and my Uncle Grafton. My uncle seemed in particular 
 anxious that I should make a good appearance, and reminded 
 me that I should dress as became the heir of the Carvel house. 
 I took counsel with Patty Swain, and then went to see Betty 
 Tayloe, and the Fotheriugay girls, and the Dulany girls, near 
 the Governor's. And (fie upon me !) I was not ill-pleased with 
 the brave appearance I made. I would show my mistress how 
 little I cared. But the worst of it was, the baggage seemed 
 to trouble less than I, and had the effrontery to tell me how 
 happy she was I had come out of my shell, and broken loose 
 from her apron-strings. 
 
 " Indeed, they would soon begin to think I meant to marry 
 you, Richard," says she at supper one Sunday before a table- 
 ful, and laughed with the rest. 
 
 " They do not credit you with such good sense, my dear," 
 says her mother, smiling kindly at me. 
 
 And Dolly bit her lip, and did not join in that part of the 
 merriment. 
 
 I fled to Patty Swain for counsel, nor was it the first time in 
 my life I had done so. Some good women seem to have been 
 put into this selfish world to comfort and advise. After Prince 
 George Street with its gilt and marbles and stately hedged 
 gardens, the low-beamed, vine-covered house in the Duke of 
 Gloucester Street was a home and a rest. In my eyes there 
 was not its equal in Annapolis for beauty within and without. 
 Mr. Swain had bought the dwelling from an aged man with a 
 history, dead some nine years back. Its furniture, for the most 
 part, was of the Restoration, of simple and massive oak black- 
 ened by age, which I ever fancied better than the Frenchy 
 baubles of tables and chairs with spindle legs, and cabinets oi
 
 72 EICHARD CARVEL 
 
 glass and gold lacquer which were then making their way into 
 the fine mansions of our town. The house was full of twists 
 and turns, and steps up and down, and nooks and passages and 
 queer hiding-places which we children knew, and in parts queer 
 leaded windows of bulging glass set high in the wall, and older 
 than the reign of Hanover, Here was the shrine of cleanliness, 
 whose high-priestess was Patty herself. Her floors were like 
 satin-wood, and her brasses lights in themselves. She had 
 come honestly enough by her gifts, her father having married 
 the daughter of an able townsman of Salem, in the Massachu- 
 setts colony, when he had gone north after his first great suc- 
 cess in court. Now the poor lady sat in a padded armchair 
 from morning to night, beside the hearth in winter^ and under 
 the trees in summer, by reason of a fall she had had. There 
 she knitted a'l the day long. Her placid face and quiet way 
 come before me as I write. 
 
 My friendship with Patty had begun early. One autumn 
 day when I was a little lad of eight or nine, my grandfather 
 and I were driving back from Whitehall in the big coach, when 
 we spied a little maid of six by the Severn's bank, with her 
 apron full of chestnuts. She was trudging bravely through 
 the dead leaves toward the town. Mr. Carvel pulled the cord 
 to stop, and asked her name. "Patty Swain, and it please 
 your honour," the child answered, without fear. " So you are 
 the young barrister's daughter ? " says he, smiling at something 
 I did not understand. She nodded. " And how is it you are 
 so far from home, and alone, my little one ? " asked Mr. Carvel 
 again. For some time he could get nothing out of her ; but at 
 length she explained, with much coaxing, that her big brother 
 Tom had deserted her. My grandfather wished that Tom were 
 his brother, that he might be punished as he deserved. He 
 commanded young Harvey to lift the child into the coach, 
 chestnuts and all, and there she sat primly between us. She 
 was not as pretty as Dorothy, so I thought, but her clear gray 
 eyes and simple ways impressed me by their very honesty, as 
 they did Mr. Carvel. What must he do but drive her home to 
 Green Street, where Mr. Swain then lived in a little cottage. 
 Mr. Carvel himself lifted her out and kissed her, and handed
 
 OVER THE WALL 73 
 
 her to her mother at the gate, who was vastly overcome by the 
 circumstance. The good lady had not then received that fall 
 which made her a cripple for life. " And will you not have 
 my chestnuts, sir, for your kindness?" says little Patty. 
 Whereat my grandfather laughed and kissed her again, for he 
 loved children, and wished to know if she would not be his 
 daughter, and come to live in Marlboro' Street; and told the 
 story of Tom, for fear she would not. He was silent as we 
 drove away, and I knew he was thinking of my own mother 
 at that age. 
 
 Not long after this Mr. Swain bought the house in the Duke 
 of Gloucester Street. This, as you know, is back to back with 
 Marlboro'. To reach Patty's garden I had but to climb the 
 brick wall at the rear of our grounds, and to make my way 
 along the narrow green lane left there for perhaps a hundred 
 paces of a lad, to come to the gate in the wooden paling. In 
 return I used to hoist Patty over the wall, and we would play 
 at children's games under the fruit trees that skirted it. Some 
 instinct kept her away from the house. I often caught her 
 gazing wistfully at its wings and gables. She was not born to 
 a mansion, so she said. 
 
 "But your father is now rich," I objected. I had heard 
 Captain Daniel say so. "He may have a mansion of his own 
 and he chooses. He can better afford it than many who are in 
 debt for the fine show they make." I was- but repeating 
 gossip. 
 
 " I should like to see the grand company come in, when your 
 grandfather has them to dine," said the girl. " Sometimes we 
 have grand gentlemen come to see father in their coaches, but 
 they talk of nothing but politics. We never have any fine 
 ladies like — like your Aunt Caroline." 
 
 I startled her by laughing derisively. 
 
 "And I pray you never may, Patty," was all I said. 
 
 I never told Dolly of my intimacy with the barrister's little 
 girl ov^'V the wall. This was not because I was ashamed of 
 the friendship, but arose from a fear — well-founded enough — ■ 
 that she would make sport of it. At twelve Dolly had notions 
 concerning the walks of life that most other children never
 
 71 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 dream of. They were derived, of course, from Mr. Marmaduke. 
 But the day of reckoning arrived. Patty and I were romping 
 beside the back wall when suddenly a stiff little figure in a 
 starched frock appeared through the trees in the direction of 
 the house, followed by Master Will Fotheringay in his visiting 
 clothes. I laugh now when I think of that formal meeting be- 
 tween the two little ladies. There was no time to hoist Miss Swain 
 over the wall, or to drive Miss Manners back upon the house. 
 Patty stood blushing as though caught in a guilty act, while she 
 of the Generations came proudly on. Will sniggering behind her. 
 
 " Who is this, Richard ? " asks Miss Manners, pointing a 
 small forefinger. 
 
 " Patty Swain, if you must know ! " I cried, and added boy- 
 like : " And she is just as good as you or me, and better." I 
 was quite red in the face, and angry because of it. " This is 
 Dorothy Manners, Patty, and Will Fotheringay." 
 
 The moment was a pregnant one. But I was resolved to 
 carry the matter out with a bold front. " Will you join us at 
 catch and swing ? " I asked. 
 
 Will promptly declared that he would join, for Patty was 
 good to look upon. Dolly glanced at her dress, tossed her 
 head, and marched back alone. 
 
 " Oh, Richard ! " cried Patty ; " I shall never forgive myself ! 
 I have made you qiiarrel with — " 
 
 " His sweetheart," said Will, wickedly. 
 
 "I don't care," said I. Which was not so. 
 
 Patty felt no resentment for my miss's haughty conduct, but 
 only a tearful penitence for having been the cause of a strife 
 between us. Will's arguments and mine availed nothing. I 
 must lift her over the wall again, and she went home. When 
 we reached the garden we found Dolly seated beside her mother 
 on my grandfather's bench, from which stronghold our com- 
 bined tactics were powerless to drag her. 
 
 When Dolly was gone, I asked my grandfather in great in- 
 dignation why Patty did not play with the children I knew, 
 with Dorothy and the Fotheringays. He shook his head dubi- 
 ously. ''When you <ire older, Richard, you will understand 
 that our social ranks are cropped close. Mr. Swain is an honest
 
 OVER THE WALL 75 
 
 and an able man, though he believes in things I do not. I hear 
 he is becoming wealthy. And I have no doubt," the shrewd 
 old gentleman added, " that when Patty grows up she will be 
 going to the assemblies, though it was not so in my time." So 
 liberal was he that he used to laugh at my lifting her across 
 the wall, and in his leisure delight to listen to my accounts of 
 her childish housekeeping. Her life was indeed a contrast to 
 Dorothy^s. She had all the solid qualities that my lady lacked 
 in early years. And yet I never wavered in my liking to the 
 more brilliant and wayward of the two. The week before my 
 next birthday, when Mr. Carvel drew me to him and asked me 
 what I wished for a present that year, as was his custom, I 
 said promptly : — 
 
 "I should like to have Patty Swain at my party, sir." 
 
 " So you shall, my lad," he cried, taking his snuff and eying 
 me with pleasure. " I am glad to see, Richard, that you have 
 none of Mr. Marmaduke's nonsense about you. She is a good 
 girl, i' faith, and more of a lady now than many who call 
 themselves such. And you shall have your present to boot. 
 Hark'ee, Daniel," said he to the captain; "if the child comes 
 to my house, the poll-parrots and follow-me-ups will be wanting 
 her, too." 
 
 But the getting her to go was a matter of five days. For 
 Patty was sensitive, like her father, and dreaded a slight. Not 
 so with Master Tom, who must needs be invited, too. He 
 arrived half an hour ahead of time, arrayed like Solomon, and 
 without his sister ! I had to go for Patty, indeed, after the 
 party had begun, and to get the key to the wicket in the wall 
 to take her in that way, so shy was she. My dear grandfather 
 showed her particular attention. And Miss Dolly herself, being 
 in the humour, taught her a minuet. 
 
 After that she came to all my birthdays, and lost some of 
 her shyness. And was invited to other great houses, even as 
 Mr. Carvel had predicted. But her chief pleasure seemed ever 
 her duty. Whether or no such characters make them one and 
 the same, who can tell ? She became the light of her father's 
 house, and used even to copy out his briefs, at which task 1 
 often found her of an evening.
 
 76 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 As for Tom, that graceless scamp, I never could stomach 
 him, I wondered then, as I have since, how he was the brothei 
 of such a sister. He could scarce bide his time until Mr. Swain 
 should have a coach and a seat in the country with the gentry. 
 " A barrister," quoth he, " is as good as any one else. And if 
 my father came out a redemptioner, and worked his way, so 
 had old Mr. So and So. Our family at home was the equal of 
 his." All of which was true, and more. He would deride 
 Patty for sewing and baking, vowing that they had servants 
 enough now to do the work twice over. She bore with him 
 with a patience to be marvelled at ; and I could never get it 
 through my head why Mr. Swain indulged hiirv, though he was 
 the elder, and his mother's favourite. Tom began to dress 
 early. His open admiration was Dr. Courtenay, his confessed 
 hope to wear five-pound ruffles and gold sword knots. He 
 clung to Will Fotheringay with a tenacity that became pro- 
 verbial among us boys, and his boasts at King William's School 
 were his father's growing wealth and intimacy with the great 
 men of the province. 
 
 As I grew older, I took the cue of political knowledge, as I 
 have said, from Mr. Swain rather than Captain Daniel, who 
 would tell me nothing. I fell into the habit of taking supper 
 in Gloucester Street. The meal was early there. And when 
 the dishes were cleared away, and the barrister's pipe lit, and 
 Patty and her mother had got their sewing, he would talk by 
 the hour on the legality of our resistance to the King, and dis- 
 cuss the march of affairs in England and the other colonies. 
 He found me a ready listener, and took pains to teach me 
 clearly the right and wrong of the situation. 'Twas his reli- 
 gion, even as loyalty to the King was my grandfather's, and 
 he did not think it wrong to spread it. He likewise instilled 
 into me m that way more of history than Mr. Allen had ever 
 taught me, using it to throw light upon this point or that. 
 But I never knew his true power and eloquence until I fol- 
 sowed him to the Stadt House. 
 
 Patty was grown a girl of fifteen then, glowing with health, 
 and had ample good looks of her own. 'Tis odd enough that 
 I did not fall in love with her when Dolly began to use me
 
 OVER THE WALL 77 
 
 so outrageously. But a lad of eighteen is scarce a rational 
 creature. I went and sat before my oracle upon the vine- 
 covered porch under the eaves, and poured out my complaint 
 She laid down her needlework and laughed. 
 
 "You silly boy," said she, "can't you see that she herseli 
 has prescribed for you ? She was right when she told you to 
 show attention to Jenny. And if you dangle about Miss Dolly 
 now, you are in danger of losing her. She knows it better 
 than you." 
 
 I had Jenny to ride the very next day. Eesult : my lady 
 smiled on me more sweetly than ever when I went to Prince 
 George Street, and vowed Jenny had never looked prettier 
 than when she went past the house. This left my victory in 
 such considerable doubt that I climbed the back wall forthwith 
 in my new top-boots. 
 
 " So you looked for her to be angry ? " said Patty. 
 
 " Most certainly," said I. 
 
 " Unreasoning vanity ! " she cried, for she knew how to 
 speak plain. " By your confession to me you have done this 
 to please her, for she warned you at the beginning it would 
 please her. And now you complain of it. I believe I know 
 your Dorothy better than you." 
 
 And so I got but little comfort out of Patty that time.
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 UNDEK FALSE COLOURS 
 
 And now I come to a circumstance in my life I wovild rather 
 pass over quickly. Had I steered tlie straight course of my 
 impulse I need never have deceived that dear gentleman whom 
 I loved and honoured above any in this world, and with whom 
 I had always lived and dealt openly. After my grandfather 
 was pronounced to be mending, I went back to Mr. Allen until 
 such time as we should be able to go to the country. Philip 
 no longer shared my studies, his hours having been changed 
 from morning to afternoon. I thought nothing of this, bemg 
 content with the rector's explanation that my uncle had a task 
 for Philip in the morning, now that Mr. Carvel was better. 
 And I was well content to be rid of Philip's company. But as 
 the days passed I began to mark an absence still stranger. I 
 had my Horace and my Ovid still : but the two hours from 
 eleven to one, which he was wont to give up to history and 
 what he was pleased to call instruction in loyalty, were filled 
 with other matter. Not a word now of politics from Mr. Allen. 
 Not even a comment from him concerning the spirited doings 
 of our Assembly, with which the town was ringing. That 
 body had met but a while before, primed to act on the circu- 
 lar drawn up by Mr. Adams of Massachusetts. The Govern- 
 or's message had not been so prompt as to forestall them, and 
 I am occupied scarce the time in the writing of this that it 
 took our brave members to adopt the petition to his Majesty 
 and to pass resolutions of support to our sister colony of the 
 North. This being done, and a most tart reply penned to his 
 Excellency, they ended that sitting and passed in procession 
 to the Governor's mansion to deliver it, M* Speaker Lloyd at 
 
 78 .
 
 UNDER FALSE COLOURS 79 
 
 cheir head, and a vast concovirse of cheering people at their 
 heels. Shutters were barred on the Tory houses we passed. 
 And though Mr. Allen spied me in the crowd, he never men- 
 tioned the circumstance. More than once I essayed to draw 
 from him an opinion of Mr. Adams's petition, which was deemed 
 a work of great moderation and merit, and got nothing but 
 evasion from my tutor. That he had become suddenly an 
 American in principle I could not believe. At length I made 
 bold to ask him why our discussions were now omitted. He 
 looked up from the new play he was reading on the study 
 lounge, with a glance of dark meaning I could not fathom. 
 
 " You are learning more than I can teach you in Gloucester 
 Street, and at the Stadt House," he said. 
 
 In truth I was at a loss to understand his attitude until the 
 day in June my grandfather and I went to Carvel Hall. 
 
 The old gentleman was weak still, so feeble that he had to 
 be carried to his barge in a chair, a vehicle he had ever held in 
 scorn. But he was cheerful, and his spirit remained the same 
 as of old : but for that spirit I believe he had never again risen 
 from his bed in Marlboro' Street. My uncle and the rector 
 were among those who walked by his side to the dock, and 
 would have gone to the Hall with him had he permitted them. 
 He was kind enough to say that my arm was sutRcient to lean on. 
 
 What peace there was sitting once again under the rustling 
 trees on the lawn with the green river and the blue bay spread 
 out before us, and Scipio standing by with my grandfather's 
 punch. Mr. Carvel would have me rehearse again all that had 
 passed in town and colony since his illness, which I did with 
 as much moderation as I was able. And as we talked he 
 reached out and took my hand, for I sat near him, and said : — 
 
 "Richard, I have heard tidings of you that gladden my 
 heart, and they have done m'^re than Dr. Leiden's physic for 
 this old frame of mine. I well knew a Carvel could never go 
 a wrong course, lad, and you least of any." 
 
 " Tidings, sir ? " I said. 
 
 " Ay, tidings,''' answered Mr. Carvel. Such a note of relief 
 and gladness there was in the words as I had not heard foi 
 months from him, and a vague fear came upon m&
 
 80 RICHARD CARAMEL 
 
 *• Scipio," he said merrily, " a punch for Mr. Richard." And 
 when the glass was brought my grandfather added : " May it 
 be ever thus ! " 
 
 I drained the toast, not falling into his humour or compre- 
 hending his reference, but dreading that aught I might say 
 would disturb him, held my peace. And yet my apprehension 
 increased. He set down his glass and continued : — 
 
 " I had no hope of this yet, Richard, for you were ever slow 
 to change. Your conversion does credit to Mr. Allen as well 
 as to you. In short, sir, the rector gives me an excellent good 
 account of ycjr studies, and adds that the King hath gained 
 another loyal servant, for which I thank God." 
 
 I have no words to write of my feelings then. My head 
 swam and my hand trembled on my grandfather's, and I saw 
 dimly the old gentleman's face aglow with joy and pride, and 
 knew not what to say or do. The answer I framed, alas, re- 
 mained unspoken. From his own lips I had heard how much 
 the news had mended him, and for once I lacked the heart, 
 nay, the courage, to speak the truth. But Mr. Carvel took no 
 heed of my silence, setting it down to another cause. 
 
 " And so, my sou," he said, " there is no need of sending you 
 to Eton next fall. I am not much longer for this earth, and 
 can ill spare you : and Mr. Allen kindly consents to prepare 
 you for Oxford." 
 
 " Mr. Allen consents to that, sir ? " I gasped. I think, could 
 I have laid hands on the rector then, I would have thrashed 
 him, cloth and all, within an inch of his life. 
 
 And as if to crown my misery Mr. Carvel rose, and bearing 
 heavily on my shoulder led me to the stable where Harvey 
 and one of the black grooms stood in livery to receive ua. 
 Harvey held by the bridle a blooded bay hunter, and her like 
 could scarce be found in the colony. As she stood arching her 
 neck and pawing the ground, I all confusion and shame, my 
 grandfather said simply : — 
 
 " Richard, this is Firefly. I have got her for you from Mr. 
 Randolph, of Virginia, for you are now old enough to have a 
 good mount of your own." 
 
 All that night I lay awake, trying to sift some motive for
 
 UNDER FALSE COLOURS 81 
 
 Mr. Allen's deceit. For the life of me I could see no farther 
 than a desire to keep me as his pupil, since he was well paid 
 for his tuition. Still, the game did not seem worth the candle. 
 However, he was safe in his lie. Shrewd rogue that he was, 
 he well knew that I would not risk the attack a disappoint- 
 ment might bring my grandfather. 
 
 What troubled me most of all was the fear that Grafton had 
 reaped the advantage of the opportunity the illness gave him, 
 and by his insidious arts had worked himself back into the 
 good graces of his father. You must not draw from this, my 
 dears, that I feared for the inheritance. Praised be God, 1 
 never thought of that ! but I came by nature to hate and to 
 fear my uncle, as I hated and feared the devil. I saw him 
 with my father's eyes, and with my mother's, and as m}^ grand- 
 father had seen him in the old days when he was strong. 
 Instinct and reason alike made me loathe him. As the months 
 passed, and letters in Grafton's scroll hand came from the Kent 
 estate or from Annapolis, my misgivings were confirmed by 
 odd remarks that dropped from Mr. Carvel's lips. At length 
 arrived the revelation itself. 
 
 " I fear, Richard," he had said querulously, " I fear that all 
 these years I have done your uncle an injustice. Dear Eliza- 
 beth was wont to plead for him before she died, but I would 
 never listen to her. I was hearty and strong then, and my 
 heart was hard. And a remembrance of many things was 
 fresh m my mind." He paused for breath, as was his habit 
 now. And I said nothing. " But Grafton has striven to 
 wipe out the past. Sickness teaches us that we must condone, 
 and not condemn. He has lived a reputable life, and made 
 the most of the little start I gave him. He has supported his 
 Majesty and my Lord in most trying times. And his Excel- 
 lency tells me that the coming governor, Eden, will surely 
 reward him with a seat in the Council." 
 
 I thought of Governor Sharpe's biting words to Grafton. 
 The Governor knew my uncle well, and I was sure he had 
 never sat at his Council. 
 
 " A son is a son, Richard," continued Mr. Carvel, " You 
 will one day find that out. Your uncle has atoned. He hat'. 
 a
 
 82 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 been faithful during my illness, despite my cold treatment, 
 And he hath convinced me that your welfare is at his heart. 
 I believe he is fond of you, my lad." 
 
 No greater sign of breaking health did I need than this, that 
 Mr. Carvel should become blind to Grafton's hypocrisy ; forget 
 his attempts to prevent my father's marriage, and to throw 
 doubt upon my mother's birth. The agony it gave me, coming 
 as it did on top of the cruel deception, I shall not dwell upon. 
 And the thought bursting within me remained unspoken. 
 
 I saw less of Dorothy then than I had in any summer of 
 my life before. In spite of Mrs. Manners, the chrysalis had 
 burst into the butterfly, and Wilmot House had never been 
 so gay. It must be remembered that there were times when ' 
 young ladies made their entrance into the world at sixteen, 
 and for a beauty to be unmarried at twenty-two was rare 
 indeed. When I went to Wilmot House to dine, the table 
 would be always full, and Mr. Marmaduke simpering at the 
 head of it, his air of importance doubled by his reflected glory. 
 
 " We see nothing of you, my lad," he would say ; "you must 
 not let these young gallants get ahead of you. How does your 
 grandfather ? I must pay my compliments to-morrow." 
 
 Of gallants there were enough, to be sure. Dr. Courtenay, 
 of course, with a nosegay on his coat, striving to catch the 
 beauty's eye. And Mr. Worthington and Mr. Dulany, and 
 Mr. Fitzhugh and Mr. Paca. and I know not how many other 
 young bachelors of birth and means. And Will Fotheringay, 
 who spent some of his time with me at the Hall. Silver and 
 China, with the Manners coat-of-aruis, were laid out that had 
 not seen the light for many a long day. And there were pic- 
 nics, and sailing parties, and dances galore, some of which I 
 attended, but heard of more. It seemed to me that my lady 
 was tiring of the doctor's compliments, and had transferred 
 her fickle favour to young Mr. Fitzhugh, who was much more 
 worthy, by the way. As for me, I had troubles enough then, 
 and had become used in some sort to being shelved. 
 
 One night in July, — 'twas the very day Mr. Carvel had 
 spoken to me of Grafton, — I had ridden over to Wilmot 
 House to supper. I had little heart for going, but good Mrs.
 
 " Why do you not come over, as you used to ? "
 
 UNDER FALSE COLOURS 83 
 
 Manners herself had made me promise, and I could not break 
 my word. I must have sat very silent and preoccupied at the 
 table, where all was wit and merriment. And more than once 
 I saw the laughter leave Dorothy's face, and caught her eyes 
 upon me with such a look as set my heart throbbing. They 
 would not meet my own, but would turn away instantly. I was 
 heavy indeed that night, and did not follow the company into 
 the ball-room, but made my excuses to Mrs. Manners. 
 
 The lawn lay bathed in moonlight ; and as I picked my way 
 over it toward the stables for i'irefly, I paused to look back 
 at the house aglow with light, the music of the fiddles and 
 the sound of laughter floating out of the open windows. Even 
 as I gazed a white figure was framed in the doorway, paused 
 a moment on the low stone step, and then came on until it 
 stood beside me. 
 
 " Are you not well, Richard ? " 
 
 " Yes, I am well," I answered. I scarcely knew my own 
 voice. 
 
 *' Is your grandfather worse ? " 
 
 " No, Dorothy ; he seems better to-day." 
 
 She stood, seemingly irresolute, her eyes now lifted, now 
 falling before mine. Her slender arms bare, save for the 
 little puff at the shoulders ; her simple dress drawn a little 
 above the waist, then falling straight to the white slipper* 
 How real the ecstasy of that moment, and the pain of it ! 
 
 " Why do you not come over, as you used to ? " she asked 
 in a low tone. 
 
 " I am very busy," I replied evasively ; " Mr. Carvel cannot 
 attend to his affairs." I longed to tell her the whole truth, 
 but the words would not come. 
 
 " I hear you are managing the estate all alone," she said. 
 
 " There is no one else to do it." 
 
 "Richard," she cried, drawing closer, "you are in trouble. 
 I — I have seen it. You are so silent, and — and you seem to 
 have become older. Tell me, is it your Uncle Grafton ? " 
 
 So astonished was I at the question, and because she had 
 divined so surely, that I did not answer. 
 
 "Is it ?" she asked again.
 
 84 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 " Y'es," I said; "yes, in part." 
 
 And then came voices calling from the house. They had 
 missed her. 
 
 " I am so sorry, Richard. I shall tell no one." 
 
 She laid her hand ever so lightly upon mine and was gone. 
 I stood staring after her until she disappeared in the door. 
 All the way home I marvelled, my thoughts tumultuous, my 
 hopes rising and falling. 
 
 But when next I saw her, I thought she had forgotten. 
 
 We had little company at the Hall that year, on account of 
 Mr. Carvel. And I had been busy indeed. I sought with all 
 my might to master a business for which I had but little 
 taste, and my grandfather complimented me, before the season 
 was done, upon my management. I was wont to ride that 
 summer at four of a morning to canter beside Mr. Starkie 
 afield, and I came to know the yield of every patch to a hogs- 
 head and the pound price to a farthing. I grew to understand 
 as well as another the methods of curing the leaf. And the 
 wheat pest appearing that year, I had the good fortune to dis- 
 cover some of the clusters in the sheaves, and ground our 
 oyster-shells in time to save the crop. Many a long even- 
 ing I spent on the wharves with old Stanwix, now toothless 
 and living on his pension, with my eye on the glow of his 
 pipe and my ear bent to his stories of the sea. It was his 
 fancy that the gift of prophecy had come to him with the 
 years ; and at times, when his look would wander to the black 
 rigging in the twilight, he would speak strangely enough. 
 
 " Faith, Mr. Richard," he would say ; " tho' your father was 
 a soldier afore ye, ye were born to the deck of a ship-6'-war. 
 Mark an old man's words, sir." 
 
 "Can you see the frigate, Stanwix? " I laughed once, when 
 he had repeated this with more than common solemnity. 
 
 His reply rose above the singing of the locusts. 
 
 "Ay, sir, that I can. But she's no frigate, sir. Devil knows 
 what she is. She looks like a big merchantman to me, such 
 as I've seed in the Injy trade, with a high poop in the old 
 style. And her piercin's be not like a frigate." He said this 
 with a readiness to startle me, and little enough superstition I
 
 UNDER FALSE COLOURS 86 
 
 had. A light was on his seared face, and his pipe lay neglected 
 on the boards. " Ay, sir, and there be a flag astern of hei 
 never yet seed on earth, nor on the waters under the earth 
 The tide is settin' in, the tide is settin' in." 
 
 These were words to set me thinking. And many a time 
 they came back to me when the old man was laid away 
 in the spot reserved for those who sailed the seas for Mr. 
 Carvel. 
 
 Every week I drew up a report for my grandfather, anc 
 thus I strove by shouldering labour and responsibility to ease 
 my conscience of that load which troubled it. For often, as 
 we walked together through the 3^ellc\v fields of an evening, it 
 had been on my tongue to confess the lie Mr. Allen had led 
 me into. But the sight of the old man, trembling and tremu- 
 lous, aged by a single stroke, his childlike trust in my strength 
 and beliefs, and above all his faith in a political creed which 
 he nigh deemed needful for the soul's salvation, — these things 
 still held me back. Was it worth while now, I asked myself, 
 to disturb the peace of that mind ? 
 
 Thus the summer wore on to early autumn. And one day I 
 was standing booted and spurred in the stables, Harvey putting 
 the bridle upon Firefly, when my boy Hugo comes running in, 
 
 ''Marse Dick!" he cries, " Marse Satan he come in he pin- 
 nace, and young Marse Satan and Missis Satan, and Marse 
 Satan's pastor!" 
 
 " What the devil do you mean, Hugo ?" 
 
 "Young ebony's right, sir," chuckled Harvey; "'tis the devil 
 and his following." 
 
 " Do you mean Mr. Grafton, fellow ? " I demanded, the 
 unwelcome truth coming over me. 
 
 "That he does," remarked Harvey, laconically. "You won't 
 be wanting her now, your honour ? " 
 
 "Hold my stirrup," I cried, for the news had put me in 
 anger. " Hold my stirrup, sirrah ! " 
 
 1 believe I took Firefly the best of thirty miles that after- 
 ,noon and brought her back in the half-light, my saddle dis 
 coloured with her sweat. I clanked into the hall like a captain 
 of horse The night was sharp with the first touch of autumn^
 
 86 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 and a huge backlog lay on the irons. Around it, in a. comfort 
 able half-circle, sat our guests, Grafton and Mr. Allen and 
 Philip smoking and drinking for a whet against supper, and 
 Mrs. Grafton in my grandfather's chair. There was au 
 easy air of possession about the party of them that they had 
 never before assumed, and the sight made me rattle again the 
 big door behind me. 
 
 " A surprise for you, my dear nephew," Grafton said gayly. 
 ■• I'll lay a puncheon you did not expect us." 
 
 Mr. Carvel woke with a start at the sound of the door and 
 said querulously, " Guests, my lad, and I have done mj poor 
 best to make them welcome in your absence." 
 
 The sense of change in him stung me. How different would 
 his tone have been a year ago ! 
 
 He tattooed with his cane, which was the sign he generally 
 made when he was ready for bed. Toward night his speech 
 would hurt him. I assisted him up the stairs, my uncle taking 
 his arm on the other side. And together, with Diomedes's help, 
 we undressed him, Grafton talking in low tones the while. 
 Since this was an office I was wont to perform, my temper was 
 now overwhelming me. But I kept my mouth closed. At 
 last he had had the simple meal Dr. Leiden allowed him, his 
 candles were snuffed, and my uncle and I made our way to 
 the hall together. There my aunt and Mr. Allen were at 
 picquet. 
 
 "Supper is insupportably late," says she, with a yawn, and 
 rings the hand-bell. " Scipio," she cries, " why are we not 
 served?" 
 
 I took a stride forward. But my uncle raised a restraining 
 hand. 
 
 "Caroline, remember that this is not our house," says he, 
 reprovingly. 
 
 There fell a deep silence, the log cracking; and just then 
 the door swung on its hinges, and Mr. Starkie entered with 
 the great bunch of keys in his hand. 
 
 " The buildings are all secure, Mr. Richard," he said. 
 
 "Very good, Starkie," I replied. I turned to Scipio, stand, 
 ing by the low-boy, his teeth going like a castanet.
 
 UNDER FALSE COLOURS 87 
 
 " You may serve at tlie usual hour, Scipio," said I. 
 
 Supper began stiff as a state banquet. My uncle was con- 
 ciliatory, with the manners of a Crichton. My aunt, not hav- 
 ing come from generations of silver and self-control, flatly in 
 a bad humour. Mr. Allen talked from force of habit, being 
 used to pay in such kind for his meals. But presently the 
 madeira warmed these two into a better spirit. I felt that \ 
 had victory on my side, and was nothing loth to join them at 
 whist, Philip and I against the rectoi and my aunt, and won 
 something like two pounds apiece from them. Grafton made 
 it a rule never to play. 
 
 The next morning, when I returned from my inspection, I 
 found the rector and Philip had decamped with two of our 
 choice horses, and that my uncle and aunt had commanded 
 the barge, and gone to Mr. Lloyd's. I sent for Scipio. 
 
 " Fore de Lawd, Marse Richard," he wailed, " 'twan't Scipio's 
 fault. Marse Grafton is de fambly ! " This was Scipio's strong- 
 est argument. "I jes' can't refuse one of de fambly, Marse 
 Dick ; and old Marse he say he too old now for quarrellin'." 
 
 I saw that resistance was useless. There was nothing for it 
 but to bide my time. And I busied myself with bills of cargo 
 until I heard the horses on the drive. Mr. Allen and Philip 
 came swaggering in, flushed with the exercise, and calling for 
 punch, and I met them in the hall. 
 
 " A word with you, Mr. Allen ! " I called out. 
 
 "A thousand, Mr. Richard, if you like," he said gayly, "as 
 soon as this thirst of mine be quenched." 
 
 I waited while he drained two glasses, when he followed me 
 into the library, closing the door behind him. 
 
 *' Now, sir," I began, " though by a chance you are my mental 
 and spiritual adviser, I intend speaking plain. For I know you 
 to be one of the greatest rogues in the colony." 
 
 I watched him narrowly the while, for I had some notion 
 he might run me through. But I had misjudged him. 
 
 " Speak plain, by all means," he replied ; " but first let me 
 ask for some tobacco." 
 
 He filled the bowl of his pipe, and sat him down by the ■win- 
 dow. For the moment I was silent with sheer surprise.
 
 88 RICHAPvD CAEVEL 
 
 " You know I can't call you out," he went on, surrounding 
 iiimself with clouds of smoke, " a lad of eighteen or so. And 
 even if I could, I doubt whether I should. I like you, Eich- 
 ard,"saidhe. " You are straight-spoken and commanding. In 
 brief, sir, you are the kind of lad I should have been had not 
 fate pushed me into a corner, and made me squirm for life's 
 luxuries. I hate squirming as much as another. This is prime 
 tobacco, Eichard." 
 
 He had come near disarming me ; I was on the edge of a 
 dangerous admiration for this man of the world, and for the 
 life of ni3, I could not help liking him then. He had a fine 
 presence, was undeniably handsome, and his riding clothes 
 were of the latest London cut. 
 
 " Are there not better methods for obtaining what you wish 
 tnan those you practise ? " I asked curiously. 
 
 "jSTo doubt," he answered carelessly; "but these are well 
 enough, and shorter. You were about to do me the honour of 
 a communication ? " 
 
 This brought me to my senses, I had, however, lost much 
 of my heat in the interval. 
 
 " I should like to know why you lied to Mr. Carvel about 
 my convictions, Mr. Allen," I said. " I am not of the King's 
 party now, and never shall be. And you know this better than 
 another." 
 
 " Those are strong words, Eichard, my lad," said he, bring- 
 ing his eyebrows together. 
 
 " They are true words," I retorted. " Why did you lie, 
 I say ? " 
 
 He said nothing for a while, but his breath came heavily. 
 
 " I will pass it, I will pass it," he said at length, " but, by 
 God ! it is more than I have had to swallow in all my life be- 
 fore. Look at your grandfather, sir ! " he cried ; " behold him 
 on the very brink of the grave, and ask me again why I lied 
 to him ! His hope of heaven is scarce less sacred to him than 
 his love of the King, and both are so tightly wrapped about his 
 heart that this knowledge of you would break it. Yes, break 
 his heart, I say " (and he got to his legs), " and you would kill 
 him for the sake of a boyish fanjy '. "
 
 UNDER FALSE COLOURS 89 
 
 I knew he was acting, as well as though he had climbed upon 
 the table and said it. And yet he had struck the very note of 
 my own fears, and hit upon the one reason why I had not con- 
 fessed long ago. 
 
 "There is more you might have said, Mi-. Allen," I remarked 
 presently; "you have a cause for keeping me unde^r your in- 
 struction, and that is behind all." 
 
 He gave me a strange look. 
 
 "You are too acute by far," said he; "your imagination 
 runs with you. I have said I like you, and I can teach you 
 classics as well as another. Is it not enough to admit that 
 the money I get for your instruction keeps me in cham- 
 pagne ? " 
 
 " No, it is not enough," I said stoutly. 
 
 "Then yo^i must guess again, my lad," he answered with a 
 laugh, and left the room with the easy grace that distinguished 
 him. 
 
 There was armed peace the rest of my uncle's visit. They de- 
 parted on the third day. My Aunt Caroline, when she was not 
 at picquet with Mr. Allen or quarrelling with Mrs. Willis or with 
 Grafton himself, yawned without cessation. She declared in 
 one of her altercations with her lord and master that she would 
 lose her wits were they to remain another day, a threat that did 
 not seem to move Grafton greatly. Philip ever maintained 
 the right to pitch it on the side of his own convenience, and he 
 chose in this instance to come to the rescue of his dear mamma, 
 and turned the scales in her favour. He was pleased to char- 
 acterize the Hall as insupportable, and vowed that his clothes 
 would be out of fashion before they reached Rousb}^ Hall, their 
 next stopping-place. To do Philip justice, he was more hon- 
 est a rascal than his father, tho' I ain of the opinion that he 
 had not the brain for great craft. And he had drawn from 
 his mother a love of baubles which kept his mind from schem- 
 ing. He had little to say to me, and I less to him. 
 
 Grafton, as may be supposed, made me distinct advances 
 before his departure, perceiving the unwisdom of antagoniz- 
 ing me unnecessarily. He had the imprudence once to ask 
 of me the facts and figures of the estate ; and tho' 'twas skil-
 
 90 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 fully done by contrasting his own crops in Kent, you may be 
 sure I was on my guard, and that he got nothing. 
 
 I was near forgetting an incident of their visit which I after- 
 wards had good cause to remember. The morning of my talk 
 with Mr. Allen I went to the stables to see how he had used 
 Cynthia, alid found old Harvey wiping her down, and rumbling 
 the while like a crater. 
 
 " What think you of the rector as a representative of heaven, 
 Harvey ? " I asked. 
 
 " Him a representative of heaven ! " he snorted ; " I've heard 
 tell of rotten boroughs, and I'm thinking Mr. Allen will be 
 standing for one. What be him and Mr. Grafton adoing here, 
 sir, plotting all kinds o' crime while the old gentleman's nigh 
 on his back ? " 
 
 '' Plotting ? " I said, catching at the word._ 
 
 "Ay, plotting," repeated Harvey, casting his cloth away; 
 " murder and all the crimes in the calendar, I take it. I hear 
 him and Mr. Grafton among the stalls this morning, and when 
 they sees me they look like Knipe, here, caught with a fowl." 
 
 " And what were they saymg ? " I demanded. 
 
 "Saying! God only knows their wickedness. I got the 
 words 'Upper Marlboro'' and 'South River' and 'next voy- 
 age,' and that profligate rector wanted to know as to how 
 * Griggs was reliable.' " 
 
 I thought no more of it at the time, believing it to be some 
 of the small rascalities they were forever at. But that name 
 of Griggs (why, the powers only know) stuck in my mind to 
 turn up again.
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 THE RED IN THE CARVEL BLOOD 
 
 After that, when we went back to Annapolis for the winter, 
 there was no longer any disguise between my tutor and my- 
 self. I was not of a mind to feign a situation that did not 
 exist, nor to permit him to do so. I garve him to understand 
 that tho' I went to him for instruction, 'twas through no fault 
 of mine. That I would learn what I pleased and do what 
 oleased me. And the rector, a curse npon him, seemed well 
 content with that ; nor could I come at his devil's reason for 
 wanting me, save for the money, as he had declared. There 
 were days when he and I never touched a book, both being 
 out of humour for study, when he told me yarns of Frederick 
 of Prussia and his giant guard, of Florence and of Venice, and 
 of the court of his Holiness of Rome. For he had drifted 
 about the earth like a log-end in the Atlantic, before his Lord 
 ship gave him his present berth. We passed, too, whole morn- 
 ings at picquet, I learning enough of Horace to quote at the 
 routs we both attended, but a deal more of kings and deuces. 
 And this I may add, that he got no more of my money than 
 did I of his. 
 
 The wonder of it was that we never became friends. He 
 was two men, this rector of St. Anne's, half of him as lovable 
 as any I ever encountered. But trust him I never would, al- 
 ways meeting him on the middle ground ; and there were times, 
 after his talks with Grafton, when his eyes were like a cat's, 
 and I was conscious of a sinister note in his dealing which 
 put me on my guard. 
 
 You will say, my dears, that some change had come over me, 
 that I WHS no longer the same lad I have been telling you of. 
 
 91
 
 92 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 Those days were not these, yet I make no show of hiding oi 
 of palliation. Was it Dorothy's conduct that drove me ? Not 
 wholly. A wild red was ever in the Carvel blood, in Captain 
 Jack, in Lionel, in the ancestor of King Charles's day, who 
 fought and bled and even gambled for his king. And my 
 grandfather knew this ; he warned me, but he paid my debts. 
 And I thank Heaven he felt that my heart was right. 
 
 I was grown now, certainly in stature. And having man- 
 aged one of the largest plantations in the province, I felt 
 the man, as J ads are wont after their first responsibilities. I 
 commanded my wine at the Coffee House with the best of 
 the bucks, and was made a member of the South River and 
 Jockey clubs. I wore the clothes that came out to me from 
 London, and vied in .fashion with Dr. Courtenay and other 
 macaronies. And I drove a carriage of mine own, the Carvel 
 arms emblazoned thereon, and Hugo in the family livery. 
 
 After a deal of thought upon the subject, I decided, for 
 a while at least, to show no political leanings at all. And 
 this was easier of accomplishment than you may believe, 
 for at that time in Maryland Tory and Whig were amiable 
 enough, and the young gentlemen of the first families dressed 
 alike and talked alike at the parties they both attended. The 
 non-importation association had scarce made itself felt in the 
 dress of society. Gentlemen of degree discussed differences 
 amicably over their decanters. And only on such occasiongf 
 as Mr. Hood's return, and the procession of the Lower House 
 through the streets, and the arrival of the Good Intent, did 
 high words arise among the quality. And it was because 
 class distinctions were so strongly marked that it took so 
 long to bring loyalists and patriots of high rank to the 
 sword's point. 
 
 I found time to manage such business affairs of Mr. Car- 
 vel's as he could not attend to himself. Grafton and his 
 family dined in Marlboro' Street twice in the week ; my uncle's 
 conduct toward me was the very soul of consideration, and he 
 compelled that likewise from his wife and his son. So circum- 
 spect was he that he would have fooled one who knew him 
 a whit less than I. He qiiestioned me closely upon my jtudiea,
 
 THE RED IN THE CARVEL BLOOD 93 
 
 and in my grandfather's presence 1 was forced to answer. 
 And when the rector came to dine and read to Mr. Carvel, my 
 uncle catechised him so searchingly on my progress that he 
 was pushed to the last source of his ingenuity for replies. 
 M'^re than once was I tempted to blurt out the whole wretched 
 business, for I well understood there was some deep game be- 
 tween him and Grafton. In my uncle's absence, my aunt 
 never lost a chance for an ill-natured remark upon Patty, 
 whom she had seen that winter at the assemblies and else- 
 where. And she deplored the state our people of fashion were 
 coming to, that they allowed young girls without faiuily to 
 attend their balls. 
 
 " But we can expect little else, father," she would say to 
 Mr. Carvel nodding in his chair, "when some of our best 
 famrlies openly espouse the pernicious doctrines of republi- 
 canism. They are gone half mad over that Wilkes, who 
 should have been hung before this. Philip, dear, pour the 
 wme for your grandfather." 
 
 Miss Patty had been well received. I took her to her first 
 assembly, where her simple and unassuming ways had made 
 her an instant favourite ; and her face, which had the beauty 
 of dignity and repose even so early in life, gained her ample 
 attention. I think she would have gone but little had not 
 her father laughed her out of some of her domesticity. No 
 longer at Sunday night supper in Gloucester Street was the 
 guest seat empty. There was more than one guest seat now, 
 and the honest barrister himself was the most pleased at the 
 change. As I took my accustomed place on the settle cushion, 
 — Patty's first embroidery, — he would cry : — 
 
 " Heigho, Richard, our little Miss Prim hath become a belle. 
 And I must have another clerk now to copy out my briefs, and 
 a housekeeper soon, i' faith." 
 
 Patty would never fail to flush up at the words, and run 
 to perch on her father's knee and put her hand over his 
 mouth. 
 
 "How can you, Mr. Swaiu ? " says she; "how can you, 
 when 'tis you and mother, and Richard here, who make me 
 go into the world? You know I would a thousand times
 
 94 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 rather bake your cakes and clean your silver ! But you wil 
 not hear of it." 
 
 " Fie ! " says the barrister. " Listen to her, Richard ! And 
 yet she will fly up the stairs to don a fine gown at the first 
 rap of the knocker. Oh, the wenches, the wenches! Are 
 they not all alike, mother ? " 
 
 "They have changed none since I was a lass," replies the 
 quiet invalid, with a smile. "And you should know what 
 I was, Henry." 
 
 "Know!" cries he; "none better. Well I recall the salmon 
 and white your mother gave you before I came to Salem." He 
 sighed and then laughed at the recollection. " And when 
 this strapping young Singleton comes, Richard, 'twould do you 
 good to be hiding there in that cupboard, — and it would hold 
 you, — and count the seconds until Miss Prim has her skirt 
 in her hand and her foot on the lower step; And yet how 
 innocent is she now before you and me." 
 
 Here he would invariably be smothered. 
 
 " Percy Singleton ! " says Patty, with a fine scorn ; " 'twill 
 be Mr. Eglinton, the curate, next." 
 
 " This I know," says her father, slapping me on the shoul- 
 der, "this I know, that you are content to see Richard without 
 primping." 
 
 " But I have known Richard since I was six," says she. 
 " Richard is one of the family. There is no need of disguise 
 from him." 
 
 I thought, ruefully enough, that it seemed my fate to be one 
 of the family everywhere I went. 
 
 And just then, as if in judgment, the gate snapped and the 
 knocker sounded, and Patty leaped down with a blush. "What 
 did I say ? " cries the barrister, " I have not seen human 
 nature in court for naught. Run, now," says he, pinching her 
 cheek as she stood hesitating whether to fly or stay ; " run and 
 put on the new dress I have bought you. And Richard and I 
 will have a cup of ale in the study." 
 
 The visitor chanced to be Will Fotheringay that time. He 
 was not the only one worn out with the mad chase in Prince 
 George Street, and preferred a quiet evening with a quiet
 
 THE RED IN THE CARVEL BLOOD 95 
 
 beauty to the crowded lists of Miss Manners. Will declared 
 that the other gallants were fools over the rare touch of blue 
 in the black hair : give him Miss Swain's, quoth he, lifting his 
 glass, — hers was the colour of a new sovereign. Will was not 
 the only one. But I think Percy Singleton was the best of 
 them all, tho' Patty ridiculed him every chance she got, 
 . nd even to his face. So will the best-hearted and soberest of 
 women play the coquette. Singleton was rather a reserved 
 young Englishman of four and twenty, who owned a large 
 estate in Talbot, which he was laying out with great success. 
 Of a Whig family in the old country, he had been drawn to 
 that party in the new, and so had made Mr. Swain's acquaint- 
 ance. The next step in his fortunes was to fall in love with 
 Patty, which was natural enough. Many a night that winter 
 I walked with him from Gloucester Street to the Coffee House, 
 fco sit an hour over a bottle. And there Master Tom and Dr. 
 Hamilton, and other gay macaronies would sometimes join us. 
 Singleton had a greater contempt for Tom than I, but bore 
 with him for his sister's sake. For Tom, in addition to his 
 other follies, was become an open loyalist, and never missed 
 his Majesty's health, though he knew no better than my Hugo 
 the question at issue. 'Twas not zeal for King George, how- 
 ever, that made him drunk at one of the assemblies, and 
 forced his sister to leave in the midst of a dance for very 
 shame. 
 
 "Oh, Richard, is there not something you can do?" she 
 cried, when I had got her back in the little parlour in Glouces- 
 ter Street ; " father has argued and pleaded and threatened 
 in vain. I thought, — I thought perhaps you might help 
 him." 
 
 " I think I am not one to preach, or to boast," I replied 
 soberly. 
 
 " Yes," said she, looking grave ; " I know you are wilder 
 than you used to be ; that you play more than you ought, and 
 higher than you ought." 
 
 I was silent. 
 
 " And I suspect at whose door it lies," said she. 
 
 " 'Tis in the blood, Patty," I answered.
 
 96 EICHARD CARVEL 
 
 She glanced at me quickly. 
 
 " I know you better than you think," she said. " But Tom 
 has not your excuse. And if he had only your faults I would 
 say nothing. He does not care for those he should, and he is 
 forever in the green-room of the theatre." 
 
 I made haste to change the subject, and to give her what 
 comfort I might; for she was sobbing before she finished. 
 And the next day I gave Tom a round talking-to for having so 
 little regard for his sister, the hem of whose skirt he was not 
 worthy to touch. He took it meekly enough, with a barrel of 
 pat excuses to come after. And he asked me to lend him my 
 phaeton, that he might go a-driving with Miss Crane, of the 
 theatrical company, to Hound Bay ! 
 
 Meanwhile I saw Miss Maujiers more frequently than was 
 good for my peace of mind, and had my turn as her partner 
 at the balls. But I could not bring myself to take third or 
 fourth rank in the army that attended her. I, who had been 
 her playmate, would not become her courtier. Besides, I had 
 not the wit. 
 
 Was it strange that Dr. Courtenay should pride himself upon 
 the discovery of a new beauty ? And in the Coffee House, 
 and in every drawing-room in town, prophesy for her a career 
 of conquest such as few could boast ? She was already launched 
 upon that career. And rumour had it that Mr. Marmaduke 
 was even then considering taking her home to London, where 
 the stage was larger and the triumph greater. Was it surpris- 
 ing that the Gazette should contain a poem with the doctor's 
 well-known ear-marks iipon it? It set the town a-wagging, 
 and left no room for doubt as to who had inspired it. 
 
 " Sweet Pandora, tho' formed of Clay, 
 Was fairer than the Light of Day. 
 By Venus learned in Beauty's Arts, 
 And destined thus to conquer Hearts. 
 A Goddess of tliis Town, I ween, 
 Fair as Pandora, scarce Sixteen, 
 Is destined, e'en by Jove's Command, 
 To conquer all of Maryland. 
 Oh, Bachelors, piay have a Care, 
 "For She will all your Hearts ensnare."
 
 THE RED IN THE CARVEL BLOOD 97 
 
 So it ran. I think, if dear Mrs. Manners oould have had 
 her way, Dolly would have passed that year at a certain young 
 ladies' school in Xew York. But Mr. Marniaduke's pride in 
 his daughter's beauty got the better of her. The strut in his 
 gait became more marked the day that poera appeared, and he 
 went to the Coffee House both morning and evening, taking 
 snuff to hide his emotions when Miss Manners was spoken of ; 
 and he was perceived by many in Church Street arm in arm 
 with Dr. Courtenay himself. 
 
 As you may have imagined before now, the doctor's profes- 
 sion was leisure, not medicine. He had known ambition once, 
 it was said, and with reason, for he had studied surgery in 
 Germany for the mere love of the science. After which, mak- 
 ing the grand tour in France and Italy, he had taken up that 
 art of being a gentleman in which men became so proficient in 
 my young days. He had learned to speak French like a Pari- 
 sian, had hobnobbed with wit and wickedness from Versailles 
 to Rome, and then had come back to Annapolis to set the 
 fashions and to spend the fortune his uncle lately had left 
 him. He was our censor of beauty, and passed judgment 
 upon all young ladies as they stepped into the arena. To be 
 noticed by him meant success ; to be honoured in the Gazette 
 was to be crowned at once a reigning belle. The chord of his 
 approval once set a-vibrating, all minor chords sang in har- 
 mony. And it was the doctor who raised the first public toast 
 to Miss Manners. Alas ! I might have known it would be so ! 
 
 But Miss Dorothy was not of a nature to remain dependent 
 upon a censor's favour. The minx deported herself like any 
 London belle of experience, as tho' she had known the world 
 from her ^^radle. She w^as not to be deceived by the face 
 value of the ladies' praises, nor rebuffed unmercifully by my 
 Aunt Caroline, who had held the sceptre in the absence of a 
 younger aspirant. The first time these ladies clashed, which 
 was not long in coming, my aunt met with a wit as sharp again 
 as her own, and never afterwards essayed an open tilt. The 
 homage of men Dolly took as Caesar received tribute, as a 
 matter of course. The doctor himself rode to the races bt^side 
 the Manners coacb, leaning gallantly over the door. My 
 
 H
 
 98 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 lady held court in her father's box, received and dismissed, 
 smiled and frowned, with Courtenay as her master of cere- 
 monies. Mr. Dulany was one of the presidents of the Jockey 
 Club that year, aud his horse winning the honours he pre- 
 sented her with his colours, scarlet and white, which she 
 graciously wore. The doctor swore he would import a horse 
 the next season on the chance of the privilege. My aunt was 
 furious. I- have never mentioned her beauty because I never 
 could see it. 'Twas a coarser type than attracted me. She 
 was then not greatly above six and thirty, appearing young 
 for that age, and she knew the value of lead in judicious quan- 
 tity. At that meet gentlemen came to her box only to talk of 
 Miss Manners, to marvel that one so young could have the bel 
 air, to praise her beauty and addresse, or to remark how well 
 Mr. Dulany 's red and white became her. With all of which 
 Mrs. Grafton was fain to agree, and must even excel, until her 
 small stock of patience was exhausted. To add to her chagrin 
 my aunt lost a pretty sum to the rector by Mr. Dulany's horse. 
 I came upon her after the race trying to coax her head-dress 
 through her coach door, Mr. Allen having tight hold of her 
 hand the while. 
 
 " And so he thinks he has found a divinity, does he ? " I 
 overheard her saying. ''I, for one, am heartily sick of Dr. 
 Courtenay's notions. Were he to choose a wench out of the 
 King's passengers I'd warrant our macaronies to compose odes 
 to her eyebrows." And at that moment perceiving me she 
 added, "Why so disconsolate, my dear nephew? Miss Dolly 
 is the craze now, and will last about as long as another of the 
 doctor's whims. And then you shall have her to yourself." 
 
 " A pretty woman is ever the fashion. Aunt Caroline," I said. 
 
 "Hoity-toity," returned my aunt, who had by then succeeded 
 in getting her head-gear safe within ; " the fashion, yes, until 
 a prettier comes along." 
 
 "There is small danger of that for the present," I said, 
 smiling. " Surely you can find no fault with this choice ! " 
 
 " Gadzooks ! If I were blind, sir, I think I might ! " she 
 cried unguardedly. 
 
 " I will not dispute that, Aunt Caroline," I answered.
 
 THE EED IN THE CARVEL BLOOD 99 
 
 And as I rode off 1 heard her giving directions in no mild 
 tone to the coachman through Mr. Allen. 
 
 Perchance you did not know, my dears, that Annapolis had 
 the first theatre in all the colonies. And if you care to search 
 through the heap of Maryland Gazettes in the garret, I make 
 no doubt you will come across this announcement for a certain 
 night in the spring of the year 1769 : — 
 
 By Permission of his Excellency, the Governor, 
 
 at the New Theatre in Annapolis, 
 
 by the American Company of Comedians, on Monday 
 
 next, being the 22nd of this Instant, will be performed 
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET. 
 
 (Romeo by a young Gentleman for his Diversion.) 
 Likewise the Farce called 
 
 Miss in hkr Teens. 
 
 To begin precisely at Seven of the Clock. Tickets 
 
 to be had at the Printing Oifice. Box 10s. Pit Is 6d. 
 
 No Person to be admitted behind the Scenes. 
 
 The gentleman to perform Eomeo was none other than Dr. 
 Courtenay himself. He had a gentlemanly passion for the 
 stage, as was the fashion in those days, and had organized 
 many private theatricals. The town was in a ferment over 
 the event, boxes being taken a week ahead. The doctor him- 
 self writ the epilogue, to be recited by the beautiful Mrs. 
 Hallam, who had inspired him the year before to compose 
 that famous poem beginning : — 
 
 " Around her see the Graces play, 
 
 See Venus' Wanton doves, 
 And in her Eye's Pellucid Ray 
 
 See little Laughing Loves. 
 Ye gods ! 'Tis Cytherea's Face." 
 
 You may find that likewise in Mr. Green's newspaper. 
 
 The new theatre was finished in West Street that spring, 
 the old one having proven too small for our gay capital. 
 'Twas then the best in the New World, the censor having 
 pronounced it far above any provincial playhouse he had seen
 
 100 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 abroad. The scenes were very fine, tlie boxes carved and 
 gilded in excellent good taste, and both pit and gallery com- 
 modious. And we, too, had our " Fops' Alley," where our 
 macaronies ogled the fair and passed from box to box, 
 
 For that night of nights when the doctor acted I received an 
 invitation from Dolly to Mr. Marmaduke's box, and to supper 
 afterward in Prince George Street. When I arrived, the play- 
 house was lit with myriad candles, — to be snuffed save the 
 footlights presently, — and the tiers were all brilliant with 
 the costumes of ladies and gentlemen. Miss Tayloe and Miss 
 Dulany were of ^ur party, with Fitzhugh and Worthington, 
 and Mr. Manners for propriety. The little fop spent his 
 evening, by the way, in a box opposite, where my Aunt 
 Caroline gabbled to him and Mr. Allen during the whole per- 
 formance. My lady got more looks than any in the house. 
 She always dre^; admiration, indeed, but there had been much 
 speculation of late whether she favoured Dr. Courtenay or 
 Fitzhugh, and some had it that the doctor's acting would 
 decide between the two. 
 
 When Romeo came upon the stage he was received with 
 loud applause. But my lady showed no interest, — not she, — 
 while the doctor fervently recited, " Out of her favour, where 
 I am in love." In the first orchard scene, with the boldness 
 of a practised lover, he almost ignored Mrs. Hallam in the 
 balcony. It seemed as though he cast his burning words and 
 languishing glances at my lady in the box, whereupon there 
 , was a deal of nudging round about. Miss asked for her 
 smelling salts, and declared the place was stifling. But I 
 think if the doctor had cherished a hope of her affections he 
 lost it when he arrived at the lines, "She speaks, yet she says 
 nothing." At that unhappy moment Miss Dorothy was deep 
 in conversation with Fitzhugh, the audible titter in the audi- 
 ence arousing her. How she reddened when she perceived 
 the faces turned her way ! 
 
 "What was it, Betty?" she demanded quickly. 
 
 But Betty was not spiteful, and would not tell. Fitzhugh 
 himself explained, and to his sorrow, for .luring the rest of the 
 evening she would have nothing to do with him. Presently
 
 THE RED IN THE CARVEL BLOOD 101 
 
 she turned to me. Glancing upward to where Patty leaned on 
 the rail between Will Fotheringay and Singleton, she whis- 
 pered : — 
 
 "I wonder you can sit here so quiet, Richard. You are 
 showing a deal of self-denial." 
 
 " I am happy enough," 1 answered, surprised. 
 
 " I hear you have a rival," says she. 
 
 " I know I have a dozen," I answered. 
 
 " I saw Percy Singleton walking with her in Mr. Galloway's 
 fields but yesterday," said Dolly, "and as they came out 
 upon the road they looked as guilty as if I had surprised them 
 arm in arm." 
 
 Now that she should think I cared for Patty never entered 
 my head. I was thrown all in a heap. 
 
 " You need not be so disturbed," whispers my lady. " Sin- 
 gleton has a crooked mouth, and I credit Patty with ample 
 sense to choose between you. I adore her, Richard. I wish I 
 had her sweet ways." 
 
 " But," I interrupted, when I was somewhat recovered, 
 " why should 3^ou think me in love with Patty ? I have never 
 been accused of that before." 
 
 " Oh, fie ! You deny her ? " says Dolly. " I did not think 
 that of you, Richard." 
 
 "You should know better," I replied, with some bitterness. 
 
 We were talking in low tones, Dolly with her head turned 
 from the stage, whence the doctor was flinging his impassioned 
 speeches in vain. And though the light fell not upon her 
 face, I seemed to feel her looking me through and through. 
 
 " You do not care for Patty ?" she Avhispered. And I thought 
 a quiver of earnestness was in her voice. Her face was so 
 close to mine that her breath fanned my cheek. 
 
 "No," I said. "Why do you ask me? Have I ever been 
 one to make pretences ? " 
 
 She turned away. 
 
 "But you," I said, bending to her ear, "is it Fitzhugh, Doro- 
 thy?" 
 
 I heard her laugh softly. 
 
 " No," said she, " I thought you might divine, sir.*'
 
 102 KICHAED CARVEL 
 
 Was it possible? And yet she liad played so much with 
 me that I dared not risk the fire. She had too many accom- 
 plished gallants at her feet to think of Richard, who had no 
 novelty and no wit. I sat still, barely conscious of the rising 
 and falling voices beyond the footlights, feeling only her living 
 presence at my side. She spoke not another word until the 
 playhouse servants had relighted the chandeliers, and Dr. 
 Courtenay came in, flushed with triumph, for his mead of 
 praise. 
 
 "And how went it, Miss Manners ? " says he, very confident. 
 
 "Why, you fell over the orchard wall, doctor," retorts my 
 lady. "La! I believe I could have climbed it better myself." 
 
 And all he got was a hearty laugh for his pains, Mr. Mar- 
 maduke joining in from the back of the box. And the story 
 was at the Coffee House early on the morrow.
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 A FESTIVAL AND A PARTING 
 
 My grandfather and I were seated at table together. It was 
 eurly June, the birds were singing in the garden, and the sweet 
 odours of the flowers were wafted into the room. 
 
 "Richard," says he, when Scipio had poured his claret. 
 " my illness cheated you out of your festival last year. I dare 
 swear you deem yourself too old for birthdays now." 
 
 I laughed. 
 
 "So it is with lads," said Mr. Carvel; "they will rush into 
 manhood as heedless as you please. Take my counsel, boy, 
 and remain young. Do not cross the bridge before you have 
 to. And I have been thinking that we shall have your f§te 
 this year, albeit you are grown, and Miss Dolly is the belle of 
 the province. 'Tis like sunshine into my old heart to see the 
 lads and lasses again, and to hear the merry, merry fiddling 
 I will have his new Excellency, who seems a good and a kindly 
 man, and Lloyd and Tilghman and Dulany and the rest, with 
 their ladies, to sit Avith me. And there will be plenty of punch 
 and syllabub and sangaree, I warrant; and tarts and jellies and 
 custards, too, for the misses. Ring for Mrs. Willis, my son." 
 
 Willis came with her curtsey to the old gentleman, who 
 gave his order then and there. He never waited for a fancy 
 of this kind to grow cold. 
 
 "We shall all be children again, on that day, Mrs. Willis," 
 says he. "And I catch any old people about, they shall be 
 thrust straight in the town stocks, i' faith." 
 
 Willis made another curtsey. 
 
 "We missed it sorely, last year, please your honour," says 
 she, and departs smiling. 
 
 103
 
 104 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 "And you shall have your Patty Swain, Richard," Mr. Car- 
 vel continued. " Do you mind liow you once asked the favour of 
 inviting her in the place of a present? Oons ! I loved you for 
 that, boy. 'Twas like a Carvel. And I love that lass, Whig 
 or no Whig. 'Ron my soul, I do. She hath demureness and 
 dignity, and suits me better than yon whimsical baggage you 
 are all mad over. I'll have Mr. Swain beside me, too. I'll 
 warrant I'd teach his daughter loyalty in a day, and I had 
 again your years and your spirit! " 
 
 I have but to close my eyes, and my fancy takes me back to 
 that birthday festival. Think of it, my dears! Near three- 
 score years are gone since then, when this old man you call 
 grandfather, and some — bless me! — great-grandfather, was a 
 lusty lad like Comyn here. But his hand is steady as he 
 writes these words and his head clear, because he hath not 
 greatly disabused that life which God has given him. 
 
 How can I, tho' her face and form are painted on my mem- 
 ory, tell you Avhat fair, pert Miss Dorothy was at that time? 
 Ay, I know what you would say: that Sir Joshua's portrait 
 hangs above, executed but the year after, and hung at the sec- 
 ond exhibition of the Royal Academy. As I look upoa it now, 
 I say that no whit of its colour is overcharged. And there is 
 likewise Mr. Peale's portrait, done much later. I answer that 
 these great masters have accomplished what poor, human art 
 can do. But Nature hath given us a better picture. " Come 
 hither, Bess ! Yes, truly, you have Dolly's hair, with the very 
 gloss upon it. But fashions have changed, my child, and that 
 is not as Dolly wore it." Whereupon Bess goes to the por- 
 trait, and presently comes back to give me a start. And then 
 we go hand in hand up the stairs of Calvert House even to the 
 garret, where an old cedar chest is laid away under the eaves. 
 Bess, the minx, well knows it, and takes out a prim little gown 
 with the white fading yellow, and white silk Inits without 
 fingers, and white stockings with clocks, and a gauze cap, Avith 
 wings and streamers, that sits saucily on the black locks ; and 
 the lawn-embroidered apron; and such dainty, high-heeled 
 slippers with the pearls still a-glisten upon the buckles. Away 
 she flies to put them on. And then my heart gives a leap to
 
 A FESTIVAL AND A PARTmG 10b 
 
 Bce my Dorothy back again, — back again as she was tiiat June 
 afternoon we went togetlier to my last birthday party, her girl- 
 ish arms bare to the elbow, and the lace about her slender 
 throat. Yes, Bess hath the very tilt of her chin, the regal grace 
 of that slim figure, and the deep blue eyes. 
 
 "Grandfather, dear, you are crushing the gown!" 
 
 And so the fire is not yet gone out of this old frame. 
 
 Ah, yes, there they are again, those unpaved streets of old 
 Annapolis arched with great trees on either side. And here is 
 Dolly, holding her skirt in one hand and her fan in the other, 
 and I in a brave blue coat, and pumps with gold buttons, and a 
 cocked hat of the newest fashion. I had met her leaning over 
 the gate in Prince George Street. And, what was strange for 
 her, so deep in thought that she jumped when I spoke her 
 name. 
 
 " Dorothy, I have come for you to walk to the party, as we 
 used when we were children." 
 
 "As we iised when we were children!" cried she. And 
 flinging wide the gate, stretched out her hand for me to take. 
 "And you are eighteen years to-day! It seems but last year 
 when we skipped hand in hand to Marlboro' Street with Mammy 
 Lucy behind us. Are you coming, mammy ? " she called. 
 
 "Yes, mistis, I'se comin'," said a voice from behind the 
 golden-rose bushes, and out stepped Aunt Lucy in a new tur- 
 ban, making a curtsey to me. "La, Marse Eichard!" said 
 she, "to think you'se growed to be a fine gemman! 'Taint 
 but t'other day you was kissin' Miss Dolly on de plantation." 
 
 " It seems longer than that to me, Aunt Lucy," I answered, 
 laughing at Dolly's bluf^hes. 
 
 " You have too good a memory, mammy," said my lady, with- 
 drawing her fingers from mine. 
 
 "Bress you, honey! De ole woman doan't forgit some 
 things." 
 
 And she fell back to a respectful six paces. 
 
 "' Those were happy times," said Dorothy. Then the little 
 sigh became a laugh. "I mean to enjoy myself to-day, Rich- 
 ard. But I fear I shall not see as much of you as I used. You 
 are old enough to play the host, now."
 
 106 EICHAED CAEVEL 
 
 " You shall see as much as you -will." 
 
 " Where have you been of late, sir ? In Gloucester 
 Street ? " 
 
 " 'Tis your own fault, Dolly. You are changeable as the 
 sky, — to-day sunny, and to-morrow cold. I am sure of my wel- 
 come in Gloucester Street." 
 
 She tripped a step as we turned the corner, and came closer 
 to my side. 
 
 " You must learn to take me as you find me, dear Eichard. 
 To-day I am in a holiday humour." 
 
 Some odd note in her tone troubled me, and I glanced at her 
 quickly. She was a constant wonder and puzzle to me. After 
 that night at the theatre my hopes had risen for the hundredth 
 time, but I had gone to Prince George Street on the morrow 
 to meet another rebuff — and Fitzhugh. So I had learned to 
 interpret her by other means than words, and now her mood 
 seemed reckless rather than merry. 
 
 " Are you not happy, Dolly ? " I asked abruptly. 
 
 She laughed. " What a silly question ! " she said. " Why 
 do you ask ? " 
 
 " Because I believe you are not." 
 
 In surprise she looked up at me, and then down at the 
 pearls upon her satin slippers. 
 
 " I am going with you to -your birthday festival, Eichard. 
 Could we wish for more ? I am as happy as you." 
 
 " That may well be, for I might be happier." 
 
 Again her eyes met mine, and she hummed an air. So we 
 came to the gate, beside which stood Diomedes and Hugo in 
 the family claret-red. A coach was drawn up, and another 
 behind it, and we went down the leafy walk in the midst of a 
 bevy of guests. 
 
 We have no such places nowadays, my dears, as was my 
 grandfather's. The ground between the street and the brick 
 wall in the rear was a great stretch, as ample in acreage as 
 many a small country-place we have in these times. The 
 house was on the high land in front, hedged in by old trees, 
 and thence you descended by stately tiers until you came to 
 the level which held the dancers. Beyond that, and lower
 
 A FESTIVAL AND A PARTING 107 
 
 still, a lilied pond widened out of the sluggish brook with a 
 cool and rustic spring-house at one end. The spring-house 
 was thatched, with windows looking out upon the water. 
 Long after, when I went to France, I was reminded of the shy 
 beauty of this part of my old home by the secluded pond of 
 the Little Trianon. So was it that King Louis's Versailles 
 had spread its influence a thousand leagues to our youthful 
 continent. 
 
 My grandfather sat in his great chair on the sward beside 
 the fiddlers, his old friends gathering around him, as in former 
 years. 
 
 "And this is the miss that hath already broken half the 
 bachelor hearts in town!" said he, gayly. "What was my 
 prediction, Miss Dolly, when you stepped your first dance at 
 Carvel Hall ? " 
 
 " Indeed, you do me wrong, Mr. Carvel ! " 
 
 " And I were a buck, you would not break mine, I warrant, 
 unless it were tit for tat," said my grandfather; thereby 
 putting me to more confusion than Dolly, who laughed with 
 the rest. 
 
 " 'Tis well to boast, Mr. Carvel, when we are out of the 
 battle," cried Mr. Lloyd. 
 
 Dolly was carried off immediately, as I expected. The 
 doctor and Worthington and Fitzhugh were already there, 
 and waiting. I stood by Mr. Carvel's chair, receiving the 
 guests, and presently came Mr. Swain and Patty. 
 
 " Heigho ! " called Mr. Carvel, when he saw her ; " here is 
 the young lady that hath my old affections. You are right 
 welcome, Mr. Swain. Scipio, another chair ! 'Tis not over 
 the wall any more. Miss Patty, with our flowered India silk. 
 But I vow I love you best with your etui." 
 
 Patty, too, was carried off, for you may be sure that Will 
 Fotheringay and Singleton were standing on one foot and then 
 the other, waiting for Mr. Carvel to have done. Next arrived 
 my aunt, in a wide calash and a wider hoop, her stays laced 
 so that she limped, and her hair wonderfully and fearfully 
 arranged by her Frenchman. Neither she nor Grafton was 
 ■slow to shower congratulations upon my grandfather and
 
 108 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 myself. Mr. Marmaduke went through the ceremony aftei 
 them. Dorothy's mother drew me aside. As long as I could 
 remember her face had been one that revealed a life's disap* 
 pointment. But to-day I thought it bore a trace of a deeper 
 anxiety. 
 
 "How well I recall this day, eighteen years ago, Richard," 
 she said. "And how proud your dear mother was that she 
 had given a son to Captain Jack. She had prayed for a son. 
 I hope you will always do your parents credit, my dear boy. 
 They were both dear, dear friends of mine." 
 
 My Aunt Caroline's harsher voice interrupted her. 
 
 "Gadzooks, ma'am!" she cried, as she approached us, "1 
 have never in my life laid eyes upon such beauty as your 
 daughter's. You will have to take her home, Mrs. Manners, 
 to do her justice. You owe it her, ma'am. Come, nephew, off 
 with you, and head the minuet with Miss Dolly! " 
 
 My grandfather was giving the word to the fiddlers. But 
 whether a desire to cross my aunt held me back, or a sense of 
 duty to greet the guests not already come, or a vague intui- 
 tion of some impending news drawn from Mrs. Manners and 
 Dorothy, I know not. Mr. Fitzhugh was easily persuaded 
 to take my place, and presently I slipped unnoticed into a 
 shaded seat on the side of the upper terrace, whence I could 
 see the changing figures on the green. And I thought of the 
 birthday festivals Dolly and I had spent here, almost since we 
 were of an age to walk. Wet June days, when the broad 
 wings of the hovise rang with the sound of silver laughter and 
 pattering feet, and echoed with music from the hall; and 
 merry June days, when the laughter rippled among the lilacs, 
 and pansies and poppies and sweet peas were outshone by 
 bright gowns and brighter faces. And then, as if to complete 
 the picture of the past, my eye fell upon our mammies mod- 
 estly seated behind the group of older people, Aunt Hester 
 and Aunt Lucy, their honest black faces aglow with such 
 unselfish enjoyment as they alone could feel. 
 
 How easily I marked Dorothy among the throng! 
 
 Other girls found it hard to compress the spirits of youth 
 within the dignity of a minuet, and thought of the childish
 
 A FESTIVAL AND A PARTING 109 
 
 romp of former years. Not so my lady. Long afterwards 1 
 saw her lead a ball with the first soldier and gentleman of the 
 land, but on that Tuesday she carried herself full as well, — ■ 
 so well that his Excellency and the gentlemen about him ap- 
 plauded heartily. As the strains died away and tlie couples 
 moved off among the privet-lined patlis, I went slowly down 
 the terrace. Dorothy had come up to speak to her mother, Dr. 
 Courtenay lingering impatient at her side. And though her 
 colour glowed deeper, and the Avind had loosed a wisp of 
 her hair, she took his Excellency's compliments undisturbed. 
 Colonel Sharpe, our former governor, who now made his 
 home in the province, sat beside him. 
 
 "Now where a-deuce were you, Richard?" said he. "You 
 have missed as pleasing a sight as comes to a man in a life- 
 time. Why were you not here to see Miss Manners tread a 
 minuet? My word! Terpsichore herself could scarce have 
 made it go better." 
 
 "I saw the dance, sir, from a safe distance," I replied. 
 
 "I'll warrant! " said he, laughing, while Dolly shot me a 
 wayward glance from under her long lashes. "I'll warrant 
 your eyes were fast on her from beginning to end. Come, sir, 
 confess ! " 
 
 His big frame shook with the fun of it, for none in the 
 colony could be jollier than he on holiday occasions: and 
 the group of ladies and gentlemen beside him caught the in- 
 fection, so that I was sore put to it. 
 
 "Will your Excellency confess likewise?" I demanded. 
 
 " So I will, Richard, and make patent to all the world that 
 she hath the remains of that shuttlecock, mv heart." 
 
 Up gets his Excellency (for so we still called him) and 
 makes Dolly a low reverence, kissing the tips of her white 
 fingers. My lady drops a mock curtsey in return. 
 
 " Your Excellency can do no less than sue for a dance,'' 
 drawled Dr. Courtenay. 
 
 " And no more, I fear, sir, not being so nimble as I once was. 
 I resign in your favour, doctor," said Colonel Sharpe. 
 
 Dr. Courtenay made his bow, his hat tucked under his 
 arm. But he had much to learn of Miss Manners if he
 
 110 EICHAED CARVEL 
 
 thought that even one who had been governor of the prov 
 ince could command her. The music was just begun again, 
 and I making off in the direction of Patty Swain, when I 
 was brouglit up as suddenly as by a rope. A curl was upon 
 Dorothy's lips. 
 
 "The dance belongs to Richard, doctor," she said. 
 
 " Egad, Courtenay, there you have a buffer ! " cried Colonel 
 Sharpe, as the much-discomtited doctor bowed with a very ill 
 grace; while I, in no small bewilderment, walked off with 
 Dorothy. And a parting shot of the delighted colonel 
 brought the crimson to my face. Like the wind or April 
 weather was my lady, and her ways far beyond such a great 
 simpleton as I. 
 
 "So I am ever forced to ask you to dance!" said Dolly. 
 " What were you about, moping off alone, with a party in your 
 honour, sir? " 
 
 "I was watching you, as I told his Excellency." 
 
 " Oh, fie ! " she cried. " Why don't you assert yourself, 
 Richard? There was a time when you gave me no peace." 
 
 "And then you rebuked me for dangling," I retorted. 
 
 Up started the music, the fiddlers bending over their bows 
 with flushed faces, having dipped into the cool punch in 
 the interval. Away flung my lady to meet Singleton, while I 
 swung Patty, who squeezed my hand in return. And soon we 
 were in the heat of it, — sober minuet no longer, but romp and 
 riot, the screams of the lasses a-mingle with our own laughter, 
 as we spun them until they were dizzy. My brain was a-whirl 
 as well, and presently I awoke to find Dolly pinching my arm. 
 
 "Have you forgotten me, Richard?" she whispered. "My 
 other hand, sir. It is 'down the middle.'" 
 
 Down we flew between the laughing lines, Dolly tripping 
 with her head high, and then back under the clasped hands 
 in the midst of a fire of raillery. Then the music stopped. 
 Some strange exhilaration was in Dorothy. 
 
 "Do you remember the place where I used to play fairy 
 godmother, and wind the flowers into my hair?" said she. 
 
 What need to ask? 
 
 " Come ! " she commanded decisively..
 
 A FESTIVAL AND A PARTING 111 
 
 " With all my heart ! " I exclaimed, wondering at this new 
 caprice. 
 
 " If we can but slip away unnoticed, they will never find 
 us there," she said. And led the way herself, silent. At 
 length we came to the damp shade where the brook dived 
 under the corner of the wall. I stooped to gather the lilies 
 of the valley, and she wove them into her hair as of old. 
 Suddenly she stopped, the bunch poised in her hand. 
 
 " Would you miss me if I went away, Richard ? " she asked, 
 in a low voice. 
 
 " What do you mean, Dolly ? " I cried, my voice failing. 
 
 " Just that," said she. 
 
 "I would miss you, and sorely, tho' you give me trouble 
 enough." 
 
 " Soon I shall not be here to trouble you, Richard. Papa 
 has decided that we sail next week, on the Annajjolis, for 
 home." 
 
 " Home ! " I gasped. " England ? " 
 
 "I am going to make my bow to royalty," replied she, 
 dropping a deep curtsey. " ' Your Majesty, this is Miss Man- 
 ners, of the province of Maryland ! ' " 
 
 " But next week ! " I repeated, with a blank face. " Surely 
 you cannot be ready for the Annapolis!^' 
 
 " McAndrews has instructions to send our things after," said 
 she. " There ! You are the first person I have told. You 
 should feel honoured, sir." 
 
 I sat down upon the grass by the brook, and for the moment 
 the sap of life seemed to have left me. Dolly continued to 
 twine the flowers. Through the trees sifted the voices and 
 the music, sounds of happiness far away. When I looked 
 up again, she was gazing into the water. 
 
 " Are you glad to go ? " I asked. 
 
 " Of course," answered the minx, readily. " I shall see the 
 world, and meet people of consequence." 
 
 " So you are going to England to meet people of conse- 
 quence ! " I cried bitterly. 
 
 " How provincial you are, Richard ! What people of conse- 
 quence have we here ? The Governor and the honourable
 
 112 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 members of his Council, forsooth ! There is not a title save 
 his Excellency's in our whole colony, and Virginia is scarce 
 better provided." 
 
 In spite of my feeling I was fain to laugh at this, knowing 
 well that she had culled it all from little Mr. Marmaduke 
 himself. 
 
 " All in good time," said I. " We shall have no lack of 
 noted men presently." 
 
 " Mere twopenny heroes," she retorted. "I know your great 
 men, such as Mr. Henry and Dr. Franklin and Mr. Adams." 
 
 I began pulling up the grass savagely by the roots. 
 
 " I'll lay a hundred guineas you have no regrets at leaving 
 any of us, my fine miss ! " I cried, getting to my feet. " You 
 would rather be a lady of fashion than have the love of an 
 honest man, — you who have the hearts of too many as it is." 
 
 Her eyes lighted, but with mirth. Laughing, she chose a 
 little bunch of the lilies and worked them into my coat. 
 
 '' Richard, you silly goose ! " she said ; " I dote upon seeing 
 you in a temper." 
 
 I stood between anger and God knows what other feelings, 
 now starting away, now coming back to her. But I always 
 came back. 
 
 "You have ever said you would marry an earl, Dolly," I 
 said sadly. "I believe you do net care for any of us one 
 little bit." 
 
 She turned away, so that for the moment I could not see 
 her face, then looked at me with exquisite archness over her 
 shoulder. The low tones of her voice were of a richness 
 indescribable. 'Twas seldom she made use of them. 
 
 " You will be coming to Oxford, Richard." 
 
 " I lear not, Dolly," I replied soberly. " I fear not, now. 
 Mr. Carvel is too feeble for me to leave him." 
 
 At that she turned to me, another mood coming like a gust 
 of wind on the Chesapeake. 
 
 " Oh, how I wish they were all like you ! " she cried, with a 
 stamp of her foot. " Sometimes I despise gallantry. I hate 
 the smooth compliments of your macaronies. I thank Heaven 
 you are big and honest anr" clumsy and — "
 
 A FESTIVAL AND A PARTING 113 
 
 " And what, Dorothy ? " I asked, bewildered. 
 " And stupid," said she. " Now take me back, sir.'' 
 We had not gone thirty paces before we heard a hearty bass 
 voice singing : — ■ 
 
 " ' It was a lover and his lass, 
 With a hey, with a ho, with a hey nonino.' " 
 
 And there was Colonel Sharpe, straying along among the 
 privet hedges. 
 
 And so the morning of her sailing came, so full of sadness 
 for me. Why not confess, after nigh threescore years, that 
 break of day found me pacing the deserted dock. At my back, 
 across the open space, was the irregular line of quaint, top- 
 heavy shops since passed away, their sightles'^ windows barred 
 by solid shutters of oak. The good ship AanapoUs, which was 
 to carry my playmate to broader scenes, lay among the ship- 
 ping, in the gray roads just quickening with returning light. 
 How my heart ached that morning none shall ever know. 
 But, as the sun shot a burning line across the water, a new 
 salt breeze sprang up and fanned a hope into flame. 'Twas 
 the very breeze that was to blow Dorothy down the bay. 
 Sleepy apprentices took down the shutters, and polished the 
 windows until they shone again ; and chipper Mr. Denton 
 Jacques, who did such a thriving business opposite, presently 
 appeared to wish me a bright good morning. 
 
 I knew that Captain Waring proposed to sail at ten of the 
 clock ; but after breakfasting, I was of two minds whether to 
 see the last of Miss Dorothy, foreseeing a levee in her honour 
 upon the ship. And so it proved. I had scarce set out in a 
 pungy from the dock, when I perceived a dozen boats about 
 the packet; and when I thrust my shoulders through the 
 gangway, there was the company gathered at the mainmast. 
 They made a gay bit of colour, — Dr. Courtenay in a green coat 
 laced with fine Mechlin, Fitzhugh in claret and silk stockings 
 of a Quaker gray, and the other gentlemen as smartly drest. 
 The Dulany girls and the Fotheringay girls, and I know not 
 how many others, were there to see their friend off for home. 
 I
 
 114 RICHAED CARVEL 
 
 In the midst of them was Dorothy, in a crimson silk capuchin, 
 for we had had one of our changes of weather. It was she 
 who spied me as I was drawing down the ladder again. 
 
 " It is Richard ! " I heard her cry. " He has come at last." 
 
 I gripped the rope tightly, sprang to the deck, and faced 
 her as she came out of the group, her lips parted, and the red 
 of her cheeks vying with the hood she wore. I took her hand 
 silently. 
 
 " I had given you over, Richard," she said, her eyes looking 
 reproachfully into mine. "Another ten minutes, and I shouldx 
 not have seen you." 
 
 Indeed, the topsails were already off the caps, the captain 
 on deck, and the men gathered at the capstan. 
 
 '' Have you not enough to wish you good-by, Dolly ? " I 
 asked. 
 
 " There must be a score of them," said my lady, making a 
 face. " But I wish to talk to you." 
 
 Mr. Marmaduke, however, had no notion of allowing a gath- 
 ering in his daughter's honour to be broken up. It had been 
 wickedly said of him, when the news of his coming departure 
 got around, that he feared Dorothy would fall in love with 
 some provincial beau before he could get her within reach of 
 a title. When he observed me talking to her, he hurried away 
 from the friends come to see his wife (he had none himself), 
 and seizing me by the arm implored me to take good care of 
 my dear grandfather, and to write them occasionally of the 
 state of his health, and likewise how I fared. 
 
 "I think Dorothy Avill miss you more than any of them, 
 Richard," said he. " Will you not, my dear ? " 
 
 But she was gone. I, too, left him without ceremony, to 
 speak to Mrs. Manners, who was standing apart, looking shore- 
 ward. She started when I spoke, and I saw that tears were 
 in her eyes. 
 
 " Are you coming back soon, Mrs. Manners ? " I asked. 
 
 "Oh, Richard! I don't know," she answered, with a little 
 choke in her voice. " I hope it will be no longer than a 
 year, for we are leaving all we hold dear for a very doubtful 
 pleasure."
 
 A FESTIVAL AND A PARTING 115 
 
 She bade me write to them, as Mr. Marmaduke had, only 
 she was sincere. Then the mate came, with his hand to his 
 cap, respectfully to inform visitors that the anchor was up and 
 down. Albeit my spirits were low, 'twas no small entertainment 
 to watch the doctor and his rivals at their adieus. Courtenay 
 had at his command an hundred subterfuges to outwit his fel- 
 lows, and so manoeuvred that he was the last of them over the 
 side. As for me, luckily, I was not worth a thought. But 
 as the doctor leaned over her hand, I vowed in my heart that 
 if Dorothy was to be gained only in such a way I would not 
 stoop to it. And in my heart I doubted it. I heard Dr. 
 Courtenay hint, looking meaningly at her cloak, that some of 
 his flowers would not have appeared amiss there. 
 
 "Why, doctor," says my lady aloud, with a side glance at 
 me, " the wisdom of Solomon might not choose out of twenty 
 baskets." 
 
 And this was all the thanks he got for near a boat-load of 
 roses ! When at length the impatient mate had hurried him 
 off, Dolly turned to me. It was not in me to say more than : — 
 
 " Good-by, Dorothy. And do not forget your old playmate. 
 He will never forget you." 
 
 We stood within the gangway. With a quick movement 
 she threw open her cloak, and pinned to her gown I saw a 
 faded bunch of lilies of the valley. 
 
 I had but the time to press her hand. The boatswain's pipe 
 whistled, and the big ship was already sliding in the water as I 
 leaped into my pungy, which Hugo was holding to the ladder. 
 We pulled off to where the others waited. 
 
 But the Annapolis sailed away down the bay, and never 
 mother glimpse we caught of my lady.
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 NEWS FROM A FAR COUNTRY 
 
 If perchance, my dears, tliere creeps into this chronicle too 
 much of an old man's heart, I know he will be forgiven. 
 What life ever worth living has been without its tender attach- 
 ment ? Because, forsooth, my hair is white now, does Bess 
 flatter herself I do not know her secret ? Or does Comyn 
 believe that these old eyes can see no farther than the specta- 
 cles before them ? Were it not for the lovers, ray son, satins 
 and broadcloths had never been invented. And were it not 
 for the lovers, what joys and sorrows would we lack in our 
 lives ! 
 
 That was a long summer indeed. And tho' Wilmot House 
 was closed, I often rode over of a morning when the dew 
 was on the grass. It cheered me to smoke a pipe with old 
 McAndrews, Mr. Manners's factor, who loved to talk of Miss 
 Dorothy near as much as I. He had served her grandfather, 
 and people said that had it not been for McAndrews, the Man- 
 ners fortune had long since been scattered, since Mr. Marmaduke 
 knew nothing of anything that he should. I could not hear 
 from my lady until near the first of October, and so I was 
 fain to be content with memories — memories and hard work. 
 For I had complete charge of the plantation now. 
 
 My Uncle Grafton came twice or thrice, but without his 
 family. Aunt Caroline and Philip having declared their inde- 
 pendence. My uncle's manner to me was now of studied kind- 
 ness, and he was at greater pains than before to give me no 
 excuse for offence. I had little to say to him. He spent his 
 visits reading to Mr. Carvel, who sat in his chair all the day 
 long. Mr. Allen came likewise, to perform the same office. 
 
 116
 
 NEWS FROM A FAR COUNTRY 117 
 
 My contempt for the rector was grown more than ever. On 
 my grandfather's account, however, I refrained from quarrel- 
 ling with him. And, when we were alone, my plain speaking 
 did not seera to anger him, or affect him in any way. Others 
 came, too. Such was the affection Mr. Carvel's friends bore 
 him that they did not desert him when he was no longer the 
 companion he had been in former years. We had more com- 
 pany than the summer before. 
 
 In the autumn a strange thing happened. When we had 
 taken my grandfather to the Hall in June, his dotage seemed 
 to settle upon him. He became a trembling old man, at times 
 so peevish that we were obliged to summon with an effort what 
 he had been. He was suspicious and fault-finding with Scipio 
 and the other servants, though they were never so busy for his 
 wants. Mrs. Willis's dainties were often untouched, and he 
 would frequently sit for hours between slumber and waking, 
 or mumble to himself as I read the prints. But about the time 
 of the equinoctial a great gale came out of the south so strongly 
 that the water rose in the river over the boat landing; and the 
 roof was torn from one of the curing-sheds. The next morning 
 dawned clear, and brittle, and blue. To my great surprise, Mr. 
 Carvel sent for me to walk with him about the place, that he 
 might see the damage with his own eyes. A huge walnut had 
 fallen across the drive, and when he came upon it he stopped 
 abruptly. 
 
 " Old friend ! " he cried, " have you succumbed ? After all 
 these years have you dropped from the weight of a blow ? " 
 He passed his hand caressingly along the trunk, and scarce 
 ever had I seen him so affected. In truth, for the instant I 
 thought him deranged. He raised his cane above his shoulder 
 and struck the bark so heavily that the silver head sunk deep 
 into the wood. " Look you, Richard," he said, the water com- 
 ing into his eyes, "look you, the heart of it is gone, lad; and 
 when the heart is rotten 'tis time for us to go. That walnut 
 was a life friend, my son. We have grown together," he con- 
 tinued, turning from me to the giant and brushing his cheeks, 
 '' but by God's good will we shall not die so, for my heart is 
 still as young as the days when you were sprouting."
 
 118 EICHAED CARVEL 
 
 And he walked back to the house more briskly than he had 
 come, refusing, for the first time, my arm. And from that 
 day, I say, he began to mend. The lacing of red came again 
 to his cheeks, and before we went back to town he had 
 walked with me to Master Dingley's tavern on the highroad, 
 and back. 
 
 We moved into Marlboro' Street the first part of Novem- 
 ber. I had seen my lady off for England, wearing my faded flow- 
 ers, the panniers of the fine gentleman in a neglected pile at her 
 cabin door. But not once had she deigned to write me. It 
 was McAndrews who told me of her safe arrival. In Annapo- 
 lis rumours were a-flying of conquests she had already made. 
 I found Betty Tayloe had had a letter, filled with the fashion 
 in caps and gowns, and the mention of more than one noble 
 name. All of this being, for unknown reasons, sacred, I was 
 read only part of the postscript, in which I figured: "The 
 London Season was done almost before we arrived," so it ran. 
 " We had but the Opportunity to pay our Humble Respects to 
 their Majesties, and appear at a few Drum-Majors and Garden 
 Fetes. Now we are off to Brighthelmstone, and thence, so Papa 
 says, to Spa and the Continent until the end of January. I 
 am pining for news of Maryland, dearest Betty. Address me 
 in care of Mr. Ripley, Barrister, of Lincoln's Inn, and bid 
 Richard Carvel write me." 
 
 "Which does not look as if she were coming back within 
 the year," said Betty, as she poured me a dish of tea. 
 
 Alas, no ! But I did not write, I tried and failed. And 
 then I tried to forget. I was constant at all the gayeties, gave 
 every miss in town a share of my attention, rode to hounds 
 once a week at Whitehall or the South River Club with a 
 dozen young beauties. But cantering through the winter mists 
 'twas Dolly, in her red riding-cloak and white beaver, I saw 
 beside me. None of them had her seat in the saddle, and none 
 of them her light hand on the reins. And tho' they lacked 
 not fire and skill, they had not my lady's dash and daring to 
 follow over field and fallow, stream and searing, and be in at 
 the death with heightened colour, but never a lock awry. 
 
 Then came the first assembly of the year. I got back from
 
 NEWS FROM A FAR COUNTRY 119 
 
 Bentley Manor, where I had been a-visiting the Fotheringays, 
 just in time to call for Patty in Gloucester Street. 
 
 " Have you heard the news from abroad, Richard ? " she 
 asked, as I handed her into my chariot. 
 
 " Never a line," I replied. 
 
 " Pho ! " exclaimed Patty ; " you tell me that ! Where have 
 you been hiding ? Then you shall not have it from me." 
 
 I had little trouble, however, in persuading her. For news 
 was a rare luxury in those days, and Patty was plainly uncom- 
 fortable until she should have it out. 
 
 '* I would not give you the vapours to-night for all the world, 
 Richard," she exclaimed. " But if you must, — Dr. Courtenay 
 has had a letter from Mr. Manners, who says that Dolly is to 
 marry his Grace cf Chartersea. There now ! " 
 
 " And I am not greatly disturbed," I answered, with a fine, 
 careless air. 
 
 The lanthorn on the chariot was burning bright. And I 
 saw Patty look at me, and laugh. 
 
 " Indeed ! " says she ; " what a sex is that to which you be- 
 long. How ready are men to deny us at the first whisper! 
 And I thought you the most constant of all. For my part, I 
 credit not a word of it. 'Tis one of Mr. Marmaduke's lies and 
 vanities." 
 
 "And for my part, I think it true as gospel," I cried. 
 " Dolly always held a coronet above her colony, and all her 
 life has dreamed of a duke." 
 
 "Nay," answered Patty, more soberly; "nay, you do her 
 wrong. You will discover one day that she is loyal to the 
 £ore, tho' she has a fop of a father who would serve his Grace's 
 .lihocolate. We are all apt to talk, my dear, and to say what 
 we do not mean, as you are doing." 
 
 " Were I to die to-morrow, I would repeat it," I exclaimed. 
 But I liked Patty the better for what she had said. 
 
 " And there is more news, of less import," she continued, as 
 I was silent. " The Tliunderer dropped anchor in the roads 
 to-day, and her officers will be at the assembly. And Betty 
 tells me there is a young lord among them, — la ! I have 
 clean forgot the string of adjectives she used, — but she would
 
 120 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 have had me know he was as handsome as Apollo, and so dash- 
 ing and diverting as to put Courtenay and all our wits to 
 shame. She dined with him at the Governor's." 
 
 I barely heard her, tho' I had seen the man-o'-war in the 
 harbour as I sailed in that afternoon. 
 
 The assembly hall was filled when we arrived, aglow with 
 candles and a-tremble with music, the powder already flying, 
 and the tables in the recesses at either end surrounded by 
 those at the cards. A lively scene, those dances at the old 
 Stadt House, but one I love best to recall with a presence that 
 endeared it to me. The ladies in flowered aprons and caps 
 and brocades and trains, and the gentlemen in brilliant coats, 
 trimmed with lace and stiffened with buckram. That night, 
 as Patty had predicted, there was a smart sprinkling of uni- 
 forms from the Thunderer. One of those officers held my eye. 
 He was as well-formed a lad, or man (for he was both), as it 
 had ever been my lot to see. He was neither tall nor short, 
 but of a good breadth. His fair skin was tanned by the 
 A^eather, and he wore his own wavy hair powdered, as was 
 ]ust become the fashion, and tied with a ribbon behind. 
 
 " Mercy, Richard, that must be his Lordship, Why, his 
 good looks are all Betty claimed for them ! " exclaimed Patty, 
 Mr. Lloyd, who was standing by, overheard her, and was 
 vastly amused at her downright way. 
 
 ''I will fetch him directly. Miss Swain," said he, "as I have 
 done for a dozen ladies before you." And fetch him he did. 
 
 "Miss Swain, this is my Lord Comyn," said he. "Your 
 Lordship, one of the boasts of our province." 
 
 Patty grew red as the scarlet with which his Lordship's 
 coat was lined. She curtseyed, while he made a profound 
 bow. 
 
 "What! Another boast, Mr. Lloyd!" he cried. "Miss 
 Swain is the tenth I have met. But I vow they excel as they 
 proceed." 
 
 "Then you must meet no more, my Lord," said Patty, 
 laughing at Mr. Lloyd's predicament. 
 
 " Egad, then, I will not," declared Comyn. "I protest I am 
 ■atisfied,"
 
 NEWS FROM A FAE COUNTRY 12i 
 
 Then I was presented. He had won me on the instant with 
 his open smile and frank, boyish manner. 
 
 "And this is young Mr. Carvel, whom I hear vans every 
 hunt in the colony ? " said he. 
 
 "I fear you have been misinformed, my Lord," I replied, 
 flushing with pleasure nevertheless. 
 
 " Nay, my Lord," Mr. Lloyd struck in ; " Richard could ride 
 down the devil himself, and he were a fox. You will see for 
 yourself to-morrow." 
 
 " I pray we may not start the devil," said his Lordship; "or 
 I shall be content to let Mr. Carvel run him down." 
 
 This Comyn was a man after my own fancy, as, indeed, he 
 took the fancy of every one at the ball. Though a viscount in 
 his own right, he gave himself not half the airs over us provin- 
 cials as did many of his messmates. Even Mr. Jacques, who 
 was sour as last year's cider over the doings of Parliamentj 
 lost his heart, and asked why we v/ere not favoured in America 
 with more of his sort. 
 
 By a great mischance Lord Comyn had fallen into the tendei 
 clutches of my Aunt Caroline. It seemed she had known his 
 uncle, the Honourable Arthur Comyn, in New York ; and now 
 she undertook to be responsible for his Lordship's pleasure at 
 Annapolis, that he might meet only those of the first fashion 
 Seeing him talking to Patty, my aunt rose abruptly from her 
 loo and made toward us, all paint and powder and patches^ 
 her chin in the air, which barely enabled her to look over Miss 
 Swain's head. 
 
 " My Lord," she cries, " I will show you our colonial reel, 
 which is about to begin, and I warrant you is gayer than any 
 dance you have at home." 
 
 " Your very devoted, Mrs. Carvel," says his Lordship, with a 
 bow, " but Miss Swain has done me the honour." 
 
 "• Lud ! " cries my aunt, sweeping the room, " I vow I 
 cannot keep pace with the misses nowadays. Is she here ? " 
 
 " She was but a moment since, ma'am," replied Comyn, 
 instantly, with a mischievous look at me, while poor Patt^ 
 stood blushing not a yard distant. 
 
 There were many who overheard, and who used theii fans
 
 122 EICHARD CAKVEL 
 
 and their napkins to hide their laughter at the very just snub 
 Mrs. Grafton had received. And I wondered at the readiness 
 with which he had read her character, liking him all the 
 better. But my aunt was not to be disabled by this, — not she. 
 After the dance she got hold of him, keeping him until certain 
 designing ladies with daughters took him away ; their names 
 charity forbids me to mention. But in spite of them all he 
 contrived to get Patty for supper, when I took Betty Tayloe, 
 and we were very merry at table together. His Lordship 
 proved more than able to take care of himself, and con- 
 trived to send Philip about his business when he pulled up a 
 chair beside us. He drank a health to Miss Swain, and an- 
 other to Miss Tayloe, and was on the point of filling a third 
 glass to the ladies of Maryland, when he caught himself and 
 brought his hand down on the table. 
 
 " Gad's life ! " cried he, " but I think she's from Maryland 
 too ! " 
 
 " Who ? " demanded the young ladies, in a breath. 
 
 But I knew. 
 
 " Who ! " exclaimed Comyn. " Who but Miss Dorothy Man- 
 ners ! Isn't she from Maryland ? " And marking our aston- 
 ished nods, he continued : " Why, she descended upon Mayfair 
 when they were so weary for something to worship, and they 
 went mad over her in a s'ennight. I give you Miss Manners !" 
 
 " And you know her ! " exclaimed Patty, her voice quivering 
 with excitement. 
 
 " Faith ! " said his Lordship, laughing, " For a whole month 
 I was her most devoted, as were we all at Almack's. I stayed 
 until the last minute for a word with her, — which I never got, 
 by the way, — and paid near a guinea a mile for a chaise to 
 Portsmouth as a consequence. Already she has had her choice 
 from a thousand a year up, and I tell you our English ladies 
 are green with envy." 
 
 I was stunned, you may be sure. And yet, I might have 
 expected it. 
 
 " If your Lordship has left your heart in England," said 
 Betty, with a smile, " I give you warning you must not teU 
 our ladies here of it."
 
 NEWS FROM A FAR COUNTRY 123 
 
 "I care not who knows it, Miss Taj-loe," he cried. That 
 fustian, insincerity, was certainly not one of his faults. "/ 
 care not who knows it. To pass her chariot is to have your 
 heart stolen, and you must needs run after and beg mercy. 
 But, ladies," he added, his eye twinkling ; " having seen the 
 women of your colony, I marvel no longer at Miss Manners's 
 beauty." 
 
 He set us all a-laughing. 
 
 "1 fear you were not born a diplomat, sir," says Patty. 
 " You agree that we are beautiful, yet to hear that one of us is 
 more so is small consolation." 
 
 " We men turn as naturally to Miss Manners as plants to 
 the sun, ma'am," he replied impulsively. " Yet none of us 
 dare hope for alliance with so brilliant and distant an object. 
 I make small doubt those are Mr. Carvel's sentiments, and still 
 he seems popular enough with the ladies. How now, sir ? 
 How now, Mr. Carvel ? You have yet to speak on so tender 
 a subject." 
 
 My eyes met Patty's. 
 
 " I will be no more politic than you, my Lord," I said boldly, 
 "nor will I make a secret of it that I adore JVfiss Manners full 
 as much." 
 
 " Bravo, Richard ! " cries Patty ; and " Good ! " cries his 
 Lordship, while Betty claps her hands. And then Comyn 
 swung suddenly round in his chair. 
 
 " Richard Carvel ! " says he. " By the seven chimes I have 
 heard her mention your name. The devil fetch my memory ! " 
 
 " My name ! " I exclaimed, in surprise, and prodigiously 
 rpset. 
 
 " Yes," he answered, with his hand to his head ; " some 
 such thought was in my mind this afternoon when I heard 
 of your riding. Stay ! I have it ! I was at Ampthill, 
 Ossory's place, just before I left. Some insupportable cox- 
 comb was boasting a marvellous run with the hounds nigh 
 across Hertfordshire, and Miss Manners brought him up with 
 a round turn and a half hitch by relating one of your exploits, 
 Richard Carvel. And take my word on't she got no small 
 applause. She told how you had followed a fox over oae oi
 
 124 EICHARD CAEVEL 
 
 your rough provincial counties, which means three of Hertford- 
 shire, with your arm broken, by Heaven ! and how they Ufted 
 you off at the death. And, Mr. Carvel," said my Lord, gener- 
 ously, looking at my flushed face, "you must give me your 
 hand for that." 
 
 So Dorothy in England had thought of me at least. But 
 what booted it if she were to marry a duke ! My thoughts 
 began to whirl over all Coniyn had said of her so that I scarce 
 heard a question Miss Tayloe had put. 
 
 " Marry Chartersea ! That profligate pig ! " Comyn was 
 saying. " She would as soon marry a chairman or a chimney- 
 sweep, I'm thinking. Why, Miss Tayloe, Sir Charles Grandi- 
 son himself would scarce suit her ! " 
 
 *' Good lack ! " said Betty, " I think Sir Charles would be 
 the very last for Dorothy."
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 MR. ALLEN SHOWS HIS HAND 
 
 So Dorothy's beauty had taken London by storm, even as it 
 had conquered Annapolis ! However, 'twas small consolation 
 to me to hear his Grace of Chartersea called a pig and a profli- 
 gate while better men danced her attendance in Mayfair. 
 Nor, in spite of what his Lordship had said, was I quite easy 
 on the score of the duke. It was in truth no small honour to 
 become a duchess. If Mr. Marmaduke had aught to say, there 
 was an end to hope. She would have her coronet. But in 
 that hour of darkness I counted upon my lady's spirit. 
 
 Dr. Courtenay came to the assembly very late, with a new 
 fashion of pinchbeck buckles on his pumps and a new manner 
 of taking snuff. (I caught Fotheringay practising this by the 
 stairs shortly after.) Always an important man, the doctor's 
 prominence had been increased that day by the letter he had 
 received. He was too thorough a courtier to profess any grief 
 over Miss Manners's match, and went about avowing that he 
 had always predicted a duke for IMiss Dorothy. And he d'-ew 
 a deal of pleasure from the curiosity of those who begged 
 but one look at the letter. Show it, indeed! For no con- 
 sideration. A private communication from one gentleman to 
 another must be respected. Will Fotheringay swore the 
 doctor was a sly dog, and had his own reasons for keeping it 
 to himself. 
 
 The doctor paid his compliment to the captain of the 
 Thunderer, and to his Lordship; hoped that he would see them 
 at the meet on the morrow, tho' his gout forbade his riding to 
 hounds. He saluted me in the most friendly way, for I 
 played billiards with him at the Coffee House now, and he 
 
 125
 
 126 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 won my money. He had pronounced my phaeton to be as 
 well appointed as any equipage in town, and had done me 
 the honour to drive out with me on several occasions. It was 
 Betty that brought him humiliation that evening. 
 
 " What do you think of the soar our Pandora hath taken, 
 Miss Betty?" says he. "From a Maryland manor to a ducal 
 palace. 'Tis a fable, egad! No less! " 
 
 "Indeed, I think it is," retorted Betty. "Marl: me, doctor, 
 Dorothy will not put up an instant with a ro^d and a brute." 
 
 "A rou&l" cries he, "and a brute! What the plague, Miss 
 Tayloe! I vow I do not understand you." 
 
 "Then ask my Lord Comyn, who knows your Duke of 
 Chartersea," said Betty. 
 
 Dr. Courtenay's expression was worth a pistole. 
 
 " Comyn knows him ! " he repeated. 
 
 "That he does," replied Betty, laughing. "His Lordship 
 says Chartersea is a pig and a profligate, and I remember not 
 what else. And that Dolly will not look at him. And so 
 little Mr. Marmaduke may go a-hunting for another title." 
 
 No wonder I had little desire for dancing that night! I 
 wandered out of the assembly-room and through the silent 
 corridors of the Stadt House, turning over and over again what 
 I had heard, and picturing Dorothy reigning over the macaronies 
 of St. James's Street. She had said nothing of this in her 
 letter to Betty, and had asked me to write to her. But now, 
 with a duke to refuse or accept, could she care to hear from her 
 old playmate? I took no thought of the time, until suddenly 
 my conscience told me I had neglected Fatty. 
 
 As I entered th'' hall I saw her at the far end of it talking 
 to Mr. Allen. This I thought strange, for I knew she disliked 
 him. Lord Comyn and Mr. Carroll, the barrister, and Singleton, 
 were standing by, listening. By the time I was halfway across 
 to tlieni the rector turned away. I remember thinking after- 
 wards that he changed colour when he said : " Your servant, 
 Mr. Richard." But I thought nothing of it at the time, and 
 went on to Patty. 
 
 "I have come for a country dance, before we go, Patty," I 
 said.
 
 MR. ALLEN SHOWS HIS HAND 127 
 
 Then something in her mien struck me. Her eyes expressed 
 a pain I had remarked in them before only when she spoke to 
 me of Tom, and her lips were closed tightly. She flushed, and 
 paled, and looked from Singleton to Mr. Carroll. They and 
 his Lordship remained silent. 
 
 "I — I cannot, Richard. I am going home," she said, in a 
 low voice. 
 
 " I will see if the chariot is here," I answered, surprised, but 
 thinking of Tom. 
 
 She stopped me. 
 
 "I am going with Mr. Carroll," she said. 
 
 I hope a Carvel never has to be rebuffed twice, nor to be 
 humbled by craving an explanation before a company. I was 
 confounded that Patty should treat me thus, when I had done 
 nothing to deserve it. As I made for the door, burning and 
 indignant, I felt as tho' every eye in the room was upon me. 
 Young Harvey drove me that night. 
 
 " Marlboro' Street, Mr. Richard ? " said he. 
 
 "Coffee House," replied I, that place coming first into my 
 nead. 
 
 Young Harvey seldom took liberties ; but he looked down 
 from the box. 
 
 "Better home, sir; your pardon, sir." 
 
 " D — n it ! " I cried, " drive where I bid you ! " 
 
 I pulled down the fore-glass, though the night was cold, and 
 began to cast about for the cause of Patty's action. And then 
 it was the rector came to my mind. Yes, he had been with 
 her just before I came up, and I made sure on the instant that 
 my worthy instructor was responsible for the trouble. I re- 
 membered that I had quarrelled with him the morning before 
 I had gone to Bentley Manor, and threatened to confess his 
 villany and my deceit to Mr. Carvel. He had answered me 
 with a sneer and a dare. I knew that Patty put honour and 
 honesty before all else in the world, and that she would not 
 have suffered my friendship for a day had she believed me to 
 lack either. But she, who knew me so well, was not likely to 
 believe anything he might say without giving me the chance 
 to clear myself. And what could he have told her ?
 
 128 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 I felt my anger growing big within me, until I grew afraid 
 of what I would do if I were tempted. I had a long score and 
 a heavy score against this rector of St. Anne's, — a score that 
 had been gathering these years. And I felt that my uncle was 
 somewhere behind him ; that the two of them were plotters 
 against me, even as Harvey had declared ; albeit ray Uncle 
 Grafton was little seen in his company now. And finally, in 
 a sinister flash of revelation, came the thought that Grafton 
 himself was at the back of this deception of my grandfather, 
 as to my principles. Fool that I was, it had never occurred to 
 me before. But how was he to gain by it ? Did he hope that 
 Mr. Carvel, in a fit of anger, would disinherit me when he found 
 I had deceived him ? Yes. And so had left the matter in 
 abeyance near these two years, that the shock might be the 
 greater when it came. I recalled now, with a shudder, that 
 never since the spring of my grandfather's illness had my 
 uncle questioned me upon my politics. I was seized with a fit 
 of fury. I suspected that Mr. Allen would be at the Coffee 
 House after the assembly. And I determined to seize the 
 chance at once and have it out with him then and there. 
 
 The inn was ablaze, but as yet deserted ; Mr. Claude expec- 
 tant. He bowed me from my chariot door, and would know 
 what took me from the ball. I threw him some short answer, 
 bade Harvey go home, saying that I would have some fellow 
 light me to Marlboro' Street when I thought proper. And 
 coming into the long room I flung aside my greatcoat and com- 
 manded a flask of Mr. Stephen Bordley's old sherry, some of 
 which Mr. Claude had obtained at that bachelor's demise. 
 
 The wine was scarce opened before I heard some sort of stir 
 at the front, and two servants in a riding livery of scarlet and 
 white hurried in to seek Mr. Claude. The sight of them suf- 
 ficed mine host, for he went out as fast as his legs would go, 
 giving the bell a sharp pull as he passed the door ; and pres- 
 ently I heard him complimenting two gentlemen into the 
 house. The voice of one I knew, — being no other than Cap- 
 tain Clapsaddle's ; and him I had not seen for the past six 
 months. I was just risen to my feet when they came in at 
 the door beside me.
 
 MR. ALLEN SHOWS HIS HAND 129 
 
 "Richard!" cried the captain, and grasped my hand in 
 both his own. I returned his pressure, too much pleased to 
 speak. Then his eye was caught by my finery. 
 
 " So ho ! " says he, sliaking his head at me for a sad rogue. 
 "Wine and women and fine clothes, and not nineteen, or I 
 mistake me. It was so with Captain Jack, who blossomed in 
 a week ; and few could vie with him, I warrant you, after he 
 made his decision. But bless me ! " he went on, drawing back, 
 " the lad looks mature, and a fair two inches broader than last 
 spring. But why are you not at the assembly, Richard ? " 
 
 "I have but now come from there, sir," I replied, not caring 
 in the presence of a stranger to enter into reasons. 
 
 At my answer the captain turned from me to the gentleman 
 behind him, who had been regarding us both as Ave talked. 
 There are some few men in the world, I thank God for it, who 
 bear their value on their countenance ; who stand unmistaka- 
 bly for qualities which command respect and admiration and 
 love ! We seem to recognize such men, and to wonder where 
 we have seen them before. In reality we recognize the virtues 
 they represent. So it was with him I saw in front of me, and 
 by his air and carriage I marked him then and there as a man 
 born to great things. You all know his face, my dears, and I 
 pray God it may live in the sight of those who come after you, 
 for generation upon generation ! 
 
 " Colonel Washington," said the captain, " this is Mr. Rich- 
 ard Carvel, the son of Captain Carvel." 
 
 Mr. Washington did not speak at once. He stood regard- 
 ing me a full minute, his eye seeming to penetrate the secrets 
 of my life. And I take pride in saying it was an eye I could 
 meet without flinching. 
 
 "Your father w^as a brave man, sir," he said soberly, "and 
 it seems you favour him. I am happy in knowing the son." 
 
 For a moment he stood debating whether he would go to 
 the house of one of his many friends in Annapolis, know- 
 ing that they would be offended when they learned he had 
 stopped at the inn. He often came to town, indeed, but 
 seldom tarried long ; and it had never been my fortune to see 
 him. Being arrived unexpectedly, and obliged to be away 
 
 K
 
 130 KICHAED CAKVEL 
 
 early on the morrow, he decided to order rooms of Mr. Claude, 
 sat down with me at the table, and commenced supper. They 
 had ridden from Alexandria. I gathered from their conversa- 
 tion that they were on their way to Philadelphia upon some 
 private business, the nature of which, knowing Captain Daniel's 
 sentiments and those of Colonel Washington, I went not far to 
 guess. The country was in a stir about the Townsheud duties ; 
 and there being some rumour that all these were to be dis- 
 charged save only that on tea, anxiety prevailed in our middle 
 colonies that the merchants of New York would abandon 
 the association formed and begin importation. It was of 
 some mission to these merchants that I suspected them. 
 
 As I sat beside Colonel Washington, I found myself growing 
 calmer, and ashamed of my lack of self-control. Uncon- 
 sciously, when we come in contact with the great of character, 
 we mould our minds to their qualities. His very person 
 seemed to exhale, not sanctity, but virility. I felt that this 
 man could command himself and others. In his presence self- 
 command came to me, as a virtue gone out of him. 'Twas not 
 his speech, I would have you know, that took hold of me. He 
 was by no means a brilliant talker, and I had the good fortune 
 to see him at his ease, since he and the captain were old 
 friends. As they argued upon the questions of the day, the 
 colonel did not seek to impress by words, or to fascinate by 
 manner. His opinions were calm and moderate, and appeared 
 to me so just as to admit of no appeal. He scrupled not to 
 use a forceful word when occasion demanded. And yet, now 
 and then, he had a lively way about him with all his dignity. 
 When he had finished his supper he bade Mr. Claude bring 
 another bottle of Mr. Bordley's sherry, having tested mine, 
 and addressed himself to me. 
 
 He would know what my pursuits had been ; for ray father's 
 sake, what were my ambitions ? He questioned me about Mr. 
 Carvel's plantation, of which he had heard, and appeared 
 pleased with the answers I gave as to its management and 
 methods. Captain Daniel was no less so. Mr. Washington 
 nad agriculture at his finger ends, and gave me some advice 
 which he had found serviceable at Mount Vernon,
 
 MR. ALLEN SHOWS HIS HAND 131 
 
 " 'Tis a pity, Richard," said he, smiling thoughtfully at the 
 captain, " 'tis a pity we have no service afield open to our 
 young men. One of your spirit and bearing should be of that 
 profession. Captain Jack Avas as brave and dashing an officer 
 as I ever laid eyes on." 
 
 I hesitated, tho' tingling at the compliment. 
 
 " I begin to think I was born for the sea, sir," I answered, 
 at length. 
 
 " What ! " cried the captain ; " what news is this, Richard ? 
 'Slife ! how has this come about ? " 
 
 My auger subdued by Mr. Washington's presence, a curious 
 mood had taken its place. A foolish mood, I thought it, but 
 one of feeling things to come. 
 
 "I believe I shall one day take part in a great sea-fight," I 
 said. And, tho' ashamed ta speak of it, I told him of Stanwix's 
 prophecy that I should pace the decks of a man-o'-war. 
 
 " A pox on Stanwix ! " said the captain, *' an artful old sea- 
 dog ! I never yet knew one who did not think the sun rises 
 and sets from poop to forecastle, who did not wheedle with 
 all the young blood to get them to follow a bow-legged pro- 
 fession." 
 
 Colonel Washington laughed. 
 
 " Judge not, Clapsaddle," said he ; " here are two of us try- 
 ing to get the lad for our own bow-legged profession. We 
 are as hot as Methodi.sts to convert." 
 
 ** Small conversion he needed when I was here to watch 
 hiiJM colonel. And he rides with any trooper I ever laid eyes 
 on. Why, sir, I myself threw him on a saddle before he could 
 »vell-nigh walk, and 'twere a waste of material to put him in 
 the navy." 
 
 "But what this old man said of a flag not yet seen in 
 heaven or earth interests me," said Colonel Washington. 
 "Tell me," he added with a penetration we both remarked, 
 "tell me, does jonv Captain Stanwix follow the times? Is 
 he a man to read his prints and pamphlets? In other 
 words, is he a man who might predict out of his own heated 
 imagination ? " 
 
 " Nay, sir," I answered, " he nods over his tobacco the day
 
 132 RICHAED CARVEL 
 
 long. And I will make bold to swear, he has never heard of 
 the Stamp Act." 
 
 " 'Tis strange," said the colonel, musing ; " I have heard of 
 this second sight — have seen it among my own negroes. But 
 I heartily pray that this may be but the childish fancy of 
 an old mariner. How do you interpret it, sir ? " he added, 
 addressing himself to me. 
 
 " If a prophecy, I can interpret it in but one way," I be- 
 gan, and there I stopped. 
 
 " To be sure," said Mr. Washington. He studied me awhile 
 as though weighing my judgment, and went on: "Needless 
 to say, Richard, that such a service, if it comes, will not be 
 that of his Majesty." 
 
 " And it were, colonel, I would not embark in it a step," 
 I cried. 
 
 He laughed. 
 
 "The lad has his father's impulse," he said to Captain 
 Daniel. " But I thought old Mr. Carvel to be one of the 
 warmest loyalists in the colonies." 
 
 I bit my lip ; for, since that unhappy deception of Mr. Car- 
 vel, I had not meant to be drawn into an avowal of my sen- 
 timents. But I had, alas, inherited a hasty tongue. 
 
 " Mr. Washington," said the captain, " old Mr. Carvel has 
 ever been a good friend to me. And, though I could not but 
 perceive which way the lad was tending, I had held it but a 
 poor return for friendship had I sought by word or deed to 
 bring him to my way of thinking, Nor have I ever suffered 
 his views in my presence." 
 
 " My dear sir, I honour you for it," put in the colonel, warmly. 
 
 " It is naught to my credit," returned the captain. " I 
 would not, for the sake of my party and beliefs, embitter 
 what remains of my old friend's life." 
 
 I drew a long breath and drained the full glass before me. 
 
 " Captain Daniel ! " I cried, " you must hear me now. I 
 have been waiting your coming these months. And if Colonel 
 Washington gives me leave, I will speak before him." 
 
 The colonel bade me proceed, avowing that Captain Carvel's 
 son should have his best assistance.
 
 MR. ALLEN SHOWS HIS HAND 133 
 
 With that I told them the whole story of Mr. Allen's vil- 
 lany. How I had been sent to him because of my Whig sen- 
 timents, and for thrashing a Tory schoolmaster and his flock. 
 This made the gentlemen laugh, tho' Captain Daniel had heard 
 it before. I went on to explain how Mr. Carvel had fallen ill, 
 and was like to die ; and how Mr. Allen, taking advantage of 
 his weakness when he rose from his bed, had gone to him with 
 the lie of having converted me. But when I told of the scene 
 between my grandfather and me at Carvel Hall, of the tears of 
 joy that the old gentleman shed, and of how he had given me 
 Firefly as a reward, the captain rose from his chair and looked 
 out of the window into the blackness, and swore a great oath 
 all to himself. And the expression I saw come into the colo- 
 nel's eyes I shall never forget. 
 
 " And you feared the consequences upon your grandfather's 
 health ? " he asked gravely. 
 
 " So help me God ! " I answered, " I truly believe that to 
 have undeceived him would have proved fatal." 
 
 "And so, for the sake of the sum he receives for teaching 
 you," cried the captain, with another oath, " this scoundrelly 
 clergyman has betrayed you into a lie. A scheme, by God's 
 life ! worthy of a Machiavelli ! " 
 
 " I have seen too many of his type in our parishes," said 
 Mr. Washington ; " and yet the bishop of London seems power- 
 less. And so used have we become in these Southern colonies 
 to tippling and gaming parsons, that I warrant his people 
 accept him as nothing out of the common." 
 
 " He is more discreet than the run of them, sir. His parish- 
 ioners dislike him, not because of his irregularities, but because 
 he is attempting to obtain All Saints from his Lordship, in 
 addition to St. Anne's. He is thought too greedy." 
 
 He was silent, his brow a little furrowed, and drummed with 
 his fingers upon the table. 
 
 " But this I cannot reconcile," said he, presently, " that the 
 reward is out of all proportion to the risk. Such a clever 
 rascal must play for higher stakes." 
 
 I was amazed at his insight. And for the moment was im- 
 pelled to make a clean breast of my suspicions, — nay, of my
 
 134 RICHAED CARVEL 
 
 convictions of the whole devil's plot. But I had no proofs. 
 I remembered that to the colonel my uncle was a gentleman of 
 respectability and of wealth, and a member of his Excellency's 
 Council. That to accuse him of scheming for my inheritance 
 would gain me nothing in Mr. Washington's esteem. And I 
 caught myself before I had said aught of Mr. Allen's conduct 
 that evening. 
 
 "Have you confronted this rector with his perfidy, Rich- 
 ard ? " he asked. 
 
 " I have, colonel, at my first opportunity." And I related 
 how Mr. Allen had come to the Hall, and what I had said to 
 him, and how he had behaved. And finally told of the picquet 
 we now had during lessons, not caring to shield myself. Both 
 listened intently, until the captain broke out. Mr. Washing- 
 ton's indignation was the stronger for being repressed. 
 
 " I will call him out ! " cried Captain Daniel, fingering his 
 sword, as was his wont when angered ; " I will call him out 
 despite his gown, or else horse him publicly ! " 
 
 "No, my dear sir, you will do nothing of the kind," said the 
 colonel. " You would gain nothing by it for the lad, and lose 
 much. Such rascals walk in water, and are not to be tracked. 
 He cannot be approached save through Mr. Lionel Carvel 
 himself, and that channel, for Mr. Carvel's sake, must be 
 closed." 
 
 " But he must be shown up ! " cried the captain. 
 
 "What good will you accomplish?" said Mr. Washington 5 
 " Lord Baltimore is notorious, and will not remove him. Nay, 
 sir, you must find a way to get the lad from his influence." 
 And he asked me how was my grandfather's health at present. 
 
 I said that he had mended beyond my hopes. 
 
 "And does he seem to rejoice that you are of the King's 
 party ? " 
 
 " Nay, sir. Concerning politics he seems strangely apathetic, 
 which makes me fear he is not so well as he appears. All his 
 life he has felt strongly." 
 
 " Then I beg you, Richard, take pains to keep neutral. Nor 
 let any passing event, however great, move you to speech or 
 action."
 
 MK. ALLEN SHOWS HIS HAND 135 
 
 The captain shook his head doubtfully, as the' questioning 
 the ability of one of my temper to do this. 
 
 " I do not trust myself, sir," I answered. 
 
 He rose, declaring it was past his hour for bed, and added 
 some kind things which I shall cherish in my memory. As he 
 was leaving he laid his hand on my shoulder. 
 
 " One word of advice, my lad," he said. " If by any chance 
 your convictions are to come to your grandfather's ears, let 
 him have them from your own lips." And he bade me good 
 night. 
 
 The captain tarried but a moment longer. 
 
 "I have a notion who is to blame for this, Richard," he 
 said. " When I come back from New York, we shall see what 
 we shall see." 
 
 " I fear he is too slippery for a soldier to catch," I answered. 
 
 He went away to bed, telling me to be prudent, and mind 
 the colonel's counsel until he returned from the North.
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 THE VOLTE COUPE 
 
 I WAS of a serious mind to take the advice. To prove this 
 I called for my wrap-rascal and cane, and for a fellow with a 
 flambeau to light me. But just then the party arrived from 
 the assembly. I was tempted, and I sat down again in a 
 corner of the room, resolved to keep a check upon myself, but 
 to stay awhile. 
 
 The rector was the first in, humming a song, and spied me. 
 
 " Ho ! " he cried, " will you drink, Richard ? Or do I drink 
 with you ? " 
 
 He was already purple with wine. 
 
 " God save me from you and your kind ! " I replied. 
 
 " 'Sblood ! what a devil's nest of fireworks ! " he exclaimed, 
 as he went off down the room, still humming, to where the rest 
 were gathered. And they were soon between bottle and stop- 
 per, and quips a-coursing. There was the captain of the Thun- 
 derer, CoUinson by name. Lord Comyn and two brother officers. 
 Will Fotheringay, my cousin Philip, openly pleased to be fo'-nd 
 in such a company, and some dozen other toadeaters who had 
 followed my Lord a-chair and afoot from the ball, and would 
 have tracked him to perdition had he chosen to go ; and lastly 
 Tom Swain, leering and hiccoughing at the jokes, in such a 
 beastly state of drunkenness as I had rarely seen him. His 
 Lordship recognized me and smiled, and was pushing his chair 
 back, when something Collinson said seemed to restrain him. 
 
 I believe I was the butt of more than one jest for my aloof- 
 ness, though I could not hear distinctly for the noise they 
 made. I commanded some Prench cognac, and kept my eye 
 on the rector, and the sight of him was making me dangerous 
 
 136
 
 THE VOLTE COUPE 137 
 
 1 forgot the advice I had received, and remembered only the 
 months he had goaded me. And I was even beginning to 
 speculate how I could best pick a quarrel with him on any 
 issue but politics, when an unexpected incident diverted me. 
 Of a sudden the tall, ungainly form of Percy Singleton filled 
 the doorway, wrapped in a greatcoat. He swept the room 
 at a glance, and then strode rapidly toward the corner where 
 I sat. 
 
 " I had thought to find you here," he said, and dropped into 
 a chair beside me. I offered him wine, but he refused. 
 
 " Now," he went on, " what has Patt}^ done ? " 
 
 " What have I done that I should be publicly insulted ? " I 
 cried. 
 
 " Insulted ! " says he, " and did she insult you ? She said 
 nothing of that." 
 
 " What brings you here, then ? " I demanded. 
 
 ''Not to talk, Richard," he said quietly, "'tis no time to- 
 night. I came to fetch you home. Patty sent me." 
 
 Patty sent him! Why had Patty sent him? But this I 
 did not ask, for I felt the devil within me. 
 
 "We must first finish this bottle," said I, offhand, "and 
 then I have a little something to be done which I have set my 
 heart upon. After that I will go with you." 
 
 " Richard, Richard, will you never learn prudence ? What 
 is it you speak of ? " 
 
 I drew my sword and laid it upon the table. 
 
 " I mean to spit that eel of a rector," said I, " or he will 
 bear a slap in the face. And you must see fair play." 
 
 Singleton seized my coat, at the same time grasping the hilt 
 of my SAVord with the other hand. But neither my words nor 
 my action had gone unnoticed by the other end of the room. 
 The company there fell silent awhile, and then we heard Cap- 
 tain Collinson talking in even, drawling tones. 
 
 " 'Tis strange," said he, " what hot sparks a man meets in 
 these colonies. They should be stamped out. His Majesty 
 pampers these d — d Americans, is too lenient by far. Gentle- 
 men, this is how I would indulge them ! " He raised a closed 
 fist and brought it down on the board.
 
 138 EICHARD CARVEL 
 
 He spoke to Tories, but he forgot that Tories were A.merL 
 cans. In those days only the meanest of tlie King's party 
 would listen to such without protest from an Englishman. 
 But some of the meaner sort were there : Philip and Tom 
 laughed, and Mr. Allen, and my Lord's sycophants. Fotherin- 
 gay and some others of sense shook their heads one to another, 
 comprehending that Captain Collinson was somewhat gone in 
 wine. For, indeed, he had not strayed far from the sideboard 
 at the assembly. Comyn made a motion to rise. 
 
 " It is already past three bells, sir, and a hunt to-morrow," 
 he said. 
 
 " From bottle to saddle, and from saddle to bottle, my Lord. 
 We must have our pleasure ashore, and sleep at sea," and the 
 captain tipped his flask with a leer. He turned his eye uncer- 
 tainly first on me, then on my Lord. "AVe are lately from 
 Boston, gentlemen, that charnel-house of treason, and before 
 we leave, my Lord, I must tell them how Mr. Robinson of the 
 customs served that dog Otis, in the British Coffee House. 
 God's word, 'twas as good as a play." 
 
 I know not how many got to their feet at that, for the story 
 of the cowardly beating of Mr. Otis by Robinson and the army 
 officers had swept over the colonies, burning like a flame all 
 true-hearted men, Tory and Whig alike. I wrested my sword 
 from Singleton's hold, and in a trice I had reached the captain 
 over chairs and table, tearing myself from Fotheringay on the 
 way. I struck a blow that measured a man on the floor. Then 
 I drew back, amazed. 
 
 I had hit Lord Comyn instead ! The captain stood a yard 
 beyond me. 
 
 The thing had been so deftly done by the rector of St. 
 Anne's — Comyn jostled at the proper moment between me and 
 Collinson — that none save me guessed beyond an accident; 
 least of all my Lord Comyn himself. He was up again directly 
 and his sword drawn, addressing me. 
 
 " Bear witness, my Lord, that I have no desire to fight with 
 you," said I, with what coolness I could muster. "But there 
 is one here I would give much for a chance to run through." 
 
 And I made a step toward Mr. Allen with such a purpose
 
 THE VOLTE COUPE 139 
 
 ID my face and inovemeuts t\iat he could not mistake. I saw 
 the blood go from his face ; yet he was no coward to physical 
 violence. But he (or I ?) was saved by the Satan's luck that 
 followed him, for my Lord stepped in between us with a bow, 
 his cheek red where I had struck him. 
 
 " It is my quarrel now, Mr. Carvel," he cried. 
 
 '' As you please, my Lord," said I. 
 
 " It boots not who crosses with him," Captain Collinson put 
 in. " His Lordship uses the sword better than any here. But it 
 boots not so that he is opposed by a loyal servant of the King." 
 
 I wheeled on him for this. 
 
 " I would have you know that loyalty does not consist in 
 outrage and murder, sir," I answered, "nor in the ridiculing 
 of them. And brutes cannot be loyal save through interest." 
 
 He was angered, as I had desired. I had hopes then of 
 shouldering the quarrel on to him, for I had near as soon 
 drawn against my own brother as against Comyn. I protest I 
 loved him then as one with whom I had been reared. 
 
 " Let me deal with this young gamecock, Comyn," cried the 
 captain, with an oath. "He seems to think his importance 
 sufficient." 
 
 But Comyn would brook no interference. He swore that no 
 man should strike him with impunity, and in this I could not 
 but allow he was right. 
 
 " You shall hear from me, Mr. Carvel," he said. 
 
 "Nay," I answered, "and fighting is to be done, sir, let us 
 be through with it at once. A large room upstairs is at our 
 disposal ; and there is a hunt to-morrow which one of us may 
 like to attend." 
 
 There was a laugh at this, in which his Lordship joined. 
 
 "I would to God, Mr. Carvel," he said, "that I had no 
 quarrel with you ! " 
 
 " Amen to that, my Lord," I replied ; " there are others here 
 I would rather fight." And I gave a meaning look at Mr. 
 Allen. I was of two minds to announce the scurvy trick he 
 had played, but saw that I would lose rather than gain by the 
 attempt. Up to that time the wretch had not spoken a wordj 
 now he pushed himself forward, though well clear of me.
 
 140 BICHARD CARVEL 
 
 " I think it my duty as Mr. Carvel's tutor, gentlemen, to 
 protest against this matter proceeding," he said, a sneer creep- 
 ing into his voice. " ISTor can I be present at it. Mr. Carvel 
 is young and, besides, is not himself with liquor. And, in the 
 choice of politics, he knows not which leg he stands upon. 
 My Lord and gentlemen, your most humble and devoted." 
 
 He made a bow and, before the retort on my lips could 
 be spoken, left the tavern. My cousin Philip left with him. 
 Tom Swain had fallen asleep in his chair. 
 
 Captain Collinson and Mr. Furness, of the TImnderer, offered 
 to serve his Lordship, which made me bethink that I, too, would 
 have need of some one. 'Twas then I remembered Singleton, 
 who had passed from my mind. 
 
 He was standing close behind me, and nodded simply when 
 I asked him. And Will Fotheringay came forward. 
 
 " I will act, Richard, if you allow me," he said. " I would 
 have you know I am in no wise hostile to you, my Lord, and 
 I am of the King's party. But I admire Mr. Carvel, and I 
 may say I am not wholly out of sympathy with that which 
 prompted his act." 
 
 It was a noble speech, and changed Will in my eyes ; and I 
 thanked him with warmth. He. of all that company had the 
 courage to oppose his Lordship ! 
 
 Mr. Claude was called in and, as is the custom in such cases, 
 was told that some of us would play awhile above. He was 
 asked for his private room. The good man had his sus- 
 picions, but could not refuse a party of such distinction, and 
 sent a drawer thither with wine and cards. Presently we 
 followed, leaving the pack of toadies in sad disappointment 
 below. 
 
 We gathered about the table and made shift at loo until the 
 fellow had retired, when the seconds proceeded to clear the 
 room of furniture, and Lord Comyn and I stripped off our 
 coats and waistcoats. I had lost my anger, but felt no fear, 
 only a kind of pity that blood should be shed between two so 
 united in spirit as we. Yes, my dears, I thought of Dorothy. 
 If I died, she would hear that it was like a man — like a 
 Carvel. But the thought of my old grandfather tightened my
 
 THE VOLTE COUPE 141 
 
 heart. Then the clock on the inn stairs struck two, and the noise 
 of harsh laughter floated up to us from below. 
 
 And Comyn, — of what was he thinking ? Of some fair 
 home set upon the downs across the sea, of some heroic Eng- 
 lish mother who had kept her tears until he was gone ? Her 
 image rose in dumb entreaty, invoked by the lad before me. 
 What a picture was he in his spotless shirt with the ruffles, 
 his handsome boyish face all that was good and honest ! 
 
 I had scarce felt his Lordship's wrist than I knew I had to 
 deal with a pupil of Angelo. At first his attacks were all 
 simple, without feint or trickery, as were mine. Collinson 
 cursed and cried out that it was buffoonery, and called on my 
 Lord not to let me off so easily ; swore that I fenced like a 
 mercer, that he could have stuck me like a pin-cushion twenty 
 and twenty times. Often have I seen two animals thrust into 
 a pit with nothing but good-will between them, and those with- 
 out force them into anger and a deadly battle. And so it was, 
 unconsciously, between Comyn and me. I forgot presently 
 that I was not dealing with Captain Collinson, and my feelings 
 went into my sword. Comyn began to press me, nor did I give 
 back. And then, before it came over me that we had to do 
 with life and death, he was upon me with a volte coupe, feint- 
 ing in high carle and thrusting in low tierce, his point passing 
 through a fold in my shirt. And I were not alive to write 
 these words had I not leaped out of his measure. 
 
 '' Bravo, Richard ! " cried Fotheringay. 
 
 " Well made, gad's life ! " from Mr. Furness. 
 
 .We engaged again, our faces hot. Now I knew that if I 
 did not carry the matter against him I should be killed out of 
 hand, and Heaven knows 1 was not used to pla}' a passive part. 
 I began to go carefully, but fiercely; tried one attack after 
 another that ray grandfather and Captain Daniel had taught 
 me, — flanconnades, beats, and lunges. Comyn held me even, 
 and in truth I had much to do to defend myself. Once I 
 thought I had him in the sword-arm, after a circular parry, 
 but he was too quick for me. We were sweating freely by 
 now, and by reason of the buzzing in my ears I could scarce 
 hear ths applause of the seconds.
 
 142 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 What unlucky chance it was I know not that impelled 
 Comyn to essay again the trick by which he had come so near 
 to spitting me ; but try it he did, this time in prime and 
 seconde. I had come by nature to that intuition which a 
 true swordsman must have, gleaned from the eyes of his adver- 
 sary. Long ago Captain Daniel had taught me the remedy 
 for this coupe. I parried, circled, and straightened, my body 
 in swift motion and my point at Comyn's heart, when Heaven 
 brought me recollection in the space of a second. My sword 
 rang clattering on the floor. 
 
 His Lordship understood, but too late. Despairing his life, 
 he made one wild lunge at me that had never gone home had 
 I held to my hilt. But the rattle of the blade had scarce 
 reached my ears when there came a sharp pain at my throat, 
 and the room faded before me. I heard the clock striking the 
 half -hour. 
 
 I was blessed with a sturdy health such as few men enjoy, 
 and came to myself sooner than had been looked for, with a 
 dash of cold water. And the first face I beheld was that of 
 Colonel Washington. I heard him speaking in a voice that 
 was calm, yet urgent and commanding. 
 
 "I pray you, gentlemen, give back. He is coming to, and 
 must have air. Fetch some linen ! " 
 
 " Now God be praised ! " I heard Captain Daniel cry. 
 
 With that his Lordship began to tear his own shirt into 
 strips, and the captain bringing a bowl and napkin, the colonel 
 himself washed the wound and bound it deftly. Singleton and 
 Captain Daniel assisting. When Mr. Washington had fin- 
 ished, he turned to Comyn, who stood, anxious and dishevelled, 
 at my feet. 
 
 " You may be thankful that you missed the artery, my 
 Lord," he said. 
 
 " With all my heart, Colonel Washington ! " cried his Lord- 
 ship. "I owe my life to his generosity." 
 
 " What's that, sir ? " 
 
 " Mr. Carvel dropped his sword, rather than run me through." 
 
 " I'll warrant ! " Captain Daniel put in ; " 'Od's heart I The
 
 THE VOLTE COUPE 143 
 
 lad has skill to point the eye of a button. I taught him 
 myself." 
 
 Colonel Washington stood up and laid his hand on the cap- 
 tain's arm. 
 
 " He is Jack Carvel over again," I heard him say, in a low 
 voice. 
 
 I tried to struggle to my feet, to speak, but he restrained 
 me. And sending for his servants, he ordered them to have 
 his baggage removed from the Eoebuck, which was the best 
 bed in the house. At this moment the door opened, and Mr. 
 Swain came in hurriedly. 
 
 "I pray you, gentlemen," he cried, "and he is fit to be 
 moved, you will let me take him to Marlboro' Street. I have 
 a chariot at the door."
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 OP WHICH THE RECTOR HAS THE WORST 
 
 'TwAS late when I awoke the next day with something of a 
 dull ache in my neck, and a prodigious stiffness, studying the 
 pleatings of the bed canopy over my head. And I know not 
 how long I lay idly thus when I perceived Mrs. Willis moving 
 quietly about, and my grandfather sitting in the armchair by 
 the window, looking into Freshwater Lane. As my eyes fell 
 upon him my memory came surging back, — first of the duel, 
 then of its cause. And finally, like a leaden weight, the 
 thought of the deception I had practised upon him, of which 
 he must have learned ere this. Nay, I was sure from the 
 troubled look of his face that he knew of it. 
 
 " Mr. Carvel," I said. 
 
 At the sound of my voice he got hastily from his chair and 
 hurried to my side. 
 
 " Richard," he answered, taking my hand, " Richard ! " 
 
 I opened my mouth to speak, to confess. But he prevented 
 me, the tears filling the wrinkles around his eyes. 
 
 " Nay, lad, nay. We will not talk of it. I know all." 
 
 " Mr. Allen has been here — "I began. 
 
 " And be d — d to him ! Be d — d to him for a wolf in 
 sheep's clothing ! " shouted my grandfather, his manner shift- 
 ing so suddenly to anger that I was taken back. " So help me 
 God I will never set foot in St. Anne's while he is rector. Nor 
 shall he come to this house ! " 
 
 And he took three or four disorderly turns about the room. 
 
 " Ah ! " he continued more quietly, with something of a sigh, 
 " I might have known how stubborn your mind should be. That 
 you was never one to blow from the north one day and from 
 
 144
 
 OF WHICH THE EECTOR HAS THE WORST 145 
 
 the south the next. I deny not that there be good men and 
 able of your way of thinking: Colonel Washington, for one, 
 whom I admire and honour; and our friend Captain Daniel. 
 They have been here to-day, Richard, and I promise you were 
 good advocates." 
 
 Then I knew that I was forgiven. And I could have thrown 
 myself at Mr. Carvel's feet for happiness. 
 
 " Has Colonel Washington spoken in my favour, sir ? " 
 
 "That he has. He is upon some urgent business for the 
 North, I believe, which he delayed for your sake. Both he 
 and the captain were in my dressing-room before I was up, 
 ahead of that scurrilous clergyman, who was for pushing his 
 way to my bed-curtains. Ay, the two of them were here at 
 nigh dawn this morning, and Mr. Allen close after them. And 
 I own that Captain Daniel can swear with such a consuming 
 violence as to put any rogue out of countenance. 'Twas all 
 Mr. Washington could do to restrain Clapsaddle from booting 
 his Reverence over the balustrade and down two runs of the 
 stairs, the captain declaring he would do for every cur's son of 
 the whelps. 'Diomedes,' says I, waking up,.' what's this dam- 
 nable racket on the landing? Is Mr. Richard home?' For I 
 had some notion it was you, sir, after an over-night brawl. 
 And I profess I would have caned you soundly. The fellow 
 answered that Captain Clapsaddle's honour was killing Mr. 
 Allen, and went out; and came back presently to say that 
 some tall gentleman had the captain by the neck, and that 
 Mr. Allen was picking his way down the ice on the steps out- 
 side. With that I went in to them in my dressing-gown. 
 
 " ' What's all this to-do, gentlemen ? ' said I. 
 
 " ' I'd have finished that son of a dog,' says the captain, ' and 
 Colonel Washington had let me.' 
 
 "'What, what!' said I. 'How now? What! Drive a 
 clergyman from my house ! What's Richard been at now, 
 gentlemen ? ' 
 
 " Mr. Washington asked me to dress, saying that they had 
 something very particular to speak about ; that they would 
 stay to breakfast with me, tho' they were in haste to be gone to 
 New York. I made my compliments to the colonel and had
 
 146 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 them shown to the library fire, and hurried down after them 
 Then they told me of this affair last night, and they cleared 
 you, sir. ' Faith,' cried I, ' and I would have fought, too. The 
 lad was in the right of it, though I would have him a little less 
 hasty.' D — n me if I don't wish you had knocked that sea- 
 captain's teeth into his throat, and his brains with them. I 
 like your spirit, sir. A pox on such men as he, who disgrace 
 his Majesty's name and set better men against him." 
 
 " And they told you nothing else, sir ? " I asked, with 
 misgiving. 
 
 " That they did. Mr. Washington repeated the confession 
 you made to them, sir, in a manner that did you credit. He 
 made me compliments on you, — said that you were a man, 
 sir, though a trifle hasty : in the which I agreed. Yes, d — n 
 me, a trifle hasty like your father. I rejoice that you did not 
 kill his Lordship, my son." 
 
 The twilight was beginning; and the old gentleman going 
 back to his chair was set a-musing, gazing out across the bare 
 trees and gables falling gray after the sunset. 
 
 What amazed me was that he did not seem to be shocked 
 by the revelation near as mu^ch as I had feared. So this mat- 
 ter had brought me happiness where I looked for nothing but 
 sorrow. 
 
 " And the gentlemen are gone north, sir ? " said I, after a 
 while. 
 
 " Yes, Richard, these four hours. I commanded an early 
 dinner for them, since the colonel was pleased to tarry long 
 enough for a little politics and to spin a glass. And I profess, 
 was I to live neighbours with such a man, I might come to 
 his way of thinking, despite myself. Though I say it that 
 shouldn't, some of his Majesty's ministers are d — d rascals." 
 
 I laughed. As I live, I never hoped to hear such words 
 from my grandfather's lips. 
 
 "He did not seek to convince, like so many of your hot- 
 headed know-it-alls," said Mr, Carvel; "he leaves a man to 
 convince himself. He has great parts, Richard, and few can 
 stand before him." He paused. And then his smooth-shaven 
 face became creased in a roguish smile which I had often seen
 
 OF WHICH THE RECTOR HAS THE WORST 147 
 
 upon it. " What baggage is this I hear of that you quarrelled 
 over at the assembly ? Ah, sir, I fear you are become but a 
 sad rake ! " says he. 
 
 But by great good fortune Dr. Leiden was shown in at this 
 instant. And the candles being lighted, he examined my neck, 
 haranguing the while in his vile English against the practice 
 of duelling. He bade me keep my bed for two days, thereby 
 giving me no great pleasure. 
 
 " As I liope to live," said Mr. Carvel when the doctor was 
 gone, "one would have thought his Excellency himself had 
 been pinked instead of a whip of a lad, for the people who 
 have been here. His Lordship and Dr. Courtenay came before 
 the hunt, and young Mr. Fotheringay, and half a score of 
 others. Mr. Swain is but now left to go to Baltimore on some 
 barrister's business." 
 
 1 was burning to learn what the rector had said to Patty, 
 but it was plain Mr. Carvel knew nothing of this part of the 
 story. He had not mentioned Grafton among the callers. I 
 wondered Avhat course my uncle would now pursue, that his 
 plans to alienate me from my grandfather had failed. And I 
 began debating whether or not to lay the Avhole plot before 
 Mr. Carvel. Prudence bade me wait, since Grafton had not 
 consorted with the rector — openly, at least — for more than 
 a year. And yet I spoke. 
 
 " Mr. Carvel ! " 
 
 He stirred in his chair. 
 
 •'Yes, my son." 
 
 He had to repeat, and still I held my tongue. Even as I 
 nesitated there came a knock at the door, and Scipio entered, 
 bearing candles. 
 
 " Massa Grafton, suh," he said. 
 
 My uncle was close at his heels. He was soberly dressed in 
 dark brown silk, and his face wore that expression of sorrow 
 and concern he knew how to assume at will. After greeting 
 his father with his usual ceremony, he came to my bedside and 
 asked gravely how I did. 
 
 " How now, Grafton ! " cried Mr. Carvel ; " this is no funeral. 
 The lad has only a scratch, thank God ! "
 
 148 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 My uncle looked at me and forced a smile. 
 
 " Indeed I am rejoiced to find you are not worried over this 
 matter, father," said he. " I am but just back from Kent to 
 learn of it, and looked to find you in bed." 
 
 " Why, no, sir, I am not worried. I fought a duel in my own 
 day, — over a lass, it was." 
 
 This time Grafton's smile was not forced. 
 
 " Over a lass, was it ? " he asked, and added in a tone of 
 relief, " and how do you, nephew ? " 
 
 Mr. Carvel saved me from replying. 
 
 " 'Od's life ! " he cried ; " no, I did not say this was over a 
 lass. I have heard the whole matter ; how Captain Collinson, 
 who is a disgrace to the service, brought shame upon his 
 Majesty's supporters, and how Richard felled the young lord 
 instead. I'll be sworn, and I had been there, I myself would 
 have run the brute through." 
 
 My uncle did not ask for further particulars, but took a 
 chair, and a dish of tea from Scipio. His smug look told me 
 plainer than words that he thought my grandfather still igno- 
 rant of my Whig sentiments. 
 
 " I often wish that this deplorable practice of duelling might 
 be legislated against," he remarked.- " Was there no one at the 
 Coffee House with character enough to stop the lads ? " 
 
 Here was my chance. 
 
 " Mr. Allen was there," I said. 
 
 " A devil's plague upon him ! " shouted my grandfather, 
 beating the floor with his stick. " And the lying hypocrite ever 
 crosses my path, by gad's life ! I'll tear his gown from his 
 back ! " 
 
 I watched Grafton narrowly. Such as he never turn pale, 
 but he set down his tea so hastily as to spill the most of it on 
 the dresser. 
 
 " Why, you astound me, my dear father ! " he faltered ; " Mr. 
 Allen a lying hypocrite ? What can he have done ? " 
 
 *' Done ! " cried my grandfather, sputtering and red as a 
 cherry with indignation. " He is as rotten within as a pricked 
 pear, I tell you, sir ! For the sake of retaining the lad in his 
 tuition he came to me and lied, sir, just after I had escaped
 
 OF WHICH THE RECTOR HAS THE WORST 149 
 
 death, and said that by his influence Richard had become loyal, 
 and set dependence upon Richard's fear of the shock 'twould 
 give me if he confessed — Richard, who never told me a false- 
 hood in his life ! And instead of teaching him, he has gamed 
 with the lad at the rectory. I dare make oath he has treated 
 your son to a like instruction. 'Slife, sir, and he had his 
 deserts, he would hang from a gibbet at the Town Gate." 
 
 I raised up in bed to see the effect of this on my uncle. But 
 however the wind veered, Grafton could steer a course. He 
 got up and began pacing the room, and his agitation my grand- 
 father took for indignation such as his own. 
 
 " The dog ! " he cried fiercely. " The villain ! Philip shall 
 leave him to-morrow. And to think that it was I who moved 
 you to put Richard to him ! " 
 
 His distress seemed so real that Mr. Carvel replied : — 
 
 "No, Grafton, 'twas not your fault. You were deceived as 
 dich as I. You have put your own son to him. But if I live 
 another twelve hours I shall write his Lordship to remove him. 
 What ! You shake your head, sir ! " 
 
 " It will not do," said my uncle. " Lord Baltimore has had 
 his reasons for sending such a scoundrel — he knew what he 
 was, you may be sure, father. His Lordship, sir, is the most 
 abandoned rake in London, and that unmentionable crime of 
 his but lately in the magazines — " 
 
 " Yes, yes," my grandfather interrupted ; " I have seen it. 
 But I will publish him in Annapolis." 
 
 My uncle's answer startled me, so like was it to the argu- 
 ment Colonel Washington himself had used. 
 
 " What would you publish, sir ? Mr. Allen will reply that 
 what he did was for the lad's good, and your own. He may 
 swear that since Richard mentioned politics no more he had 
 taken his conversion for granted." 
 
 My grandfather groaned, and did not speak, and I saw the 
 futility of attempting to bring Grafton to earth for a while yet. 
 
 My uncle had recovered his confidence. He had hoped, so 
 he said, that I had become a good loyalist: perchance as I 
 grew older I would see the folly of those who called them- 
 selves Patriots. But my grandfather cried out to him not to
 
 150 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 bother me then. And when at last he was gone, of my own 
 volition I proposed to promise Mr, Carvel that, while he lived, 
 I would take no active part in any troubles that might come. 
 He stopped me with some vehemence. 
 
 " I pray God there may be no troubles, lad," he answered ; 
 " but you need give me no promise. I would rather see you in 
 the Whig ranks than a trimmer, for the Carvels have ever been 
 partisans." 
 
 I tried to express my gratitude. But he sighed and wished 
 me good night, bidding me get some rest. 
 
 I had scarce finished my breakfast the next morning when I 
 heard a loud rat-tat-tat upon the street door — surely the foot- 
 man of some person of consequence. And Scipio was in the 
 act of announcing the names when, greatly to his disgust, 
 the visitors themselves rushed into my bedroom and curtailed 
 the ceremony. They were none other than Dr. Courtenay and 
 my Lord Comyn himself. His Lordship had no sooner seen 
 me than he ran to the bed, grasped both my hands and asked 
 me how I did, declaring he would not have gone to yesterday's 
 hunt had he been permitted to visit me. 
 
 "Richard," cried the doctor, "your fame has sprung up like 
 Jonah's gourd. The Gazette is but just distributed. Here's 
 for you ! 'Twill set the wags a-going, I'll warrant." 
 
 He drew tiie newspaper from his pocket and began to read, 
 stopping now and anon to laugh : — 
 
 " Rumour hath it that a Young Gentleman of Quality of this 
 Town, who is possessed of more Valour than Discretion, and 
 whose Skill at Fence and in the Field is beyond his Years, 
 crossed Swords on Wednesday ISTight with a Young Nobleman 
 from the Thunderer. The Cause of this Deplorable Quarrel, 
 which had its Origin at the Ball, is purported to have been a 
 Young Lady of Wit and Beauty. (& we doubt it not; for, 
 alas ! the Sex hath Much to answer for of this Kind.> 
 
 " The Gentlemen, with their Seconds, repaired after the As- 
 sembly to the Coffee House, 'Tis said upon Authority that 
 H-s L — dsh-p owes his Life to the Noble Spirit of our Young 
 American, who cast down his Blade rather than sheathe it in 
 his Adversary's Body, thereby himself receiving a Grievous,
 
 OF WHICH THE RECTOR HAS THE WORST 151 
 
 tho' happily not Mortal, Wound. Our Young Gentleman is 
 become the Hero of the Town, and the Subject of Prodigious 
 Anxiety of all the Ladies thereof." 
 
 " There's for you, my lad ! " says he ; *' Mr. G/:een has done 
 for you both cleverly." 
 
 " Upon my soul," I cried, raising up in bed, " he should be 
 put in the gatehouse for his impudence ! My Lord, — " 
 
 "Don't *My Lord' me," says Comyn; "plain 'Jack' will 
 do." 
 
 There was no resisting such a man: and I said as much. 
 And took his hand and called him 'Jack,' the doctor posing 
 before the mirror the while, stroking his ruffles. " Out upon 
 you both," says he, " for a brace of sentimental fools ! " 
 
 " Richard," said Comyn, presently, with a roguish glance at 
 the doctor, "there were some reason in our fighting had it 
 been over a favour of Miss Manners. Eh ? Come, doctor," he 
 cried, " you will break your neck looking for the reflection of 
 wrinkles. Come, now, Ave must have little Finery's letter. I 
 give you my word Chartersea is as ugly as all three heads of 
 Cerberus, and as foul as a ship's barrel of grease. I tell you 
 Miss Dorothy would sooner marry you." 
 
 " And she might do worse, my Lord," the doctor flung back, 
 with a strut. 
 
 "Ay, and better. But I promise you Richard and I are 
 not such fools as to think she will marry his Grace. We must 
 have the little coxcomb's letter." 
 
 "Well, have it you must, I suppose," returns the doctor. 
 And with that he draws it from his pocket, where he has it 
 buttoned in. Then he took a pinch of Holland and began. 
 
 The first two pages had to deal with Miss Dorothy's tri- 
 umph, to which her father made full justice. Mr. Manners 
 would have the doctor (and all the province) to know that 
 peers of the realm, soldiers, and statesmen were at her feet. 
 Orders were as plentiful in his drawing-room as the candles. 
 And he had taken a house in Arlington Street, where Horry 
 Walpole lived when not at Strawberry, and their entrance was 
 crowded night and day with the footmen and chairmen of the 
 grand monde. Lord Comyn broke in more than once upon
 
 152 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 the reading, crying, — " Hear, hear ! " and, — " My word, Mr. 
 Manners lias not perjured himself thus far. He has not done 
 her justice by half." And I smiled at the thought that I had 
 aspired to such a beauty ! 
 
 " 'Entre nous, mon cher Courtenay,' Mr. Manners writes, 'entre 
 ' nous, our Dorothy hath had many offers of great advantage since 
 she hath been here. And but yesterday comes a chariot with a 
 ducal coronet to our door. His Grace of Chartersea, if you 
 please, to request a private talk with me. And I rode with 
 him straightway to his house in Hanover Square.' " 
 
 " 'Egad ! And would gladly have ridden straightway to New- 
 gate, in a ducal chariot ! " cried his Lordship, in a lit of laughter. 
 
 " ' I rode to Hanover Square,' the doctor continued, ' where 
 we discussed the matter over a bottle. His Grace's generosity 
 was such that I could not but cry out at it, for he left me to 
 name any settlement I pleased. He must have Dorothy at any 
 price, said he. And I give you my honour, mon clier Courtenay, 
 that I lost no time in getting back to Arlington Street, anc? 
 called Dorothy down to tell her.' " 
 
 "Now may I be flayed," said Comyn, "if ever there was 
 such another ass ! " 
 
 The doctor took more snuff and fell a-laughing. 
 
 "But hark to this," said he, "here's the cream of it all: 
 ' You will scarce believe me when I say that the baggage was 
 near beside herself with anger at what I had to tell her. 
 " Marry that misshapen duke ! " cries she, " I would quicker 
 marry Doctor Johnson ! " And truly, I begin to fear she hath 
 formed an affection for some like, foul-linened beggar. That 
 his Grace is misshapen I cannot deny ; but I tried reason upon 
 her. " Think of the coronet, my dear, and of the ancient name 
 to which it belongs." She only stamps her foot and cries out : 
 " Coronet fiddlesticks ! And are you not content with the 
 name you bear, sir ? " " Our name is good as any in the three 
 kingdoms," said I, with truth. " Then you would have me, for 
 the sake of the coronet, joined to a wretch who is steeped in 
 debauchery. Yes, debauchery, sir ! You might then talk, 
 forsooth, to the macaronies of Maryland, of your daughter the 
 Duchess."'"
 
 OF WHICH THE RECTOR HAS THE WORST 153 
 
 " There's spirit for you, my lad ! " Comyn shouted ; " I give 
 you Miss Dorotliy." And he drained a glass of punch Scipio 
 had brought in, Doctor Courtenay and I joining him with a 
 will. 
 
 " I pray you go on, sir," I said to the doctor. 
 
 " A pest on your impatience ! " replied he ; "I begin to think 
 you are in love with her yourself." 
 
 " To be sure he is," said Comyn ; " he had lost my esteem 
 and he were not." 
 
 The doctor gave me an odd look. I was red enough, indeed. 
 
 " ' I could say naught, my dear Courtenay, to induce her to 
 believe that his Grace's indiscretions arose from the wildness 
 of youth. And I pass over the injustice she hath unwittingly 
 done me, whose only efforts are for her bettering. The end 
 of it all was that I must needs post back to the duke, who Avas 
 stamping with impatience up and down, and drinking Bur- 
 gundy. I am sure I meant him no offence, but told him in as 
 many words, that my daughter had refused him. And, will 
 you believe me, sir ? He took occasion to insult me (T cannot 
 with propriety repeat his speech), and he flung a bottle after 
 me as I passed out the door. Was he not far gone in wine at 
 the time, I assure you I had called him out for it.' " 
 
 " And, gentlemen," said the doctor, when our merriment was 
 somewhat spent, " I'll lay a pipe of the best Madeira, that our 
 little fool never knows the figure he has cut with his Grace."
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 IN WHICH SOME THINGS ARE MADE CLEAR 
 
 The Thunderer weighed the next day, Saturday, while I was 
 still upon my back, and Comyn sailed with her. Not, however, 
 before I had seen him again. Our affection was such as comes 
 not often to those who drift together to part. And he left me 
 that sword with the jewelled hilt, that hangs above my study 
 fire, which he had bought in Toledo. He told me that he was 
 heartily sick of the navy ; that he had entered only in respect 
 for a wish of his father's, the late Admiral Lord Comyn, and 
 that the Thunderer was to sail for New York, where he looked 
 for a release from his commission, and whence he would return 
 to England. He would carry any messages to Miss Manners 
 that I chose to send. But I could think of none, save to beg 
 him to remind her that she was constantly in my thoughts. 
 He promised me, roguishly enough, that he would have thought 
 of a better than that by the time he sighted Cape Clear. And 
 were I ever to come to London he would put me up at Brooks's 
 Club, and warrant me a better time and more friends than ever 
 had a Caribbee who came home on a visit. 
 
 My grandfather kept his word in regard to Mr. Allen, and 
 on Sunday commanded the coach at eight. We drove over bad 
 roads to the church at South Kiver. And he afterwards de- 
 clined the voluntary aid he hitherto had been used to give to 
 St. Anne's. In the meantime, good Mr. Swain had called 
 again, bringing some jelly and cake of Patty's own making ; 
 and a letter writ out of the sincerity of her heart, full of tender 
 concern and of penitence. She would never cease to blame 
 herself for the wrong she now knew she had done me. 
 
 Though still somewhat weak from my wound and confine- 
 
 154
 
 SOME THINGS ARE MADE CLEAR 155 
 
 nient, after dinner that Sunday I repaired to Gloucester Street 
 From the window she saw me coming, and, bare-headed, ran out 
 in the cold to meet me. Her eyes rested first on the linen 
 around my throat, and she seemed all in a fire of anxiety. 
 
 '' I had thought you would come to-day, when I heard you 
 had been to South River," she said. 
 
 I was struck all of a sudden with her looks. Her face was 
 pale, and I saw that she had suffered as much again as 1. 
 Troubled, I followed her into the little library. The day was 
 fading fast, and the leaping flames behind the andirons threw 
 fantastic shadows across the beams of the ceiling. We sat 
 together "in the deep window. 
 
 " And you have forgiven me, Richard ? " she asked. 
 
 " An hundred times," I replied. " I deserved all I got, and 
 more." 
 
 " If I had not wronged and insulted you — " 
 
 " You did neither, Patty," I broke in ; "I have played a 
 doiible part for the first and last time in my life, and I have 
 been justly punished for it." 
 
 "'Twas I sent you to the Coffee House," she cried, "where 
 you might have been killed. How I despise myself for listen- 
 ing to Mr. Allen's tales ! " 
 
 " Then it was Mr. Allen ! " I exclaimed, fetching a long 
 breath. 
 
 "Yes, yes; I will tell you all." 
 
 " No," said I, alarmed at her agitation ; " another time." 
 
 " I must," she answered more calmly ; " it has burned me 
 enough. You recall that we were at supper together, with 
 Betty Tayloe and Lord Comyn, and how merry we Avere, altho' 
 'twas nothing but ' Dorothy ' with you gentlemen. Then you 
 left me. Afterwards, as I was talking with Mr. Singleton, the 
 rector came up. I never have liked the man, Richard, but 1 
 little knew his character. He began by twitting me for a 
 Whig, and presently he said: 'But we have gained one con- 
 vert. Miss Swain, who sees the error of his ways. Scarce a 
 year since young Richard Carvel promised to be one of those 
 with whom his Majesty will have to reckon. And he is now 
 become,' — faughing, — 'the King's most loyal and devoted.'
 
 156 EICHARD CARVEL 
 
 I was beside myself. ' That is no subject for jest, Mr. Allen,' 
 I cried ; ' I Avill never believe it of him ! ' ' Jest ! ' said he ; 'I 
 give you my word I was never soberer in my life.' Then it 
 all came to me of a sudden that you sat no longer by the hour 
 with my father, as you used, and you denounced the King's 
 measures and ministers no more. My father had spoken of it. 
 ^ Tell me why he has changed ? ' I asked) faltering with doubt 
 of you, which I never before had felt. 'Indeed, 1 know not,' 
 replied the rector, with his most cynical smile ; ' unless it is 
 because old Mr. Carvel might disinherit a Whig. But I see 
 you doubt my word. Miss Swain. Here is Mr. Carroll, and 
 you may ask him.' God forgive me, Richard ! I stopped Mr. 
 Carroll, who seemed mightily surprised. And he told me yes, 
 that your grandfather had said but a few days before, and with 
 joy, that you were now of his Majesty's party." 
 
 " Alas ! I might have foreseen this consequence," I ex- 
 claimed. "Nor do I blame you, Patty." 
 
 " But my father has explained all," Patty continued, bright- 
 ening. " His admiration for you is increased tenfold, Richard. 
 Your grandfather told him of the rector's treachery, which he 
 says is sufficient to make him turn Methodist or Lutheran. 
 We went to the curate's service to-day. And — will you hear 
 more, sir ? Or do your ears burn ? That patriots and loyal- 
 ists are singing your praises from Town Gate to the dock, and 
 regretting that you did not kill that detestable Captain Collin- 
 son — but I have something else, and of more importance, to 
 tell you, Richard," she continued, lowering her voice. 
 
 " AVhat Mr. Carroll had told me stunned me like a blow, such 
 had been my faith in you. And when Mr. Allen moved off, I 
 stood talking to Percy Singleton and his Lordship without 
 understanding a word of the conversation. I could scarce 
 have been in my right mind. It was not your going over to 
 the other side that pained me so, for all your people are Tories. 
 But I had rather seen you dead than a pretender and a hypo- 
 crite, selling yourself for an inheritance. Then you came. 
 My natural impulse should have been to draw you aside and 
 there accuse you. But this was beyond my strength. And 
 when I saw you go away without a word I knew that I had
 
 SOME THINGS ARE MADE CLEAR 157 
 
 been uniust. I could have wept before them all. Mr. Carroll 
 went for tiis coach, and was a full half an hour in getting it 
 But this is what I would tell you in particular, Richard. I 
 have not spoken of it to a soul, and it troubles ine above all 
 else : While Maria was getting my cardinal I heard voices on 
 the other side of the dressing-room door. The supper-room is 
 next, you know. I listened, and recognized the rector's deep 
 tones : ' He has gone to the Coffee House,' he was saying ; 
 'Collinson declares that his Lordship is our man, if we can 
 but contrive it. He is the best foil in the service, and was 
 taught by ' — there ! I have forgot the name." 
 
 " Angelo ! " I cried. 
 
 " Yes, yes, Angelo it was. How did you know ? " she de- 
 manded, rising in her excitement. 
 
 "Angelo is the great fencing-master of London," I replied. 
 
 " When I heard that," she said, " I had no doubt of your 
 innocence. I ran out into the assembly room as I was, in 
 my hood, and tried to find Tom. But he — " She paused, 
 ashamed. 
 
 "Yes, I know," I said hurriedly ; "you could not find him." 
 
 She glanced at me in gratitude. 
 
 "How everybody stared at me ! But little I cared ! 'Twas 
 that gave rise to Mr. Green's report. I thought of Percy 
 Singleton, and stopped him in the midst of a dance to bid him 
 run as fast as his legs would carry him to the Coffee House, 
 and to see that no harm befell you. 'I shall hold you respon- 
 sible for Richard,' I whispered. ' You must get him away from 
 Mr. Claude's, or I shall never speak to you again.' He did not 
 wait to ask questions, but Avent at once, like the good fellow 
 he is. Then I rode home with IMaria. I would not have 
 Mr. Carroll come with me, though he begged hard. Father 
 was in here, writing his brief. But I was all in pieces, Rich- 
 ard, and so shaken Avitli sobbing that I could tell him no more 
 than that you had gone to the Coffee House, w^here they meant 
 to draw you into a duel. He took me up to ni}^ own room, and 
 I heard him going out to wake Limbo to harness, and at last 
 heard him driving away in our coach. I hope I may never in 
 my life spend such another hour as I passed then."
 
 158 RICHAED CARVEL 
 
 The light in the sky had gone out. I looked up at the gin 
 before me as she stood gazing into the flame, her features in 
 strong relief, her lips parted, her hair red-gold, and the rounded 
 outlines of her figure softened. I wondered why I had never 
 before known her beauty. Perchance it was because, until 
 that night, I had never seen her heart. 
 
 I leaped to my feet and seized her hands. For a second she 
 looked at me, startled. Then she tore them away and ran 
 behind the dipping chair in the corner. 
 
 '^ Richard, Richard ! " she exclaimed. " Did Dorothy but 
 know ! " 
 
 " Dorothy is occupied with titles," I said. 
 
 Patty's lip quivered. And I knew, blundering fool that I 
 was, that I had hurt her. 
 
 "Oh, you wrong her!" she cried; "believe me when I say 
 that she loves you, and you only, Richard." 
 
 " Loves me ! " I retorted bitterly, — brutally, I fear. " No. 
 She may have once, long ago. But now her head is turned." 
 
 " She loves you now," answered Patty, earnestly ; " and I 
 think ever will, if you but deserve her." 
 
 And with that she went away, leaving me to stare after hei 
 in perplexity and consternation.
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 SOUTH RIVER 
 
 My grandfather's defection from St. Anne's called forth a 
 deal of comment in Annapolis. His Excellency came to re- 
 monstrate, but to no avail, and Mr. Carvel denounced the 
 rector in such terms that the Governor was glad to turn the 
 subject. My Uncle Grafton acted with such quickness and 
 force as would have served to lull the sharpest suspicions. 
 He forbid the rector his house, attended the curate's service, 
 and took Philip from his care. It was decided that both my 
 cousin and I Avere to go to King's College after Christmas. 
 Grafton's conduct greatly pleased my grandfather. " He has 
 behaved very loyally in this matter, Richard," he said to me. 
 *'I grow to reproach myself more every day for the injustice I 
 once did him. He is heaping coals of fire upon my old head. 
 But, faith ! I cannot stomach your Aunt Caroline. You do not 
 seem to like your uncle, lad." 
 
 I answered that I did not. 
 
 " It was ever the Carvel way not to forget," he went on. 
 "Nevertheless, Grafton hath your welfare at heart, I think. 
 His affection for you as his brother's son is great." 
 
 that I had spoken the words that burned my tongue ! 
 
 Christmas fell upon Monday of that year, 1769. There was 
 to be a ball at Upper Marlboro' on the Friday before, to which 
 many of us were invited. Though the morning came in with 
 a blinding snowstorm from the north, the first of that winter, 
 about ten of the clock we set out from Annapolis an exceeding 
 merry party, the ladies in four coaches-and-six, the gentlemen 
 and their servants riding at the wheels. We laughed and joked 
 despite the storm, and exchanged signals with the fair ones 
 behind the glasses. 
 
 159
 
 160 EICHAED CARVEL 
 
 But we had scarce got two miles beyond the town gate when 
 a messenger overtook us with a note for Mr. Carvel, writ upon 
 an odd slip of paper, and with great apparent hurry : — 
 
 "Honoured Sib, 
 
 '' I have but just come to Annapolis from New York, with 
 Instructions to put into your Hands, & no Others, a Message 
 of the greatest Import. Hearing you are but now set out for 
 Upper Marlboro I beg of you to return for half an Hour to 
 the Coffee House. By so doing you will be of service to a 
 Friend, and confer a Favour upon y'r most ob'd't Humble 
 Servant, 
 
 " Silas Ridgeway." 
 
 Our cavalcade had halted while I read, the ladies letting 
 down the glasses and leaning out in their concei-n lest some 
 trouble had befallen me or my grandfather. I answered them 
 and bade them ride on, vowing that I would overtake the 
 coaches before they reached the Patuxent. Then I turned 
 Cynthia's head for town, with Hugo at my heels. 
 
 Patty, leaning from the window of the last coach, called out 
 to me as I passed. I waved my hand in return, and did not 
 remember until long after the anxiety in her eyes. 
 
 As I rode, and I rode hard, I pondered over the words of 
 this letter. I knew not this Mr. Ridgeway from the Lord 
 Mayor of London ; but I came to the conclusion before I had 
 repassed the gate that his message was fi-om Captain Daniel. 
 And I greatly feared that some evil had befallen my good 
 friend. So I came to the Coffee House, and throwing my 
 bridle to Hugo, I ran in. 
 
 I found Mr. Ridgeway neither in the long room nor in the 
 billiard room nor the bar. Mr. Claude told me that indeed a 
 man had arrived that morning from the North, a spare person 
 with a hooked nose and scant hair, in a brown greatcoat with 
 a torn cape. He had gone forth afoot half an hour since. 
 His messenger, a negro lad whose face I knew, was in the 
 stables with Hugo. He had never seen the stranger till he 
 met him that morning in State House Circle inquiring for Mr.
 
 SOUTH RIVER 161 
 
 Carvel, and had been given a shilling to gallop after me. Im 
 patient as I was to be gone, I sat me down in the coffee room, 
 thinking every minute the man must return, and strongly 
 apprehensive that Captain Daniel must be in some grave pre- 
 dicament. That the favour he asked was of such a nature as 
 I, and not my grandfather, cotdd best fulfil. 
 
 At length, about a quarter after noon, my man comes in v/ith 
 Mr. Claude close behind him. I liked his looks less than his 
 description, and the moment I clapped eyes on him I knew 
 that Captain Daniel had never chose such a messenger. 
 
 <'This is Mr. Richard Carvel," said Mr. Claude. 
 
 The fellow made me a low bow, which I scarcely re- 
 turned. 
 
 "I am sure, sir," he began in a whining voice, "that I crave 
 your forbearance for this prodigious, stupid mistake I have 
 made." 
 
 " Mistake ! " I exclaimed hotly ; " you mean to say, sir, that 
 you have brought me back for nothing ? " 
 
 The man's eye shifted, and he made me another bow. 
 
 " I scarce know what to say, Mr. Carvel," he answered with 
 much humility; "to speak truth, 'twas zeal to my employers, 
 and methought to you, that caused you to retrace your steps in 
 this pestiferous storm. I travel," he proceeded with some im- 
 portance, " I travel for Messrs. Rinnell and Runn, Barristers of 
 the town of New York, and carry letters to men of mark all 
 over these middle and southern colonies. And my instructions, 
 sir, were to come to Annapolis with all reasonable speed with 
 this double-sealed enclosure for Mr. Carvel : and to deliver it 
 to him, and him only, the very moment I arrived. As I 
 came through your town I made inquiries, and was told b_v 
 a black fellow in the Circle that Mr. Carvel was but just left 
 for Upper Marlboro' with a cavalcade of four coaches-and-six 
 and some dozen gentlemen with their servants. I am sure my 
 mistake was pardonable, Mr. Carvel," he concluded with a 
 smirk ; " this gentleman was plainly of the first qualitj^, as 
 was he to whom I was directed. And as he was about to leave 
 town for I knew not how long, I hope I was in the right in 
 bidding the black ride after him, for I give you my word the 
 
 M
 
 162 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 business was most pressing for him. I crave your forgiveness, 
 and the pleasure of drinking your honour's health." 
 
 I barely heard the fellow through, and was turning on my 
 heel in disgust, when it struck me to ask him what Mr. Carvel 
 he sought, for I feared lest my grandfather had got into some 
 lawsuit. 
 
 " And it please your honour, Mr. Grafton Carvel," said he ; 
 " your uncle, I understand. Unfortunately he has gone to his 
 estate in Kent County, whither I must now follow him." 
 
 I bade Mr. Claude summon my servant, not stopping to 
 question the man further, such was my resentment against 
 him. And in ten minutes we were out of the town again, gal- 
 loping between the nearly filled tracks of the coaches, now 
 three hours ahead of us. The storm was increasing, and the 
 wind cutting, but I dug into Cynthia so that poor Hugo was 
 put to it to hold the pace, and, tho' he had a pint of rum in 
 him, was near perished with the cold. As my anger cooled 
 somewhat I began to wonder how Mr. Silas Ridgeway, who- 
 ever he was, could have been such a simpleton as his story 
 made him out. Indeed, he looked more the rogue than the ass ; 
 nor could I conceive how reliable barristers could hire such a 
 one. I wished heartily that I had exhausted him further, and 
 a suspicion crossed my brain that he might have come to Mr. 
 Allen, who had persuaded him to deliver a letter to Grafton 
 intended for m.e. Some foreboding beset me, and I was once 
 close to a full mind for going back, and slacked Cynthia's pace 
 to a trot. But the thought of the pleasures at Upper Marl- 
 boro' and the hope of overtaking the party at Mr. Dorsey's 
 place, over the Patuxent, where they looked to dine, decided 
 me in pushing on. And thus we came to South River, with the 
 snow so thick that we could scarce see ten yards in front 
 of us. 
 
 Beyond, the road winds up the hill around the end of Mr. 
 Wiley's plantation and plunges shortly into the woods, gray 
 and cold indeed to-day. At their skirt a trail branches off 
 which leads to Mr. Wiley's warehouses, on the water's edge a 
 mile or so below. And I marked that this path was freshly 
 trodden. I recall a small shock of surprise at this, for the way
 
 SOUTH RIVER 163 
 
 was used only in the early autumn to connect with some fields 
 beyond the hill. And then I heard a sharp cry from Hugo and 
 pulled Cynthia short. He was some ten paces behind me. 
 
 " Marse Dick ! " he shouted, the whites of his eyes rolled up. 
 " We'se gwine to be robbed, Marse Dick." And he pointed to 
 the footprints in the snow ; " somefin done tole Hugo not come 
 to-day." 
 
 " Nonsense ! " I cried; ''Mr. Wiley is making his lazy beggars 
 cut wood against Christmas." 
 
 When in this temper the poor fellow had more fear of me 
 than of aught else, and he closed up to my horse's flank, glanc- 
 ing apprehensively to the right and left, his teeth rattling. 
 We went at a brisk trot. We know not, indeed, how to account 
 for many things in this world, for with each beat of Cynthia's 
 feet I found myself repeating the words South River and Marl- 
 boro', and seeking in my mind a connection to something gone 
 before. Then, like a sudden gust of wind, comes to me that 
 strange talk between Grafton and the rector, overheard by old 
 Harvey in the stables at Carvel Hall. And Cynthia's ears 
 were pointing forward. 
 
 With a quick impulse I loosed the lower frogs of my coat, 
 for my sword was buckled beneath, and was reaching for one 
 of the brace of pistols in my saddle-bags. I had but released 
 them when Hugo cried out : " Gawd, Marse Dick, run for yo' 
 life ! " and I caught a glimpse of him flying down the road. As 
 I turned a shot rang out, Cynthia reared high with a rough brute 
 of a fellow clinging to her bridle. I sent my charge full into 
 his chest, and as he tumbled in the snow I dug my spurs to 
 the rowels. 
 
 What happened then is still a blurred picture in my brain. 
 I know that Cynthia was shot from under me before she had 
 taken her leap, and we fell heavily together. And I was 
 scarcely up again and my sword drawn, when the villains were 
 pressing me from all sides. I remember spitting but one, and 
 then I heard a great seafaring oath, the first word out of their 
 mouths, and I was felled from behind with a mighty blow.
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 THE "black moll" 
 
 I HAVE no intention, my dears, of dwelling upon that part of 
 my adventures which must be as painful to you as to me, the 
 very recollection of which, after all these years, suffices to 
 cause the blood within me to run cold. In my youth men 
 whose natures shrank not from encounter with their enemies 
 lacked not, I warrant you, a checkered experience. Those of 
 us who are wound the tightest go the farthest and strike the 
 hardest. Nor is it difficult for one, the last of wdiose life is 
 being recorded, to review the outspread roll of it, and trace the 
 unerring forces which have drawn for themselves. 
 
 Some, indeed, traverse this world weighing, before they par- 
 take, pleasure and business alike. But I am not sure, my 
 children, that they better themselves ; or that God, in His 
 all-wise judgment, prefers them to such as are guided by the 
 divine impulse with which He has endowed them. Far be it 
 from me to advise rashness or imprudence, as such ; nor do I 
 believe you will take me so. But I say unto you : do that 
 which is right, and let God, not man, be your interpreter. 
 
 My narrative awaits me. 
 
 I came to my wits with an immoderate feeling of faintness 
 and sickness, with no more remembrance of things past than 
 has a man bereft of reason. And for some time I swung 
 between sense and oblivion before an overpowering stench 
 forced itself upon my nostrils, accompanied by a creaking, 
 straining sound and sweeping motion. I could see nothing 
 for the pitchy blackness. Then I recalled what had befallen 
 me, and cried aloud to God in my anguish, for I well knew 
 
 164
 
 THE ''BLACK MOLL" 165 
 
 I had been carried aboard ship, and was at sea. I had often- 
 times heard of the rfotorious press-gang which supplied the 
 need of the King's navy, and my first thought was that I had 
 fallen in their clutches. But I wondered that they had dared 
 attack a person of my consequence. 
 
 •I had no pain. I lay in a bunk that felt gritty and greasy 
 to the touch, and my hair was matted behind by a clot of 
 blood. I had been stripped of my clothes, and put into some 
 coarse and rough material, the colour and condition of which I 
 could not see for want of light. I began to cast about me, to 
 examine the size of the bunk, which I found to be narrow, and 
 plainly at some distance from the deck, for I laid hold upon 
 one of the rough beams above me. By its curvature I knew 
 it to be a knee, and thus I came to the caulked sides of the 
 vessel, and for the first time heard the rattling thud and swish 
 of water on the far side of it. I had no sooner made this dis- 
 covery, which drew from me an involuntary groan, when a 
 ship's lanthorn was of a sudden thrust over me, and I perceived 
 behind it a head covered with shaggy hair and beard, and 
 beetling brows. Never had I been in such a terrifying 
 presence. 
 
 " Damn my blood and bones, life signals at last ! Another 
 three bells gone, my silks and laces, and we had given you to 
 the sharks." 
 
 The man hung his lanthorn to a hook on the beam, and thrust 
 a case-bottle of rum toward me, at the same time biting off a 
 great quid of tobacco. For all my alarm I saw that his manner 
 was not unkindly, and as I was conscious of a consuming thirst 
 I seized and tipped it eagerly. 
 
 '^ 'Tis no fine Madeira, my blood," said he, " such as I fancy 
 your palate is acquainted with. Yet 'tis as fair a Jamaica as 
 ever Griggs put ashore i' the dark." 
 
 " Griggs ! " I cried, the whole affair coming to me : Griggs, 
 Upper Marlboro'', South River, Grafton and the rector plotting 
 in the stalls, and Mr. Silas Ridgeway the accomplice. 
 
 " Ay, Griggs," replied he ; " ye may well repeat it, the . 
 
 I'll lay a puncheon he'll be hailing you shortly. Guinea 
 Griggs, Gold-Coast Griggs, Smuggler Griggs, Skull-and-Bones
 
 166 EICHAED CAEVEL 
 
 Griggs. Damn his soul and eyes, lie liath sent to damnation 
 many a ship's company." 
 
 He drained what remained of the bottle, took down the Ian- 
 thorn, and left me sufficiently terrified to reflect upon my situa- 
 tion, which I found desperate enougli, my dears. I have no 
 words to describe what I went through in that vile, foul-smelliilg 
 place. My tears flowed fast when I thought of my grandfather 
 and of the dear friends I had left behind, and of Dorothy, v/hom 
 I never hoped to see again. And then, perchance 'twas the 
 rum put heart into me, I vowed I would face the matter : 
 show this cut-throat of a Griggs a bold front. Had he meant 
 to murder me, I reflected, he had done the business long since. 
 Then I fell asleep. 
 
 I awoke, I know not how soon, to discover the same shaggy 
 countenance, and the lanthorn. 
 
 " Canst walk, Mechlin ? " says he. 
 
 " I can try, at least," I answered. 
 
 He seemed pleased at this. 
 
 " You have courage a-plenty, and, by G — , you will have 
 
 need of it all with that of a Griggs ! " He gave me his 
 
 bottle again, and assisted me down, and I found that my legs, 
 save for the rocking of the ship, were steady enough. I fol- 
 lowed him out of the hole in which I had lain on to a deck, 
 which, in the half light, I saw covered with slush and filth. 
 It was small, and but dimly illuminated by a hatchway, up 
 the which I pushed after him, and then another. And so we 
 came to the light of day, which near blinded me : so that I 
 was fain to clap my hand to mine eyes, and stood for a space 
 looking about me like a man dazed. The wind, tho' blowing 
 stiff, was mild, and league after league of the green sea danced 
 and foamed in the morning sunlight, and I perceived that I was 
 on a large schooner under full sail, the crew of which were lit- 
 tered about at different occupations. Some gaming and some 
 drinking, while on the forecastle two men were settling a dispute 
 at fisticuffs. And they gave me no more notice, nor as much, 
 than I had been a baboon thrust among them. From this in- 
 difference to a captive I augured no good. Then my con- 
 ductor, whom I rightly judged to be the mate of this devil's
 
 THE "BLACK MOLL" 167 
 
 crew, took me roughly by the shoulder and bade me accom 
 pany him to the cabin. 
 
 As we drew near the topgallant poop there sounded in my 
 ears a noise like a tempest, which I soon became aware was a 
 man swearing with a prodigious vehemence in a fog-horn of a 
 voice. "'Sdeath and wounds! Where is that dog-fish of 
 a Cockle ? Damn his entrails, and he is not come soon, I'll 
 mast-head him naked, by the seven holy spritsails!" And 
 much more and worse to the same tune until we passed the 
 door and stood before him, when he let out an oath like the 
 death-cry of a monster. 
 
 He was a short, lean man with a leathery face and long, black 
 ropy hair, and beady black eyes that caught the light like a 
 cat's. His looks, indeed, would have scared a timid person into 
 a fit; but I resolved I would die rather than show the fear with 
 which he inspired me. He was dressed in an old navy uniform 
 with dirty lace. His cabin was bare enough, being scattered 
 about with pistols and muskets and cutlasses, with a ragged 
 pallet in one corner, and he sat behind an oaken table covered 
 with greasy charts and spilled liquor and tobacco. 
 
 " So ho, you are risen from the dead, are you, my fine buck ? 
 Mr. What-do-they-call-you ? " cried the captain, with a word as 
 loul as any he had yet uttered. " By the Lord, you shall pay 
 for running my bo'sun through ! " 
 
 "And by the Lord, Captain What's-your-name," I cried back, 
 for the rum I had taken had heated me, "you and your fellow- 
 rascals shall pay in blood for this villanous injury !" 
 
 Griggs got to his feet and seized his hanger, his face like livid 
 marble seamed with blue. And from force of habit I made 
 motion for my sword, to make the shameful discovery that I 
 was clothed from head to foot in linsey-woolsey. 
 
 "G — d — my soul," he roared, "if I don't slit you like a her- 
 ring! The devil burn me to a cinder if I don't give your guts to 
 the sharks ! " And he made at me in such a fury that I would 
 certainly have been cut to pieces had I not grasped a cutlass 
 and parried his blow, Cockle looking on with his jaw dropped 
 like a peak without haulyards. With a stroke of my weapon 
 I disarmed Captain Griggs, his sword flying through the
 
 168 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 cabin window. For I made up my mind I would better die 
 fighting than expire at a hideous torture, which I doubted not 
 he would inflict, and so I took up a posture of defence, with 
 one eye on the mate; despite the kind offices of the latter be- 
 low I knew not whether he were disposed to befriend me before 
 the captain. What was my astonishment, therefore, to behold 
 Griggs's truculent manner change. 
 
 "Avast, my man-o-war," he cried; "blood and wounds! 1 
 had more than an eye when they brought thee aboard, else I 
 would have killed thee like a sucking-pig under the forecastle, 
 as I have given oath to do. By the Ghost, you are worth seven 
 of that Roger Spratt whom you sent to hell in his boots." 
 
 Wherewith Cockle, who for all his terrible appearance stood 
 in a mighty awe of his captain, set up a loud laugh, and voAved 
 that Griggs knew a man when he spared me, and was cursed 
 for his pains. 
 
 " So you were contracted to murder me. Captain Griggs ? " 
 said I. 
 
 "Ay," he replied, a devilish gleam coming into his eye, "but 
 I have now got you and the money to boot. But harkye, I'll 
 stand by my half of the bargain, by G — . If ever you reach 
 Maryland alive, they may hang me to the yardarm of a ship- 
 of-the-line." 
 
 And I live long enough, my dears, I hope some day to write 
 for you the account of all that befell me on this slaver, Black 
 Moll, for so she was called. 'Twould but delay my story now. 
 Suffice it to say that we sailed for a fortnight or so in the West 
 India seas. From some observations that fell from the mouth 
 of Griggs I gathered that he was s'earching for an island which 
 evaded him ; and each day added to his vexation at not finding 
 it. At times he was drunk for forty hours at a stretch, when 
 he would shut himself in his cabin and leave his ship to the 
 care of Cockle, who navigated with the sober poi-tion of the 
 crew. And such a lousy, brawling lot of convicts I had never 
 clapped eyes upon. As for me, I was treated indifferently 
 well, though 'twas in truth punishment enough to live in that 
 filthy ship, to eat their shins of beef and briny pork and wormy
 
 THE "BLACK MOLL" 169 
 
 biscuit, to wear rough clothes that chafed my skin. I shared 
 Cockle's cabin, in every way as dirty a place as the den I had 
 left, but with the advantage of air, for which- I fervently 
 thanked God. 
 
 I think the mate had some little friendship for me, though 
 he was too hardened by the life he had led to care a deal what 
 became of me. He encouraged me secretly to continue to 
 beard Griggs as I had begun, saying that it was my sole chance 
 of a whole skin, and vowing that if he had had the courage to 
 pursue the same course his own back had not been checkered 
 like a grating. He told me stories of the captain's cruelty 
 which I dare not repeat for their very horror, and indeed I 
 lacked not for instances to substantiate what he said ; men 
 with their backs beaten to a pulp, and others with ears cut off, 
 and mouths slit, and toes missing. So that I lived in hourly 
 fear lest in some drunkeh fit Griggs might command me to be 
 tortured. But, fortunately, he held small converse with me, 
 and when sober busied himself in trying to find the island and 
 m cursing the fate by which it eluded him. 
 
 So I existed, and prayed daily for deliverance. I plied 
 Cockle with questions as to what they purposed doing with 
 me, but he was wont to turn sulky, and would answer me not 
 a word. But once, when he was deeper in his cups than com- 
 mon, he let me know that Griggs was to sell me to a certain 
 planter. You may well believe that this did not serve to liven 
 my spirits. 
 
 At length, one morning, Captain Griggs came out of his 
 cabin and climbed upon the poop, calling all hands aft to the 
 quarterdeck. Whereupon he proceeded to make them a speech 
 that for vileness exceeded aught I have ever heard before or 
 since. He finished by reminding them that this was the anni- 
 versary of the scuttling of the sloop Jayie, which had made 
 them all rich a year before, off the Canaries ; the day that he 
 had sent three and twenty men over the plank to hell. Where- 
 fore he decreed a holiday, as the weather was bright and the 
 trades light, and would serve quadruple portions of rum to 
 every man jack aboard ; and they set up a cheer that started 
 the Mother Careys astern.
 
 170 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 I have no language to depict the bestiality of that day ; and 
 if I had I would think it sin to write of it. The helm was 
 lashed on the port tack, the haulyards set taut, and all hands 
 down to the lad who was the cook's scullion proceeded to get 
 drunk. I took the precaution to have a hanger at my side and 
 to slip one of Cockle's pistols within the band of my breeches. 
 I was in an exquisite agony of indecision as to what manner 
 to act and how to defend myself from their drunken brutality, 
 for I well knew that if I refused to imbibe with them I should 
 probably be murdered for my abstemiousness; and, if I drank, 
 the stuff was so near to alcohol that I could not hope to keep 
 my senses. While in this predicament I received a polite 
 invitation to partake in the captain's company, which I did 
 not see my way clear to refuse, and repaired to the cabin 
 accordingly. 
 
 There I found Griggs and Cockle seated, and a fair-sized 
 barrel of rum between them that the captain had just moved 
 thither. By way of welcome he shot at me a volley of curses 
 and bade me to fill up, and through fear of offending him I 
 took down my first mug with a fair good grace. Then, in his 
 own particular language, he began the account of the capture 
 of the Jane, taking care in the pauses to see that my mug was 
 full. But, as luck would have it, he got no farther than the 
 boarding by the Black 3IolVs crew, when he fell to squabbling 
 with Cockle as to who had been the first man over the side ; 
 and while they were settling this difference I grasped the 
 opportunity to escape. 
 
 The maudlin scene that met my eyes on deck defies descrip 
 tion; some were fighting, others grinning with a hideous laugh- 
 ter, and still others shouting tavern jokes unspeakable. And 
 suddenly, whilst I was observing these things from a niche 
 behind the cabin door, I heard the captain cry from within, 
 " The ensign, the ensign ! " Forgetting his dispute with Cockle, 
 he bumped past me and made his way with some trouble to 
 the poop. I climbed the ladder after him, and to my horror 
 beheld him in a drunken frenzy drag a black fiag with a rudely 
 painted skull and cross-bones from the signal-chest, and with 
 uncertain fingers toggle it to the ensign haulyards and hoist to
 
 THE "BLACK MOLL" 173 
 
 the peak, where it fluttered grimly in the light wind like an 
 evil augur on a fair day. At sight of it the wretches on deck 
 fell to shouting and huzzaing, Griggs standing leering up at it. 
 Then he gravely pulled off his hat and made it a bow, and 
 turned upon me. 
 
 "Salute it, ye lubberly ! Ye are no first-rate here," he 
 
 thundered. " Salute the flag ! " 
 
 Unless fear had kept me sober, 'tis past my understanding 
 why I was not as drunk as he. Be that as it may, I was near 
 as quarrelsome, and would as soon have worshipped the golden 
 calf as saluted that rag. I flung back some reply, and he 
 lugged out and came at me with a spring like a wild beast ; 
 and his men below, seeing us fall out, made a rush for the 
 poop with knives and cutlasses drawn. Betwixt them all I 
 should soon have been in slivers had not the main shrouds of- 
 fered themselves handy. And up them I sprung, the captain 
 cutting at my legs as I left the sheer-pole, and I stopped not 
 until I reached the schooner'-s cross-trees, where I drew my cut- 
 lass. They pranced around the mast and showered me with 
 oaths, for all the world like a lot of howling dogs which had 
 treed a cat. 
 
 I began to feel somewhat easier, and cried aloud that the 
 first of them who came up after me would go down again in two 
 pieces. Despite my warning a brace essayed to climb the rat- 
 lines, as pitiable an attempt as ever I witnessed, and fell to the 
 deck again. 'Twas a miracle that they missed falling into the 
 sea. And after a while, becoming convinced that they could 
 not get at me, and being too far gone to shoot with any accu- 
 racy, they tumbled off the poop swearing to serve me in a hun- 
 dred horrible ways when they caught me, and fell again to 
 drinking and quarrelling amongst themselves. I was indeed in 
 an unenviable plight, by no means sure that I would not be 
 slain out of hand when they became sufiiciently sober to cap- 
 ture me. As I marked the progress of their damnable orgy I 
 cast about for some plan to take advantage of their condition. 
 I observed that a stupor was already beginning to overcome 
 a few of them. Then suddenly an incident happened to drive 
 all else from my mind.
 
 172 KICHARD CARVEL 
 
 Nothing less, my dears, than a white speck of sail gleaming 
 on the southern horizon ! 
 
 For an hour I watched it, now in a shiver of apprehension 
 lest it pass us by, now weeping in an ecstasy of joy over a pos- 
 sible deliverance. But it grew steadily larger, and when about 
 three miles on our port bow I saw that the ship was a brigan- 
 tine. Though she had long been in sight from our deck, 'twas 
 not until now that she was made out by a man on the forecastle, 
 who set up a cry that brought about him all who could reel 
 thither, Griggs staggering out of his cabin and to the nettings. 
 The sight sobered him somewhat, for he immediately shouted 
 orders to cast loose the guns, himself tearing the breeching 
 from the nine-pounder next him and taking out the tompion. 
 About half the crew were in a liquorish stupor from which 
 the trump itself could scarce have aroused them ; the rest 
 responded with savage oaths, swore that they would boil their 
 suppers in the blood of the brigantine's men and give their 
 corpses to the sea. They fell to ■ work on the port battery in 
 so ludicrous a manner that I was fain to laugh despite the 
 gravity of the situation. But when they came to rig the 
 powder-hoist and a couple of them descended into the maga- 
 zine with pipes lighted, I was in imminent expectation of be- 
 ing blown as high as a kite. 
 
 So absorbed had I been in these preparations that I neg- 
 lected to watch the bvigantine, which I discovered to be stand- 
 ing on and off in a very undecided manner, as though hesitating 
 to attack. My spirits fell again at this, for with all my inexpe- 
 rience I knew her to be a better sailer than the Black 3Ioll. 
 Her master, as Griggs remarked, "was no d — d slouching lub- 
 ber, and knew a yardarm from a rattan cane." 
 
 Finally, about six bells of the watch, the stranger wore ship 
 and bore down across our bows, hoisting English colours, at 
 sight of which I could scarce forbear a cheer. At this instant. 
 Captain Griggs woke to the fact that his helm was still lashed, 
 and bestowing a hearty kick on his prostrate quartermaster 
 stuck fast to the pitchy seams of the deck, took the wheel him- 
 self, and easing of£ before the wind to bring the vessels broad- 
 side to broadside, commanded that the guns be shotted to the
 
 THE "BLACK MOLL" 173 
 
 muzzle, an order that was barely executed before the brigan- 
 tine came within close range. Aboard her was all order and 
 readiness ; the men at her guns fuse in hand, an erect and 
 pompous figure of a man, in a cocked hat, on the break of her 
 poop. He raised his hand, two puffs of Avhite smoke darted 
 out, and I heard first the shrieking of shot, the broadside came 
 crashing round us, one tearing through the mainsail below me, 
 another mangling two men in the waist of our schooner, and 
 Griggs gave the order to touch off. But two of his guns 
 answered, one of which had been so gorged Avith shot that it 
 burst in a hundred pieces and sent the fellow with the swab 
 to perdition, and such a hell of blood and confusion as resulted 
 is indescribable. I saw Griggs in a wild fit of rage force the 
 helm down, the schooner flying into the wind. And by this 
 time, the brigantine having got round and presented her port 
 battery, raked us at a bare hundred yards, and I was the first 
 to guess by the tilting forward of the mast that our hull was 
 hit between wind and water, and was fast settling by the bow 
 
 The schooner was sinking like a gallipot. 
 
 That day, with the sea flashing blue and white in the sun, I 
 saw men go to death with a curse upon their lips and a fever 
 in their eyes, with murder and defiance of God's holy will in 
 their hearts. Overtaken in bestiality, like the judgment of 
 Nineveh, five and twenty disappeared from beneath me, and I 
 had scarce the time to throw off my cutlass before 1, too, wag 
 engulfed. So expired the Black Moll.
 
 CHAPTER XrX 
 
 A MAN OF DESTINY 
 
 I WAS picked up and thrown into the brigantine's long-boat 
 with a head and stomach full of salt water, and a heart as 
 light as spray with the joy of it all. A big, red-bearded man 
 lifted my heels to drain me, 
 
 " The mon's deid," said he. 
 
 " Dead ! " cried I, from the bottom-board. " No more dead 
 than you ! " 
 
 I turned over so lustily that he dropped my feet, and I sat 
 up, something to his consternation. And they had scarce 
 hooked the ship's side when I sprang up the sea-ladder, to the 
 great gaping of the boat's crew, and stood with the water run- 
 ning off me in rivulets before the captain himself. I shall 
 never forget the look of his face as he regarded my sorr}'- figure. 
 
 " Now by Saint Andrew," exclaimed he, " are ye kelpie or 
 pirate ? " 
 
 ''Neither, captain," I replied, smiling as the comical end of 
 it came up to me, " but a young gentleman in misfortune." 
 
 " Hoots ! " says he, frowning at the grinning half-circle 
 about us, "it's daft ye are — " 
 
 But there he paused, and took of me a second sizing. How 
 he got at my birth behind my tangled mat of hair and wring- 
 ing linsey-woolsey I know not to this day. But he dropped 
 his Scotch and merchant-captain's manner, and was suddenly a 
 French courtier, making me a bow that had done credit to 
 a Richelieu. 
 
 " Your servant, Mr. — " 
 
 " Richard Carvel, of Carvel Hall, in his Majesty's province 
 of Maryland." • 
 
 174
 
 -r**-^ 
 
 <.-?,. 
 
 
 AkK VK KEI.riE OR IMKATE ? "
 
 \
 
 A MAN OF DESTINY 175 
 
 He seemed sufficiently impressed. 
 
 "Your very humble servant, Mr. Carvel. 'Tis in faith a 
 privilege to be able to serve a gentleman." 
 
 He bowed me toward his cabin, and then in sharp, quick 
 tones he gave an order to his mate to get under way, and I 
 saw the men turning to the braces with wonder in their eyes. 
 My own astonishment was as great. And so, with my clothes 
 sucking to my body and a trail of water behind me like that 
 of a wet walrus, I accompanied the captain aft. His quarters 
 were indeed a contrast to those of Griggs, being so neat that I 
 paused at the door for fear of profaning them; but was so 
 courteously bid to enter that I came on again. He summoned 
 a boy from the round house. 
 
 " William," said he, " a bottle of my French brandy. And 
 my compliments to Mr. MacMuir, and ask him for a suit of 
 clothes. You are a larger man than I, Mr. Carvel," he said to 
 me, " or I would fit you out according to your station." 
 
 I was too overwhelmed to speak. He poured out a liberal 
 three fingers of brandy, and pledged me as handsomely as I 
 had been an admiral come thither in mine own barge, instead 
 of a ragged lad picked off a piratical slaver, with nothing save 
 my bare word and address. 'Twas then I had space to note 
 him more particularly. His skin was the rich colour of a well- 
 seasoned ship's bell, and he was of the middle height, owned a 
 slight, graceful figure, tapering down at the waist like a top, 
 which had set off a silk coat to perfection and soured the 
 beaus with envy. His movements, however, had all the de- 
 cision of a man of action and of force. But his eye it was 
 took possession of me — an unfathomable, dark eye, which bore 
 more toward melancholy than sternness, and yet had some- 
 thing of both. He wore a clean, rufiled shirt, an exceeding 
 neat coat and breeches of blue broadcloth, with plate burnished 
 buttons, and white cotton stockings. Truly, this was a person 
 to make one look twice, and think oftener. Then, as I went 
 to pledge him, I, too, was caught for his name. 
 
 " Paul," said he ; " John Paul, of the brigantine John, of 
 Kirkcudbright, in the West India trade." 
 
 " Captain Paul — "I began. But my gratitude stuck fast
 
 176 EICHARD CARVEL 
 
 in my throat and flowed out of my eyes. For the thought ol 
 the horrors from which he had saved me for the first time 
 swept over me; his own kind treatment overcame me, and I 
 blubbered like a child. With that he turned his back. 
 
 " Hoots," says he, again, " dinna ye thank me. 'Tis naeth- 
 ing to scuttle a nest of vermin, but the duty of ilka man who 
 sails the seas." By this, having got the better of his emotion, 
 he added : " And if it has been my good fortune to save a gen- 
 tleman, Mr. Carvel, I thank God for it, as you must." 
 
 Save for a slackness inside the leg and in the hips, Mac- 
 Muir's clothes titted me well enough, and presently I reappeared 
 in the captain's cabin rigged out in the mate's shore suit of 
 purplish drab, and brass-buckled shoes that came high over 
 the instep, with my hair combed clear and tied with a ribbon 
 behind. I felt at last that I might lay some claim to respect- 
 ability. And what was my surprise to find Captain Paul 
 buried to his middle in a great chest, and the place strewn 
 about with laced and broidered coats and waistcoats, frocks 
 and Newmarkets, like any tailor's shop in Church Street. So 
 strange they looked in those tropical seas that he was near to 
 catching me in a laugh as he straightened up. 'Twas then I 
 noted that he was a younger man than I had taken him for. 
 
 "You gentlemen from the southern colonies are too well 
 nourished, by far," says he ; " you are apt to be large of chest 
 and limb. 'Odds bods, Mr. Carvel, it grieves me to see you 
 apparelled like a barber surgeon. If the good Lord had but 
 made you smaller, now," and he sighed, " how well this sky- 
 blue frock had set you off." 
 
 " Indeed, I am content, and more, captain," I replied with a 
 smile, "and thankful to be safe amongst friends. Never, I 
 assure you, have I had less desire for finery." 
 
 " Ay," said he, " you may well say that, you who have worn 
 silk all your life, and will the rest of it, and we get safe to 
 port. But believe me, sir, the pleasure of seeing one of your 
 face and figure in such a coat as that would not be a small 
 one." 
 
 And disregarding my blushes and protests, he held up the 
 watchet blue frock against me, and it was near fitting me but
 
 A MAN OF DESTINY 17'/ 
 
 for my breadth, — the skirts being prodigiously long. I won- 
 dered mightily what tailor had thrust this garment upon him ; 
 its fashion was of the old king's time, the cuffs slashed like a 
 sea-officer's uniform, and the shoulders made carefully round. 
 But other thoughts were running within me then. 
 
 "Captain," I cut in, "you are sailing eastward." 
 
 "Yes, yes," he answered absently, fingering some Point 
 d'Espagne. 
 
 " There is no chance of touching in the colonies ? " I per- 
 sisted. 
 
 "Colonies! No," said he, in the same abstraction; "I am 
 making for the Solway, being long overdue. But what think 
 you of this, Mr. Carvel ? " 
 
 And he held up a wondrous vellum-hole waistcoat of a 
 gone-by vintage, and I saw how futile it were to attempt to 
 lead him, while in that state of absorption, to topicb which 
 touched my affair. Of a sudden the significance of what he 
 had said crept over me, the word Solway repeating itself in 
 my mind. That firth bordered England itself, and Dorothy 
 was in London ! I became reconciled. I had no particle ot 
 objection to the Solway save the uneasiness my grandfather 
 would come through, which was beyond helping. Fate had 
 ordered things well. 
 
 Then I fell to applauding, while the captain tried on (for 
 he was not content with holding up) another frock of white 
 drab, which, cuffs and pockets, I'll take my oath mounted no 
 less than twenty-four: another j)lain one of pink cut-velvet; 
 tail-coats of silk, heavily broidered Avith flowers, and satin 
 waistcoats with narrow lace. He took an inconceivable enjoy- 
 ment out of this parade, discoursing the while, like a nobleman 
 with nothing but dress in his head, or, perhaps, like a master- 
 cutter, about the turn of this or that lapel, the length from 
 armpit to fold, and the number of button-holes that was 
 proper. And finally he exhibited with evident pride a pair 
 of doeskins that buttoned over the calf to be worn with high 
 shoes, which I make sure he would have tried on likewise had 
 he been oifered the slightest encouragement. So he exploited 
 the whole of his wardrobe, such an unlucky assortment of
 
 178 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 finery as I never wish to see again; all of which, however, 
 became him marvellously, though I think he had looked well 
 in anything. I hope I may be forgiven the perjury I did that 
 day. I wondered greatly that such a foible should crop out in 
 a man of otherwise sound sense and plain ability. 
 
 At length, when the last chest was shut again and locked, 
 and I had exhausted my ingenuity at commendation, and my 
 patience also, he turned to me as a man come out of a trance. 
 
 " Od's fish, Mr. Carvel," he cried, '' you will be starved. I 
 had forgot your state." 
 
 I owned that hunger had nigh overcome me, whereupon he 
 Decame very solicitous, bade the boy bring in supper at once, 
 and in a short time we sat down together to the best meal I 
 had seen for a month. It seemed like a year. Porridge, and 
 bacon nicely done, and duff and ale, with the sea rushing past 
 the cabin windows as we ate, touched into colour by the setting 
 sun. Captain Paul did not mess with his mates, not he, and 
 he gave me to understand that I was to share his cabin, apolo- 
 gizing profusely for what he was pleased to call poor fare. He 
 would have it that he, and not I, were receiving favour. 
 
 "My dear sir," he said once, "you cannot know what a bit 
 of finery is to me, who has so little chance for the wearing of 
 it. To discuss with a gentleman, a connoisseur (I know a bit of 
 French, Mr. Carvel), is a pleasure I do not often come at." 
 
 His simplicity in this touched me ; it was pathetic. 
 
 "How know you I am a gentleman. Captain Paul?" I 
 asked curiously. 
 
 " I should lack discernment, sir," he retorted, with some 
 heat, " if I could not see as much. Breeding shines through 
 sack-cloth, sir. Besides," he continued, in a milder tone, " the 
 look of you is candour itself. Though I have not greatly the 
 advantage of you in age, I have seen many men, and I know 
 that such a face as yours cannot lie." 
 
 Here Mr. Lowrie, the second mate, came in with a report; 
 and I remarked that he stood up hat in hand whilst making 
 it, very much as if Captain Paul commanded a frigate. The 
 captain went to a locker and brought forth some mellow 
 Madeira, and after the mate had taken a glass of it standing,
 
 A MAN OF DESTINY 179 
 
 he withdrew. Then we lighted pipes and sat very cosey with 
 a lanthorn swung between us, and Captain Paul expressed a 
 wish to hear my story. 
 
 I gave him my early history briefly, dwelling but casually 
 upon the position enjoyed in Maryland by my family ; but I 
 spoke of my grandfather, now turning seventy, gray-haired in 
 the service of King and province. The captain was indeed a 
 most sympathetic listener, now throwing in a question showing 
 keen Scotch penetration, and anon making a most ludicrous 
 inquiry as to the dress livery our footmen wore, and whether 
 Mr. Carvel used outriders when he travelled abroad. This 
 was the other side of the man. As the wine warmed and the 
 pipe soothed, I spoke at length of Grafton and the rector ; 
 and when I came to the wretched contrivance by which they 
 got me aboard the Black Moll, he was stalking hither and 
 thither about the cabin, his fists clenched and his voice thick, 
 breaking into Scotch again and vowing that hell Avere too good 
 for such as they. 
 
 His indignation, which seemed real and generous, trans- 
 formed him into another man. He showered question after 
 question upon me concerning my uncle and Mr. Allen ; de- 
 clared that he had known many villains, but had yet to hear 
 of their equals ; and finally, cooling a little, gave it as his 
 judgment that the crime could never be brought home to 
 them. This was my own opinion. He advised me, before we 
 turned in, to " gie the parson a crunt " as soon as ever I could 
 lay hands upon him. 
 
 The John made a good voyage for that season, with fair 
 winds and clear skies for the most part. 'Twas a stout ship 
 and a steady, with generoua breadth of beam, and kept by the 
 master as clean and bright as his porringer. He was Emperor 
 aboard her. He spelt Command with a large C, and when he 
 inspected, his jacks stood to attention like man-o'-war's men. 
 The John mounting only four guns, and but two of them nine- 
 pounders, I expressed my astonishment that he had dared 
 attack a pirate craft like the Black Moll, without knowing her 
 condition and armament.
 
 180 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 " Richard," says he, impressively, for we had become very 
 friendly, " I would close with a thirty-two and she flew that 
 flag. Why, sir, a bold front is half the battle, using circum- 
 spection, of a course. A pretty woman, whatever her airs and 
 quality, is to be carried the same way, and a man ought never 
 to be frightened by appearances." 
 
 Sometimes, at our meals, we discussed politics. But he 
 seemed lukewarm upon this subject. He had told me that he 
 had a brother William in Virginia, who was a hot Patriot. 
 The American quarrel seemed to interest him very little. I 
 should like to underscore this last sentence, my dears, in view 
 of what comes after. What he said on the topic leaned per- 
 haps to the King's side, tho' he was careful to say nothing that 
 would give me offence. I was not surprised, for I had made a 
 fair guess of his ambitions. It is only honest to declare that 
 in my soberer moments my estimate of his character suffered. 
 But he was a strange man, — a genius, as I soon discovered, to 
 rouse the most sluggish nature to enthusiasm. 
 
 The joy of sailing is born into some men, and those who are 
 marked for the sea go down thither like the very streams, to 
 be salted. AVhatever the sign, old Stanwix was not far wrong 
 when he read it upon me, and 'twas no great while before I 
 was part and parcel of the ship beneath my feet, breathing 
 deep with her every motion. What feeling can compare with 
 that I tasted when the brigantine lay on her side, the silver 
 spray hurling over the bulwarks and stinging me to life ! Or, 
 in the watches, to hear the sea lashing along her strakes in 
 never ending music ! I gave MacMuir his shore suit again, 
 and hugely delighted and astonished Captain Paul by donning 
 a jacket of Scotch wool and a pair of seaman's boots, and so 
 became a sailor myself. I had no mind to sit idle the passage, 
 and the love of it, as I have said, was in me. In a fortnight I 
 went aloft with the best of the watch to reef topsails, and trod 
 a foot-rope without losing head or balance, bent an earing, 
 and could lay hand on any lift, brace, sheet, or haulyards in 
 the racks. John Paul himself taught me to tack and wear 
 ship, and MacMuir to stow a headsail. The craft came to me, 
 as it were, in a hand-gallop.
 
 A MAN OF DESTINY 181 
 
 At first I could make nothing of the crew, not being able to 
 understand a word of their Scotch ; but I remarked, from the 
 first, that they were sour and sulky, and given to gathering in 
 knots when the captain or MacMuir had not the deck. For 
 Mr. Lowrie, poor man, they had little respect. But they 
 plainly feared the first mate, and John Paul most of all. Of 
 me their suspicion knew no bounds, and they would give me 
 gruif answers, or none, when I spoke to them. These things 
 roused both curiosity and foreboding within me. 
 
 Many a watch I paced thro' with MacMuir, big and red and 
 kindly, and I was not long in letting him know of the interest 
 which Captain Paul had inspired within me. His own feeling 
 for him was little short of idolatry. I had surmised much as 
 to the rank of life from which the captain had sprung, but my 
 astonishment was great when I was told that John Paul was 
 the son of a poor gardener. 
 
 "A gardener's son, Mr. MacMuir ! " I repeated. 
 
 " Just that," said he, solemnly, " a guid man an' haly was 
 auld Paul. Unco puir, by reason o' seven bairns. I kennt 
 the daddie weel. I raak sma' doubt the captaiu'll tak ye 
 hanie wi' him, syne the mither an' sisters still be i' the cot 
 i' Mr. Craik's croft." 
 
 "Tell me, MacMuir," said I, "is not the captain in some 
 trouble ? " 
 
 For I knew that something, whatever it was, hung heavy on 
 John Paul's mind as we drew nearer Scotland. At times his 
 brow would cloud and he would fall silent in the midst of a 
 jest. And that night, with the .stars jumping and the air 
 biting cold (for we were up in the 40's), and the John wish- 
 washing through the seas at three leagues the hour, MacMuir 
 told me the story of Mungo IMaxAvell. You may read it for 
 yourselves, my dears, in the life of John Paul Jones. 
 
 " V/ae's me ! " he said, with a heave of his big chest, " I reca' 
 as yestreen the night Maxwell cam aboord. The sun gaed 
 doon a' bluidy, an' belyve the morn rose unco mirk an' dreary, 
 wi' bullers^ frae the west like muckle sowthers^ wi' white 
 plumes. I tauld the captain 'twas a' the faut o' Maxwell. I 
 1 Rollers. - Soldiers.
 
 182 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 ue'er cad bide the blellum.^ Dour an' din ^ he was, wi' ae girn 
 like th' auld hornie.^ But the captain wadna hark to my rede 
 when I tauld liiin naught but dool * wad coom o' taking Mungo." 
 
 It seemed that John Paul, contrary to MacMuir's advice, had 
 shipped as carpenter on the voyage out — near seven months 
 since — a man by the name of Mungo Maxwell. The captain's 
 motive had nothing in it but kindness, and a laudable desire 
 to do a good turn to a playmate of his boyhood. As MacMuir 
 said, "they had gaed barefit thegither amang the braes." The 
 man hailed from Kirkbean, John Paul's own parish. But he 
 had within him little of the milk of kindness, being in truth 
 a sour and mutinous devil; and instead of the gratitude he 
 might have shown, he cursed the fate that had placed him 
 under the gardener's son, whom he deemed no better than 
 himself. The John had scarce cleared the Solway before 
 Maxwell showed signs of impudence and rebellion. 
 
 The crew was three-fourths made of Kirkcudbright men who 
 had known the master from childhood, many of them, indeed, 
 being older than he ; they were mostly jealous of Paul, envious 
 of the command he had attained to over them, and impatient 
 under the discipline he was ever ready to inflict. 'Tis no light 
 task to enforce obedience from those with whom one has bird- 
 nested. But, having more than once felt the weight of his 
 hand, they feared him. 
 
 Dissatisfaction among such spreads apace, if a leader is but 
 given; and Maxwell was such a one. His hatred for John 
 Paul knew no bounds, and, having once tasted of his dis- 
 pleasure, he lay awake o' nights scheming to ruin him. And 
 this was the plot: when the Azores should be in the wake, 
 Captain Paul was to be murdered as he paced his quarterdeck 
 in the morning, the two mates clapt into irons, and so brought 
 to submission. And Maxwell, who had no more notion of 
 navigation than a carpenter should, was to take the John to 
 God knows where, — the Guinea coast, most probably. He 
 would have no more navy regulations on a merchant brigantine, 
 he promised them, nor banyan days, for the matter o' that. 
 
 1 1 never could put up with the villain. ^ Devil. 
 
 3 Soar and sullen. * Sorrow.
 
 A MAN" OF DESTINY 183 
 
 Happily, MaxjMiiir himself discovered the affair on the eve 
 of its perpetration, overhearing two men talking in the bread- 
 room, and he ran to the cabin with the sweat standing out on 
 his forehead. But the captain would have none of the pre- 
 cautions he urged ; declared he would walk the deck as usual, 
 and vowed he could cope single-handed with a dozen cowards 
 like Maxwell. Sure enough, at crowdie-time, the men were 
 seen coming aft, with Maxwell in the van carrying a bowl, on 
 the pretext of a complaint against the cook. 
 
 ''John Paul," said MacMuir, with admiration in his voice 
 and gesture, " John Paul wasna feart a pickle,^ but gaed to the 
 mast, whyles I stannt chittering i' my claes,^ fearfu' for his 
 life. He teuk the horn^ from Mungo, priet^ a soup o' the 
 crowdie, an' wi' that he seiz't haut o' the man by baith shou- 
 thers ere the blastie * raught ^ for 's knife. My aith upo 't, sir, 
 the lave' o' the batch cowert frae his e'e for a' the warld 
 like thumpit tykes.^" 
 
 So ended that mutiny, by the brave act of a brave man. 
 The carpenter was clapt into irons himself, and given no less 
 of the cat-o'-nine-tails than was good for him, and properly 
 discharged at Tobago with such as had supported him. But 
 he brought Captain Paul before the vice-admiralty court of 
 that place, charging him with gross crueltj', and this proceed- 
 ing had delayed the brigantine six months from her homeward 
 voyage, to the great loss of her owners. And tho' at length 
 the captain was handsomely acquitted, his character suffered 
 unjustly, for there lacked not those who put their own inter- 
 pretation upon the affair. He would most probably lose the 
 brigantine. " He expected as much," said MacMuir. 
 
 " There be mony aboord," he concluded, with a sigh, " as'll 
 muckle gash^ when we win to Kirkcudbright." 
 
 1 Little bit. 
 
 2 Shivering in my clothes. 
 
 3 Spoon. 
 
 4 Tasted. 
 
 6 Scoundrel. 
 
 6 Reached. 
 
 7 Rest. 
 
 * Cowered from his eye for all the world like whipt dogs, 
 s Gossip.
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 A SAD HOME-COMING 
 
 Mr. Lowrie and Auctherlonnie, the Dumfries bo'sun, both 
 of whom would have died for the captain, assured me of the 
 truth of MacMuir's story, and shook their heads gravely as to 
 the probable outcome. The peculiar water-mark of greatness 
 that is woven into some men is often enough to set their own 
 community bitter against them. Sandie, the plodding peasant, 
 finds it a hard matter to forgive Jamie, who is taken from the 
 plough next to his, and ends in Parliament. The afEair of 
 Mungo Maxwell, altered to suit, had already made its way on 
 more than one vessel to Scotland. For according to Lowrie, 
 there was scarce a man or woman in Kirkcudbrightshire who 
 did not know that John Paul was master of the John, and (in 
 their hearts) that he would be master of more in days to come. 
 Human nature is such that they resented it, and cried out 
 aloud against his cruelty. 
 
 On the voyage I had many sober thoughts of my own to 
 occupy me: of the terrible fate, from which, by Divine inter- 
 position, I had been rescued ; of the home I had left behind. 
 I was all that remained to Mr. Carvel in the world, and I was 
 sure that he had given me up for dead. How had he sus- 
 tained the shock ? I saw him heavily mounting the stairs 
 upon Scipio's arm when first the news was brought to him. 
 Next Grafton would come hurrying in from Kent to Marlboro' 
 Street, disavowing all knowledge of the messenger from New 
 York, and intent only upon comforting his father. And when 
 I pictured my uncle soothing him to his face, and grinning 
 behind his bed-curtains, my anger would scald me, and the 
 realization of my helplessness bring tears of very bitterness. 
 
 184
 
 A SAD HOME-COMING 185 
 
 What would I not have given then for one word with that 
 honest and faithful friend of our family, Captain Daniel ! I 
 knew that he suspected Grafton : he had told me as much that 
 night at the Coffee House. Perhaps the greatest of my fears 
 was that my uncle would deny him access to Mr. Carvel when 
 he returned from the North. 
 
 In the eveiung, when the sun settled red upon the horizon, 
 I would think of Patty and my friends in Gloucester Street. 
 For I knew they missed me sadly of a Sunday at the supper- 
 table. But it has ever been my nature to turn forward instead 
 of back, and to accept the twists and flings of fortune with 
 hope rather than with discouragement. And so, as we left 
 league after league of the blue ocean behind us, I would set 
 my face to the forecastle. For Dorothy was in England. 
 
 On a dazzling morning in March, with the brigantine run- 
 ning like a beagle in full cry before a heaping sea that swayed 
 her body, — so I beheld for the first time the misty green of 
 the high shores of Ireland. Ah ! of what heroes' deeds was 
 I capable as I watched the lines come out in bold relief from 
 a wonderland of cloud ! With what eternal life I seemed to 
 tingle ! 'Twas as though I, Richard Carvel, had discovered 
 all this colour ; and when a tiny white speck of a cottage came 
 out on the edge of the cliff, I thought irresistibly of the joy 
 to live there the year round with Dorothy, with the wind 
 whistling about our gables, and the sea thundering on the 
 rocks far below. Youth is in truth a mystery. 
 
 How long I was gazing at the shifting coast I know not, for 
 a strange wildness was within me that made me forget all else, 
 until suddenly I became conscious of a presence at my side, 
 and turned to behold the captain. 
 
 " 'Tis a braw sight, Richard," said he, " but no sae bonnie 
 as auld Scotland. An' the wind hands, we shall see her shores 
 the morn." 
 
 His voice broke, and I looked again to see two great tears 
 rolling upon his cheeks. 
 
 " Ah, Scotland ! " he pressed on, heedless of them, " God 
 aboon kens what she is to me ! But she hasna' been ower guid 
 to me, laddie." And he walked to the taffrail, and stood look-
 
 186 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 ing astern that two men who had come aft to splice a haulyard 
 might not perceive his disorder. I followed him, emboldened 
 to speak at last what was in me. 
 
 " Captain Paul," said I, " MacMuir has told me of your 
 trouble. My grandfather is rich, and not lacking in grati- 
 tude," — here I paused for suitable words, as I could not solve 
 his expression, — "you, sir, whose bravery and charity will 
 have restored me to him, shall not want for friends and 
 money." 
 
 He heard me through. 
 
 "Mr. Carvel," he replied with an impressiveness that took 
 me aback, "reward is a thing that should not be spoken of 
 between gentlemen." 
 
 And thus he left me, upbraiding myself that I should have 
 mentioned money. And yet, I reflected secondly, why not? 
 He was no more nor less than a master of a merchantman, and 
 surely nothing was out of the common in such a one accepting 
 what he had honestly come by. Had my affection for him 
 been less sincere, had I not been racked with sympathy, I had 
 laughed over his notions of gentility. I resolved, however, 
 that when I had reached London and seen Mr. Dix, Mr. Car- 
 vel's agent, he should be rewarded despite his scruples. And 
 if he lost his ship, he should have one of my grandfather's. 
 
 But at dinner he had plainly forgot any offence, and I had 
 more cause than ever to be puzzled over his odd mixture of 
 confidence and aloofness. He talked gayly on a score of sub- 
 jects, — on dress, of which he was never tired, and described 
 ports in the Indies and South America, in a fashion that 
 betrayed prodigious powers of acute observation; nor did he 
 lack for wit when he spoke of the rich planters who had 
 wined him, and had me much in laughter. We fell into a 
 merry mood, in sooth, jingling the glasses in many toasts, for 
 he had a list of healths to make me gasp, near as long as the 
 brigantine's articles, — Inez in Havana and Maraquita in Carta- 
 gena, and Clotilde, the Creole, of Martinico, each had her sep- 
 arate charm. Then there was Bess, in Kingston, the relict of 
 a customs official. Captain Paul relating with ingenuous gusto 
 a midnight brush with a lieutenant of his Majesty, in which
 
 A SAD HOME-COMING 187 
 
 the fair widow figured, and showed her preference, too. But 
 his adoration for the ladies of the more northern colonies, he 
 would have me to understand, was unbounded. For example. 
 Miss Arabella Pope of Norfolk, in Virginia, — and did I 
 know her ? No, I had not that pleasure, though I assured 
 him the Popes of Virginia were famed. Miss Pope danced 
 divinely as any sylph, and the very memory of lier tripping 
 at the Norfolk Assembly roused the captain to such a pitch of 
 enthusiasm as I had never seen in him. Marvellous to say, his 
 own words failed him, and he had recourse to the poets : — 
 
 " Her feet beneath her petticoat 
 Like little mice stole in and out, 
 
 As if they feared the light ; 
 But, oh, she dances such a way ! 
 No sun upon an Easter-day 
 Is half so fine a sight." 
 
 The lines, he told me, were Sir John Suckling's; and he 
 gave them standing, in excellent voice and elegant gesture. 
 
 He was in particular partial to the poets, could quote at will 
 from Gay and Thomson and Goldsmith and Gray, and even from 
 Shakespeare, much to my own astonishment and humiliation. 
 Saving only Dr. Courtenay of Annapolis I had never met his 
 equal for versatility of speech and command of fine language ; 
 and, having heard that he had been at sea since the age of 
 twelve, I made bold to ask him at what school he had go't his 
 knowledge. 
 
 "At none, Richard," he answered with pride, "saving the 
 rudiments at the Parish School at Kirkbean. Why, sir, I hold 
 it to be within every man's province to make himself what he 
 will, and I early recognized in Learning the only guide for such 
 as me. I may say that I married her for the furtherance of 
 my fortunes, and have come to love her for her own sake. 
 Many and many the 'tween-watch have I passed in a coil of 
 rope in the tops, a volume of the classics in my hand. And 
 my happiest days, when not at sea, have been spent in my 
 brother William's little library. He hath a modest estate near 
 Fredericksburg, in Virginia, and none holds higher than he the 
 worth of an education. Ah, Richard," he added, with a certain
 
 188 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 sadness, "I fear you little know the value of that which hath 
 been so lavishly bestowed upon you. There is no creation in 
 the world to equal your fine gentleman ! " 
 
 It struck me indeed as strange that a man of his powers 
 should set store by such trumpery, and, too, that these notions 
 had not impaired his ability as a seaman. 1 did not reply. 
 He gave no heed, however, but drew from a case a number of 
 odes and compositions, which he told me were his own. They 
 were addressed to various of his inamoratas, abounded in 
 orrery, and were all, I make no doubt, incredibly fine, tho' not 
 so much as one sticks in my mind. To speak truth I listened 
 with a very ill grace, longing the while to be on deck, for we 
 were about to sight the Isle of Man. The wine and the air of 
 the cabin had made my eyes heavy. But presently, when he 
 had run through with some dozen or more, he put them by, and 
 with a quick motion got from his chair, a light coming into his 
 dark eyes that startled me to attention. And I forgot the mer- 
 chant captain, and seemed to be looking forward into the years. 
 
 "Mark you, Richard," said he, "mark well when I say that 
 my time will come, and a day when the best of them will bow 
 to me. And every ell of that triumph shall be mine, sir, — ay, 
 every inch ! " 
 
 Such was his force, which sprang from some hidden fire 
 within him, that I believed his words as firmly as they had 
 been writ down in the Book of Isaiah. Brimming over with 
 enthusiasm, I pledged his coming greatness in a reaming glass 
 of Malaga. 
 
 "Alack," he cried, "an' they all had your faith, laddie, a 
 fig for the prophecy ! Ye maun ken th' incentive's the maist 
 o' the battle." 
 
 There was more of wisdom in this than I dreamed of then. 
 Here lay hid the very keynote of that ambitious character : he 
 stooped to nothing less than greatness for a triumph over his 
 slanderers. 
 
 I rose betimes the next morning to find the sun peeping 
 above the wavy line of the Scottish hills far up the Solway, 
 and the brigantine sliding smoothly along in the lee of the 
 Galloway Rhinns. And, though the month was March, the
 
 A SAD HOME-COMING 189 
 
 slopes of Burrow Head were green as the lawn of Carvel Hall 
 in May, and the slanting rays danced on the ruffed water. 
 By eight of the clock we had crept into Kirkcudbright Bay 
 and anchored off St. Mary's Isle, the tide running ebb, and 
 leaving a wide brown belt of sand behind it. 
 
 St. Mary's Isle ! As we looked upon it that day, John 
 Paul and I, and it lay low against the bright water with its 
 bare oaks and chestnuts against the dark pines, 'twas perhaps 
 as well that the future was sealed to us. 
 
 Captain Paul had conned the brigantine hither with a mas- 
 ter's hand; but now that the anchor was on the ground, he 
 became palpably nervous. I had donned again good MacMuir's 
 shore suit, and was standing by the gangway when the captain 
 approached me. 
 
 " What'll ye be doing now, Dickie lad ? " he asked kindly. 
 
 What indeed ! I was without money in a foreign port, still 
 dependent upon my benefactor. And since he had declared 
 his unwillingness to accept any return I was of no mind to 
 go farther into his debt. I thanked him again for his good- 
 ness in what sincere terms I could choose, and told him I 
 should be obliged if he would put me in the way of working 
 my passage to London upon some coasting vessel. But my 
 voice was thick, my affection for him having grown past my 
 understanding. 
 
 " Hoots ! " he replied, moved in his turn, '* whylos I hae 
 siller ye shallna lack. Ye maun gae post-chaise to London, as 
 befits yere station." 
 
 And scouting my expostulations, he commanded the long- 
 boat, bidding me be ready to go ashore with him. 1 had 
 nothing to do but to say farewell to MacMuir and Lowrie and 
 Auctherlonnie, which was hard enough. For the honest first 
 mate I had a great liking, and was touched beyond speech 
 when he enjoined me to keep his shore suit as long as I had 
 want of it. 
 
 " But you will be needing it, MacMuir," I said, suspecting 
 he had no other. 
 
 " Haith ! I am but a plain man, Mr. Carvel, and ye can sen' 
 back the claes frae London, wi' this geordie."
 
 190 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 He slipped a guinea into my hand, but this I positively 
 refused to take ; and to hide my feelings I climbed quickly 
 over the side and into the stern of the boat, beside the captain, 
 and was rowed away through the little fleet of cobles gather- 
 ing about the ship. Twisting my neck for a parting look at 
 the John, I caught a glimpse of MacMuir's ungainly shoulders 
 over the fokesle rail, and I was near to tears as he shouted a 
 hearty " God speed " after me. 
 
 As we drew near the town of Kirkcudbright, which lies very 
 low at the mouth of the river Dee. I made out a group of men 
 and women on the wharves. The captain was silent, regarding 
 them. When we had got within twenty feet or so of the land- 
 ing, a dame in a red woollen kerchief called out : — 
 
 " What hae ye done wi' Mungo, John Paul ? " 
 
 " Captain John Paul, Mither Birkie," spoke up a coarse 
 fellow with a rough beard. And a laugh went round. 
 
 "Ay, captain! Pll coptom him!" screamed the carlin, 
 pushing to the front as the oars were tossed, "I'll tak aith 
 Mr. Currie'll be captaining him for his towmond voyage o' 
 piratin'. He be leukin' for ye noo, John Paul." With that 
 some of the men on the thwarts, perceiving that matters were 
 likely to go ill with the captain, began to chaff with their 
 friends above. The respect with which he had inspired them, 
 however, prevented any overt insult on their part. As for me, 
 my temper had flared up like the burning of a loose charge of 
 powder, and by instinct my right hand sought the handle of the 
 mate's hanger. The beldame saw the motion. 
 
 " An' hae ye murder't MacMuir, John Paul, an' gien's claes 
 to a Buckskin gowk ? " 
 
 The knot stirred with an angry murmur : in truth they 
 meant violence, — nothing less. But they had counted with- 
 out their man, for Paul was born to ride greater crises. With 
 his lips set in a line he stepped lightly out of the boat into 
 their very midst, and they looked into his eyes to forget time 
 and place. MacMuir had told me how those eyes could con- 
 quer mutiny, but I had not believed had I not been there to 
 see the pack of them give back in sullen wonder. And so we 
 walked through and on to the little street beyond, and never a
 
 A SAD HOME-COMING 191 
 
 ■word from the captain until we came opposite the sign of the 
 " Hurcheon." 
 
 '' Do you await me here, Richard," he said quite calmly ; " I 
 must seek Mr. Currie, and make my report." 
 
 I have still the remembrance of that pitiful day in the clean 
 little village. I went into the inn and sat down upon an oak 
 settle in a corner of the bar, under the high lattice, and thought 
 of the bitterness of this home-coming. If I was amongst 
 strangers, he was amongst worse : verily, to have one's own 
 people set against one is heaviness of heart to a man whose 
 love of Scotland was great as John Paul's. After a while the 
 place began to fill, Willie and Robbie and Jamie arriving to 
 discuss Paul's return over their nappy. The little I could 
 make of their talk was not to my liking, but for the captain's 
 sake I kept my anger under as best I could, for I had the sense 
 to know that brawling with a lot of alehouse frequenters 
 would not advance his cause. At length, however, came in the 
 same sneering fellow I had marked on the wharf, calling 
 loudly for swats. '' Ay, Captain Paul was noo at Mr. Currie's, 
 syne banie Alan see'd him gang forbye the kirk." The 
 speaker's name, I learned, was Davie, and he had been talking 
 with each and every man in the long-boat. Yes, Mungo Max- 
 well had been cat-o'-nine-tailed within an inch of his life ; and 
 that was the truth ; for a trifling offence, too ; and cruelly dis- 
 charged at some outlandish port because, forsooth, he would 
 not accept the gospel of the divinity of Captain Paul. He 
 would as soon sign papers with the devil. 
 
 This Davie was gifted with a dangerous kind of humour which 
 I have heard called innuendo, and he soon had the bar packed 
 with listeners who laughed and cursed turn about, filling the 
 room to a closeness scarce supportable. And what between 
 the foul air and my resentment, and apprehension lest John 
 Paul would come hither after me, I was in prodigious dis- 
 comfort of body and mind. But there was no pushing my 
 way through them unnoticed, wedged as I was in a far corner; 
 so I sat still until unfortunately, or fortunately, the eye of 
 Davie chanced to fall upon me, and immediately his yellow 
 face lighted malignantly.
 
 192 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 " Oh ! here be the gentleman the captain's brocht hame ! " 
 he cried, emphasizing the two words ; " as braw a gentleman as 
 eer taeii frae pirates, an' nae doubt sin to ae bien Buckskin 
 bonnet-laird." 
 
 I saw through his game of getting satisfaction out of John 
 Paul thro' goading me, and determined he should have his fill 
 of it. For, all in all, he had me mad enough to fight three 
 times over. 
 
 " Set aside the gentleman,'' said I, standing up and taking 
 off MacMuir's coat, " and call me a lubberly clout like yourself, 
 and we will see which is the better clout." I put off the long- 
 sleeved jacket, and faced him with my fists doubled, crying: 
 " I'll teach you, you spawn of a dunghill, to speak ill of a good 
 man ! " 
 
 A clamour of " Fecht ! fecht ! " arose, and some of them ap- 
 plauded me, calling me a " swankie," which I believe is a com- 
 pliment. A certain sense of fairness is often to be found where 
 least expected. They capsized the fat, protesting browster- 
 wife over her own stool, and were pulling Jamie's coat from 
 his back, when I began to suspect that a fight was not to the 
 sniveller's liking. Indeed, the very look of him made me laugh 
 out — 'twas now as mild as a summer's morn. 
 
 " Wow," says Jamie, "ye maun fecht wi' a man o' yere ain 
 size." 
 
 " I'll lay a guinea that we weigh even," said I; and suddenly 
 remembered that I had not so much as tuppence to bless me. 
 
 Happily he did not accept the wager. In huge disgust they 
 hustled him from the inn and put forward the blacksmith, who 
 was standing at the door in his leather apron. Now 1 had not 
 bargained with the smith, who seemed a well-natured enough 
 man, and grinned broadly at the prospect. But they made a 
 ring on the floor, I going over it at one end, and he at the 
 other, when a cry came from the street, those about the entrance 
 parted, and in walked John Paul himself. At sight of him my 
 new adversary, who was preparing to deal me out a blow to fell 
 an ox, dropped his arms in surprise, and held out his big hand. 
 
 " Haith ! John Paul," he shouted heartily, forgetting me, 
 " 'tis blythe I am to see yere bonnie face ance mair ! "
 
 In walked John Paul himself
 
 A SAD HOME-COMING 193 
 
 " An* wha are ye, Jamie Darrell," said the captain, " to be 
 bangin' yere betters ? Dinua ye ken gentry when ye see't ? " 
 
 A puzzled look spread over the smith's grimy face. 
 
 " Gentry ! " says he ; " nae gentry that I ken, John Paul. 
 Th' fecht be but a bit o' fun, an' nane o' my seekin'." 
 
 ''What quarrel is this, Richard?" says John Paul to me. 
 
 " In truth I have no quarrel with this honest man," I replied; 
 " I desired but the pleasure of beating a certain evil-tongued 
 Davie, who seems to have no stomach for blows, and hath taken 
 his lies elsewhere." 
 
 So quiet was the place that the tinkle of the guidwife's 
 needle, which she had dropped to the flags, sounded clear to 
 all. John Paul stood in the middle of the ring, erect, like a 
 man inspired, and the same strange sense of prophecy that had 
 stirred my blood crept over him and awed the rest, as tho' 'twere 
 suddenly given to see him, not as he was, but as he would be. 
 Then he spoke. 
 
 " You, who are my countrymen, who should be my oldest and 
 best friends, are become my enemies. You who were com- 
 panions of my childhood are revilers of my manhood; you 
 have- robbed me of my good name and my honour, of my ship, 
 of my very means of livelihood, and you are not content ; you 
 would rob me of my country, which I hold dearer than all. 
 And I have never done you evil, nor spoken aught against you. 
 As for the man Maxwell, whose part you take, his child is 
 starving in your very midst, and you have not lifted your 
 hands. 'Twas for her sake I shipped him, and none other. 
 May God forgive you ! He alone sees the bitterness in my 
 heart this day. He alone knows my love for Scotland, and 
 what it costs me to renounce her." 
 
 He had said so much with an infinite sadness, and I read a 
 response in the eyes of more than one of his listeners, the 
 guidwife weeping aloud. But now his voice rose, and he ended 
 with a fiery vigour. 
 
 " Renounce her I do," he cried, " now and f orevermore ! 
 Henceforth I am no countryman of j^ours. And if a day of 
 repentance sliotdd come for this evil, remember well what I have 
 said to you." 
 o
 
 194 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 They stood for a moment when he had finished, shifting un- 
 easily, their tongues gone, like lads caught in a lie. I think 
 they felt his greatness then, and had any one of them possessed 
 the nobility to come forward with an honest word, John Paul 
 might yet have been saved to Scotland. As it was, they slunk 
 away in twos and threes, leaving at last only the good smith 
 with us. He was not a man of talk, and the tears had washed 
 the soot from his face in two white furrows. 
 
 " Ye'll hae a waught wi' me afore ye gang, John," he said 
 clumsily, " for th' morns we've paddP 't thegither i' th' Nith." 
 
 The ale was brought by the guidwife, who paused, as she 
 put it down, to wipe her eyes with her apron. She gave John 
 Paul one furtive glance and betook herself again to her knit- 
 ting with a sigh, speech having failed her likewise. The cap- 
 tain grasped up his mug. 
 
 " May God bless you, Jamie," he said. 
 
 " Ye'll be gaen noo to see the mither," said Jamie, after a 
 long space. 
 
 " Ay, for the last time. An', Jamie, ye'll see that nae harm 
 cams to her when I'm far awa' ? " 
 
 The smith promised, and also agreed to have John Paul's 
 chests sent by wagon, that very day, to Dumfries. And we 
 left him at his forge, his honest breast torn with emotion, 
 looking after us.
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 
 THE GAEDENEr's COTTAGE 
 
 So we walked out of the village, with many a head craned 
 after us and many an eye peeping from behind a shutter, and 
 on into the open highway. The day was heavenly bright, the 
 wind humming around us and playing mad pranks with the 
 white cotton clouds, and I forgot awhile the pity within me to 
 wonder at the orderly look of the country, the hedges with 
 never a stone out of place, and the bars always up. The 
 ground was parcelled off in such bits as to make me smile 
 when I remembered our oAvn wide tracts in the New World. 
 Here waste was sin : with us part and parcel of a creed. I 
 marvelled, too, at the primness and solidity of the houses along 
 the road, and remarked how their lines belonged rather to the 
 landscape than to themselves. But I was conscious ever of a 
 strange wish to expand, for I felt as tho' I were in the land of 
 the Liliputians, and the thought of a gallop of forty miles or 
 so over these honeycombed fields brought me to a laugh. But 
 I was yet to see some estates of the gentry. 
 
 I had it on my tongue's tip to ask the captain whither he 
 was taking me, yet dared not intrude on the sorrow that still 
 gripped him. Time and time we met people plodding along, 
 some of them nodding uncertainly, others abruptly taking the 
 far side of the pike, and every encounter drove the poison 
 deeper into his soul. But after we had travelled some way, 
 up hill and down dale, he vouchsafed the intelligence that we 
 were making for Arbigland, Mr. Craik's seat near Dumfries, 
 which lies on the Nith twenty miles or so up the Solway from 
 Kirkcudbright. On that estate stood the cottage where John 
 Paul was born, and where his mother and sisters still dwelt. 
 
 195
 
 196 EICHAKD CARVEL 
 
 "I'll juist be saying guidbye, Richard," he said; "and leave 
 them a bit siller I hae saved, an' syne we'll be aff to London 
 thegither, for Scotland's no but a cauld kintra." 
 
 " You are going to London with me ? " I cried. 
 
 "Ay," answered he ; "this is liame nae mair for John Paul." 
 
 I made bold to ask how the John's owners had treated him. 
 
 " I have naught to complain of, laddie," he answered ; " botli 
 Mr. Beck and Mr. Currie bore the matter of the admiralty 
 court and the delay like the gentlemen they are. They well 
 know that I am hard driven when I resort to the lash. They 
 were both sore at losing me, and says Mr. Beck : ' We'll not 
 soon get another to keep the brigantine like a man-o'-war, as 
 did you, John Paul.' I thanked him, and told him I had 
 sworn never to take another merchantman out of the Solway. 
 And I will keep that oath." 
 
 He sighed, and added that he never hoped for better owners. 
 In token of which he drew a certificate of service from his 
 pocket, signed by Messrs. Currie and Beck, proclaiming him 
 the best master and supercargo they had ever had in their 
 service. I perceived that talk lightened him, and led him on. 
 I inquired how he had got the JoJm. 
 
 " I took passage on her from Kingston, laddie. On the trip 
 both Captain Macadam and the chief mate died of the fever. 
 And it was I, the passenger, who sailed her into Kirkcudbright, 
 tho' I had never been more than a chief mate before. That 
 is scarce three years gone, when I was just turned one and 
 twenty. And old Mr. Currie, who had known my father, was 
 so pleased that he gave me the ship. I had been chief mate 
 of the Two Friends, a slaver out of Kingston." 
 
 " And so you were in that trade ! " I exclaimed. 
 
 He seemed to hesitate. 
 
 " Yes," he replied, " and sorry I am to say it. But a man 
 must live. It was no place for a gentleman, and I left of 
 my own accord. Before that, I was on a slaver out of White- 
 haven." 
 
 " You must know Whitehaven, then." 
 
 I said it only to keep the talk going, but I remembered the 
 remark long after.
 
 THE GARDENER'S COTTAGE 197 
 
 "I do," said he. "'Tis a fair sample of an English coast 
 town. And I have often thought, in the event of war with 
 France, how easy 'twould be for Louis's cruisers to harry the 
 place, and an hundred like it, and raise such a terror as to 
 keep the British navy at home." 
 
 I did not know at the time that this was the inspiration 
 of an admiral and of a genius. The subject waned. And as 
 I'amiliar scenes jogged his memory, he launched into Scotch 
 and reminiscence. Every barn he knew, and cairn and croft 
 and steeple recalled stories of his boyhood. 
 
 We had long been in sight of Criffel, towering ahead of 
 us, whose summit had beckoned for cycles to Helvellyn and 
 Saddleback looming up to the southward, marking the won- 
 derland of the English lakes. And at length, after some five 
 hours of stiff walking, we saw the brown Nith below us going 
 down to meet the Solway, and so came to the entrance of Mr. 
 Craik's place. The old porter recognized Paul by a mere 
 shake of the head and the words, " Yere back, are ye ? " and 
 a lowering of his bushy white eyebrows. We took a by-way 
 to avoid the manor-house, which stood on the rising ground 
 twixt us and the mountain, I walking close to John Paul's 
 shoulder and feeling for him at every step. Presently, at 
 a turn of the path, we were brought face to face with an 
 elderly gentleman in black, and John Paul stopped. 
 
 " Mr. Craik ! " he said, removing his hat. 
 
 But the gentleman only whistled to his dogs and went on. * 
 
 " My God, even he ! " exclaimed the captain, bitterly ; " even 
 he, who thought so highly of my father ! " 
 
 A hundred yards more and we came to the little cottage 
 nigh hid among the trees. John Paul paiised a moment, his 
 hand upon the latch of the gate, his eyes drinking in the 
 familiar picture. The light of day was dying behind Criffel, 
 and the tiny panes of the cottage windows pulsed with the 
 rosy flame on the hearth within, now flaring, and again deep- 
 ening. He sighed. He walked with unsteady step to the 
 door and pushed it open. I followed, scarce knowing what 
 I did, halted at the threshold and drew back, for I had been 
 upon holy ground.
 
 198 EICHARD CARVEL 
 
 John Paul was kneeling upon the flags by the ingleside, 
 his face buried on the open Bible in his mother's lap. Her 
 snowy-white head was bent upon his, her tears running fast, 
 and her lips moving in silent prayer to Him who giveth and 
 taketh away. Verily, here in this humble place dwelt a love 
 that defied the hard usage of a hard world ! 
 
 After a space he came to the door and called, and took me 
 by the hand, and I went in with him. Though his eyes were 
 wet, he bore himself like a cavalier. 
 
 ''Mother, this is Mr. Richard Carvel, heir to Carv^el Hall 
 in Maryland, — a young gentleman whom I have had the 
 honour to rescue from a slaver." 
 
 I bowed low, such was my respect for Dame Paul, and she 
 rose and curtseyed. She wore a widow's cap and a black 
 gown, and I saw in her deep-lined face a resemblance to her 
 son. 
 
 " Madam," I said, the title coming naturally, " I owe Cap- 
 tain Paul a debt I can never repay." 
 
 " An' him but a laddie ! " she cried. " I'm thankfu', John, 
 I'm thankfu' for his mither that ye saved him." 
 
 " I have no mother, Madam Paul," said I, " and my father 
 was killed in the French war. But I have a grandfather who 
 loves me dearly as I love him." 
 
 Some impulse brought her forward, and she took both my 
 hands in her own. 
 
 " Ye'll forgive an auld woman, sir," she said, with a dignity 
 that matched her son's, "but ye're sae young, an' ye hae sic 
 a leuk in yere bonny gray e'e that I ken ye'll aye be a true 
 friend o' John's. He's been a guid sin to me, an' ye maunna 
 reck what they say o' him." 
 
 When now I think of the triumph John Paul has achieved, 
 of the scoffing world he has brought to his feet, I cannot but 
 recall that sorrowful evening in the gardener's cottage, when 
 a son was restored but to be torn away. The sisters came in 
 from their day's work, — both well-favoured lasses, with John's 
 eyes and hair, — and cooked the simple meal of broth and por- 
 ridge, and the fowl they had kept so long against the captain's 
 home-coming. He carved w^th many a light word that cost
 
 THE GAKDENER'S COTTAGE 199 
 
 him dear. Did Janet reca' the simmer nights they had supped 
 here, wi' the bumclocks bizzin' ower the candles ? And was 
 Nancy, the cow, still i' the byre ? And did the bees still give 
 the same bonnie hiney, and were the red apples still in the 
 far orchard ? Ay, Meg had thocht o' him that autumn, and 
 ran to fetch them with her apron to her face, to come back 
 smiling through her tears. So it went ; and often a lump 
 would rise in my throat that I could not eat, famished as I 
 was, and the mother and sisters scarce touched a morsel of 
 the feast. 
 
 The one never failing test of a son, my dears, lies in his 
 treatment of his mother, and from that hour forth I had not 
 a doubt of John Paul. He was a man who had seen the 
 world and become, in more than one meaning of the word, 
 a gentleman. Whatever foibles he may have had, he brought 
 no conscious airs and graces to this lowly place, but was again 
 the humble gardener's boy. 
 
 But time pressed, as it ever does. The hour came for us 
 to leave, John Paul firmly refusing to remain the night in 
 a house that belonged to Mr. Craik. Of the tenderness, nay, 
 of the pity and cruelty of that parting, I have no power to 
 write. We knelt with bowed heads while the mother prayed 
 for the son, expatriated, whom she never hoped to see again 
 on this earth. She gave us bannocks of her own baking, and 
 her last words were to implore me always to be a friend to 
 John Paul. 
 
 Then we went out into the night and walked all the way to 
 Dumfries in silence. 
 
 We lay that night at the sign of the " Twa Naigs," ^ where 
 the Pretender himself had rested in the Mars year.^ Before I 
 went to bed I called for pen and paper, and by the light of a 
 tallow dip sat down to compose a letter to my grandfather, 
 telling him that I was alive and well, and recounting as much 
 of my adventures as I could. I said that I was going to Lon- 
 don, where I would see Mr. Dix, and would take passage 
 
 1 1 have not been able to discover why Mr. Carvel disguised the name of 
 this hostlery. It is probable that he forgot it. He kept no journal. — D. C. C. 
 2 The year 1715.
 
 200 EICHAED CARVEL 
 
 thence for America. I prayed that he had been able to bear 
 up against the ordeal of my disappearance. I dwelt upon the 
 obligations I was under to John Paul, relating the misfortunes 
 of that worthy seaman (which he so little deserved!). And 
 said that it was my purpose to bring him to Maryland with 
 me, where I knew Mr. Carvel would reward him with one of 
 his ships, explaining that he would accept no money. But 
 w^hen it came to accusing Grafton and the rector, I thought 
 twice, and bit the end of the feather. The chances were so 
 great that my grandfather would be in bed and under the 
 guardianship of my uncle that I forbore, and resolved instead 
 to write it to Captain Daniel at my first opportunity. 
 
 I arose early to discover a morning gray and drear, with a 
 mist falling to chill the bones. News travels apace the world 
 over, and that of John Paul's home-coming and of his public 
 renunciation of Scotland at the "Hurcheon" had reached 
 Dumfries in good time, substantiated by the arrival of the 
 teamster with the chests the night before. I descended into 
 the courtyard in time to catch the captain in his watchet-blue 
 frock haggling with the landlord for a chaise, the two of them 
 surrounded by a muttering crowd anxious for a glimpse of Mr. 
 Craik's gardener's son, for he had become a nine-day sensation 
 to the country round about. But John Paul minded them not 
 so much as a swarm of flies, and the teamster's account of the 
 happenings at Kirkcudbright had given them so wholesome a 
 fear of his speech and presence as to cause them to misdoubt 
 their own wit, which is saying a deal of Scotchmen. But 
 when the bargain had been struck and John Paul gone with 
 the 'ostler to see to his chests, mine host thought it a pity not 
 to have a fall out of me. 
 
 " So ye be the Buckskin laird," he said, with a wink at a 
 leering group of farmers; "ye hae braw gentles in America." 
 
 He was a man of sixty or thereabout, with a shrewd but not 
 unkindly face that had something familiar in it. 
 
 " You have discernment indeed to recognize a gentleman in 
 Scotch clothes," I replied, turning the laugh on him. 
 
 " Dinna rai^e ae Buckskin, Mr. Rawlinson," said a man in 
 corduroy.
 
 THE GAEDENER'S COTTAGE 201 
 
 *' Rawlinson ! " I exclaimed at random, " there is one of your 
 name in the colonies who knows his station better." 
 
 "Trowkt!" cried mine host, "ye ken Ivie o' Maryland, — 
 Ivie my brither ? " 
 
 " He is my grandfather's miller at Carvel Hall," I said. 
 
 "Syne ye maun be nane ither than Mr. Richard Carvel. 
 Yere servan', Mr. Carvel," and he made me a low bow, to the 
 great dropjnng of jaws round about, and led me into the inn. 
 With trembling hands he took a packet from his cabinet and 
 showed me the letters, twenty-three in all, which Ivie had 
 written home since he had gone out as the King's passenger 
 in '45. The sight of them brought tears to my eyes and 
 carried me out of the Scotch mist back to dear old Maryland. 
 I had no trouble in convincing mine host that I was the lad 
 eulogized in the scrawls, and he put hand on the very sheet 
 which announced my birth, nineteen years since, — the fourth 
 generation of Carvels Ivie had known. 
 
 So it came that the captain and I got the best chaise and 
 pair in place of the worst, and sat down to a breakfast such as 
 was prepared only for my Lord Selkirk when he passed that 
 way, while I told the landlord of his brother ; and as I talked 
 I remembered the day I had caught the arm of the mill and 
 gone the round, to find that Ivie had written of that, too ! 
 
 After that our landlord would not hear of a reckoning. I 
 might stay a month, a year, at the " Twa Naigs " if I wished. 
 As for John Paul, who seemed my friend, he would say noth- 
 ing, only to advise me privately that the man w^as queer com- 
 pany, shaking his head when I defended him. He came to me 
 with ten guineas, which he pressed me to take for Ivie's sake, 
 and repay when occasion offered. I thanked him, but was of 
 no mind to accept money from one who thought ill of my 
 benefactor. 
 
 The refusal of these recalled the chaise, and I took the 
 trouble to expostulate with the captain on that score, pointing 
 out as delicately as I might that, as he had brought me to 
 Scotland, I held it within my right to incur the expense of the 
 trip to London, and that I intended to reimburse him when I 
 saw Mr. Dix. For I knew that his wallet was not over full,
 
 202 EICHARD CARVEL 
 
 since he had left the half of his savings with his mother. 
 Much to my secret delight, he agreed to this as within the 
 compass of a gentleman's acceptance. Had he not, I had the 
 full intention of leaving him to post it alone, and of offering 
 myself to the master of the first schooner. 
 
 Despite the rain, and the painful scenes gone through but 
 yesterday, and the sour-looking ring of men and women 
 gathered to see the start, I was in high spirits as we went spin- 
 ning down the Carlisle road, with my heart leaping to the 
 crack of the postilion's whip. 
 
 I was going to London and to Dorothy !
 
 CHAPTER XXII 
 
 ON THE ROAD 
 
 Many were the ludicrous incidents we encountered on our 
 journey to London. As long as I live, I shall never forget 
 John Paul's alighting upon the bridge of the Sark to rid him- 
 self of a mighty farewell address to Scotland he had been com- 
 posing upon the road. And this he delivered with such appall- 
 ing voice and gesture as to frighten to a standstill a chaise on 
 the English side of the stream, containing a young gentleman 
 in a scarlet coat and a laced hat, and a young lady who sobbed 
 as we passed them. They were, no doubt, running to Gretna 
 Green to be married. 
 
 Captain Paul, as I have said, was a man of moods, and 
 strangely affected by ridicule. And this we had in plenty 
 upon the road. Landlords, grooms, and 'ostlers, and even our 
 own post-boys, laughed and jested coarsely at his sky-blue 
 frock, and their sallies angered him beyond all reason, while 
 they afforded me so great an amusement that more than once 
 I was on the edge of a serious falling-out with him as a conse- 
 quence of my merriment. Usually, when we alighted from our 
 vehicle, the expression of mine host would sour, and his sir 
 would shift to a master; while his servants would go trooping 
 in again, with many a coarse fling that they would get no vails 
 from such as Ave. And once we were invited into the kitchen. 
 He would be sour for half a day at a spell after a piece of in- 
 solence out of the common, and then deliver me a solemn lecture 
 upon the advantages of birth in a manor. Then his natural 
 buoyancy would lift him agaiii, and he would be in childish 
 ecstasies at the prospect of getting to London, and seeing the 
 great world ; and I began to think that he secretly cherished 
 
 203
 
 204 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 the hope of meeting some of its votaries. For I had told him, 
 casually as possible, that I had friends in Arlington Street, 
 where I remembered the Manners were established. 
 
 " Arlington Street ! " he repeated, rolling the words over his 
 tongue ; " it has a fine sound, laddie, a fine sound. That street 
 must be the very acme of fashion." 
 
 I laughed, and replied that I did not know. And at the 
 ordinary of the next inn we came to, he took occasion to men- 
 tion to me, in a louder voice than was necessary, that I would 
 do well to call in Arlington Street as we went into town. So 
 far as I could see, the remark did not compel any increase of 
 respect from our fellow-diners. 
 
 Upon more than one point I was worried. Often and often 
 I reflected that some hitch might occur to prevent my getting 
 money promptly from Mr. Dix. Days would perchance elapse 
 before I could find the man in such a great city as London ; he 
 might be out of town at this season, Easter being less than a 
 se'nnight away. For I had heard my grandfather say that the 
 elder Mr. Dix had a house in some merchant's suburb, and 
 loved to play at being a squire before he died. Again (my 
 heart stood at the thought), the Manners might be gone back 
 to America. I cursed the stubborn pride which had led the 
 captain to hire a post-chaise, when the wagon had served us 
 so much better, and besides relieved him of the fusillade of 
 ridicule he got travelling as a gentleman. But such reflec- 
 tions always ended in my upbraiding myself for blaming him 
 whose generosity had rescued me from perhaps a life-long 
 misery. 
 
 But, on the whole, we rolled southward happily, between 
 high walls and hedges, past trim gardens and fields and 
 meadows, and I marvelled at the regular, park-like look of 
 the country, as though stamped from one design continually 
 recurring, like our butter at Carvel Hall. The roads were 
 sometimes good, and sometimes as execrable as a colonial 
 byway in winter, with mud up to the axles. And yet, my 
 heart went out to this country, the home of my ancestors. 
 Spring was at hand ; the ploughboys whistled between the fur- 
 rows, the larks circled overhead, and the lilacs were cautiously
 
 ON THE ROAD 205 
 
 pushing forth their noses. The air was heavy with the per- 
 fume of living things. 
 
 The welcome we got at our various stopping-places was often 
 scanty indeed, and more than once we were told to go farther 
 down the street, that the inn was full. And I may as well 
 confess that my mind was troubled about John Paul. De- 
 spite all I could say; he would go to tJtie best hotels in the 
 larger towns, declaring that there we should meet the people 
 of fashion. Nor was his eagerness damped when he discovered 
 that such people never came to the ordinary, but were served 
 in their own rooms by their own servants. 
 
 '' I shall know them yet," he would vow, as we started off of 
 a morning, after having seen no more of my Lord than his liver- 
 ies below stairs. " Am I not a gentleman in all but birth, Rich- 
 ard ? And that is a- difficulty many before me have overcome. 
 I have the classics, and the history, and the poets. And the 
 French language, though I have never made the grand tour. I 
 flatter myself that my tone might be worse. By the help of 
 your friends, I shall have a title or two for acquaintances be- 
 fore I leave London ; and when my money is gone, there is a 
 shipowner I know of who will give me employment, if I have 
 not obtained preferment." 
 
 The desire to meet persons of birth was near to a mania 
 with him. And I had not the courage to dampen his hopes. 
 But, inexperienced as I was, I knew the kind better than he, 
 and understood that it was easier for a camel to enter the eye 
 of a needle, than for John Paul to cross the thresholds of the 
 great houses of London. The way of adventurers is hard, and 
 he could scarce lay claim then to a better name. 
 
 "We shall go to Maryland together. Captain Paul," I said, 
 " and waste no time upon London save to see Vauxhall, and 
 the opera, and St. James's and the Queen's House and the 
 Tower, and Parliament, and perchance his Majesty himself," 
 I added, attempting merriment, for the notion of seeing Dolly 
 only to leave her gave me a pang. And the captain knew 
 nothing of Dolly. 
 
 "So, Richard, you fear I shall disgrace you," he said re- 
 proachfully. " Know, sir, that I have pride enough and to
 
 206 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 spare. That I can make friends without going to Arlington 
 Street." 
 
 I was ready to cry with vexation at this chiklish speech. 
 
 " And a time will come when they shall know me," he went 
 on. " If they insult me now they shall pay dearly for it." 
 
 " My dear captain," I cried ; " nobody will insult you, and 
 least of all my friends, the Manners." I had my misgivings 
 about little Mr. Marmaduke. " But we are, neither of us, 
 equipped for a London season. I am but an unknown provin- 
 cial, and you — " I paused for words. 
 
 For a sudden realization had come upon me that our posi- 
 tions were now reversed. It seemed strange that I should be 
 interpreting the world to this man of power. 
 
 " And I ? " he repeated bitterly. 
 
 " You have first to become an admiral," I replied, with in- 
 spii'ation; "Drake was once a common seaman." 
 
 He did not answer. But that evening as we came into Wind- 
 sor, I perceived that he had not abandoned his intentions. The 
 long light flashed on the peaceful Thames, and the great, 'grim 
 castle was gilded all over its western side. 
 
 The captain leaned out of the window. 
 
 " Postilion," he called, " which inn here is mcst favoured by 
 gentlemen ? " 
 
 " The ' Castle,' " said the boy, turning in his saddle to grin 
 at me. '' But if I might be so bold as to advise your honour, 
 the ' Swan ' is a comfortable house, and well attended." 
 
 "Know your place, sirrah," shouted the captain, angrily, 
 " and drive us to the ' Castle.' " 
 
 The boy snapped his whip disdainfully, and presently pulled 
 us up at the inn, our chaise covered with the mud of three par- 
 ticular showers we had run through that day. And, as usual, 
 the landlord, thinking he was about to receive quality, came 
 scraping to the chaise door, only to turn with a gesture of dis- 
 gust when he perceived John Paul's sea-boxes tied on behind, 
 and the costiime of that hero, as well as my own. 
 
 The captain demanded a room. But mine host had turned 
 his back, when suddenly a thought must have struck him, foi 
 he wheeled again.
 
 ON THE ROAD 207 
 
 " Stay," he cried, glancing suspiciously at the sky-blue frock-, 
 " if you are Mr. Dyson's courier, I have reserved a suite." 
 
 This same John Paul, who was like iron with mob and mu- 
 tiny, was pitiably helpless before such a prop of the aristocracy. 
 He flew into a rage, and rated the landlord in Scotch and Eng- 
 lish, and I was fain to put my tongue in my cheek and turn my 
 back that my laughter might not anger him the more. 
 
 And so I came face to face with another smile, behind a 
 spying-glass, — a smile so cynical and unpleasant withal that 
 my own was smothered. A tall and thin gentleman, who had 
 come out of the inn without a hat, was surveying the dispute 
 with a keen delight. He was past the middle age. His 
 clothes bore that mark which distinguishes his world from the 
 other, but his features were so striking as to hold my attention 
 unwittingly. 
 
 After a while he withdrew his glass, cast one look at me 
 which might have meant anything, and spoke up. 
 
 " Pray, my good Goble, why all this f ol-de-rol about admit- 
 ting a gentleman to your house ? " 
 
 I scarce know which was the more astonished, the landlord, 
 John Paul, or I. Goble bowed at the speaker. 
 
 " A gentleman, your honour ! " he gasped. " Your honour is 
 joking again. Surely this trumpery Scotchman in Jews' finery 
 is no gentleman, nor the 'longshore lout he has got with him. 
 They may go to the ' Swan.' " 
 
 " Jews' finery ! " shouted the captain, with his fingers on his 
 sword. 
 
 But the stranger held up a hand deprecatingly. 
 
 " 'Pon my oath, Goble, I gave you credit for more penetra- 
 tion," he drawled; "you maybe right about the Scotchman, 
 but your 'longshore lout has had both birth and breeding, or I 
 know nothing." 
 
 John Paul, who was in the act of bowing to the speaker, 
 remained petrified with his hand upon his heart, entirely dis- 
 comfited. The landlord forsook him instantly for me, then 
 stole a glance at his guest to test his seriousness, and looked 
 at my face to see how greatly it were at variance with my 
 clothes. The temptation to lay hands on the cringing little
 
 208 RICHAED CAEVEL 
 
 toadeater grew too strong for me, and I picked him up by tlie 
 scruff of the collar, — he was all skin and bones, — and spun 
 him round like a corpse upon a gibbet, while he cried mercy in 
 a voice to wake the dead. The slim gentleman under the sign 
 laughed until he held his sides, with a heartiness that jarred 
 upon me. It did not seem to fit him. 
 
 " By Hercules and Vulcan," he cried, when at last I had set 
 the landlord down, " what an arm and back the lad has ! He 
 must have the best in the house, Goble, and sup with me." 
 
 Goble pulled himself together. 
 
 " And he is your honour's friend," he began, with a scowl. 
 
 "Ay, he is my friend, I tell you/' retorted the important 
 personage, impatiently. 
 
 The innkeeper, sulky, half-satisfied, yet fearing to offend, 
 welcomed us with what grace he could muster, and we were 
 shown to " The Fox and the Grapes," a large room in the rear 
 of the house. 
 
 John Paul had not spoken since the slim gentleman had 
 drawn the distinction between us, and I knew that the affront 
 was rankling in his breast. He cast himself into a chair with 
 such an air of dejection as made me pity him from my heart. 
 But I had no consolation to offer. His first words, far from 
 being the torrent of protest I looked for, almost startled me 
 into laughter. 
 
 " He can be nothing less than a duke," said the captain. 
 "Ah, Richard, see what it is to be a gentleman ! " 
 
 " Fiddlesticks !. I had rather own your powers than the best 
 title in Engla.nd," I retorted sharply. 
 
 He shook his head sorrowfully, which made me wonder the 
 more that a man of his ability should be unhappy without 
 this one bauble attainment. 
 
 " I shall begin to believe the philosophers have the right of 
 it," he remarked presently. " Have you ever read anything 
 of Monsieur Eousseau's, EicJiard ? " 
 
 The words were scarce out of his mouth when we heard a 
 loud rap on the door, which I opened to discover a Swiss 
 fellow in a private livery, come to say that his master begged 
 the young gentleman would sup with him. The man stood
 
 ON THE KOAD 209 
 
 immovable while he delivered this message, and put an impu- 
 dent emphasis upon the gentleman. 
 
 "Say to your master, whoever he may be," I replied, in 
 some heat at the man's sneer, " that I am travelling with Cap- 
 tain Paul. That any invitation to me must include him." 
 
 The lackey stood astounded at my answer, as though he had 
 not heard aright. Then he retired with less assurance than 
 he had come, and John Paul sprang to his feet and laid his 
 hands upon my shoulders, as was his wont when affected. He 
 reproached himself for having misjudged me, and added a deal 
 more that I have forgotten. 
 
 " And to think," he cried, " that you have forgone supping 
 with a nobleman on my account ! " 
 
 " Pish, captain, 'tis no great denial. His Lordship — if Lord- 
 ship he is — is stranded in an inn, overcome Avith ennui, and 
 must be amused. That is all." 
 
 Nevertheless I think the good captain was distinctly dis- 
 appointed, not alone because I gave up what in his opinion was 
 a great advantage, but likewise because I could have regaled 
 him on my return with an account of the meal. For it must 
 be borne in mind, my dears, that those days are not these, nor 
 that country this one. And in judging Captain Paul it must 
 be remembered that rank inspired a vast respect when King 
 G-eorge came to the throne. It can never be said of John 
 Paul that he lacked either independence or spirit. But a 
 nobleman was a nobleman then. 
 
 So when presently the gentleman himself appeared smiling 
 at our door, which his servant had left open, we both of us 
 rose up in astonishment and bowed very respectfullj^, and my 
 face burned at the thought of the message I had sent him. 
 Por, after all, the captain was but twenty-three and I nineteen, 
 and the distinguished unknown at least fifty. He took a pinch 
 of snuff and brushed his waistcoat before he spoke. 
 
 "Egad," said he, with good nature, looking up at me, 
 "Mohammed was a philosopher, and so am I, and come to the 
 mountain. 'Tis worth crossing an inn in these times to see a 
 young man whose strength has not been wasted upon foppery. 
 May I ask your name, sir ? "
 
 210 EICHAED CARVEL 
 
 " E,ichard Carvel/' I answered, much put aback. 
 
 " All, Carvel," lie repeated ; " I know tliree or four of that 
 name. Perhaps you are Robert Carvel's sou, of Yorkshire. 
 But what the devil do you do in such clothes ? I was resolved 
 to have you though I am forced to take a dozen watchet-blue 
 mountebanks in the bargain." 
 
 " Sir, I warn you not to insult my friend," I cried, in a 
 temper again. 
 
 "There, there, not so loud, I beg you," said he, with a 
 gesture. ''Hot as pounded pepper, — but all things are the 
 better for a touch of it. I had no intention of insulting the 
 worthy man, I give my word. I must have my joke, sir. No 
 harm meant." And he nodded at John Paul, who looked as if 
 he would sink through the floor. " Robert Carvel is as testy 
 as the devil with the gout, and you are not unlike him in 
 feature." 
 
 "■ He is no relation of mine," I replied, undecided whether 
 to laugh or be angry. And then I added, for I was very 
 young, " I am an American, and heir to Carvel Hall in Mary- 
 land." 
 
 "Lord, lord, I might have known," exclaimed he. "Once 
 I had the honour of dining with your Dr. Franklin, from 
 Pennsylvania. He dresses for all the world like you, only 
 worse, and wears a hat I would not be caught under at Bag- 
 nigge Wells, were I so imprudent as to go there." 
 
 "Dr. Franklin has weightier matters than hats to occupy 
 him, sir," I retorted. For I was determined to hold my own. 
 
 He made a French gesture, a shrug of his thin shoulders, 
 which caused me to suspect he was not always so good-natured. 
 
 " Dr. Franklin would better have stuck to his newspaper, 
 my young friend," said he. " But I like your appearance too 
 well to quarrel with you, and we'll have no politics before 
 eating. Come, gentlemen, come ! Let us see what Goble has 
 left after his shaking." 
 
 He struck off with something of a painful gait, which he 
 explained was from the gout. And presently we arrived at 
 his parlour, where supper was set out for us. I had not tasted 
 its equal since I left Maryland. We sat down to a capon
 
 ON THE EOAD 211 
 
 stuffed with eggs, and dainty sausages, and hot rolls, such as 
 we had at home; and a wine which had cobvvebbed and mel- 
 lowed under the Castle Inn for better than twenty years. The 
 personage did not drink wine. He sent his servant to quarrel 
 with Goble because he had not been given iced water. While 
 he was tapping on the table I took occasion to observe him. 
 His was a physiognomy to strike the stranger, not by reason of 
 its nobility, but because of its oddity. He had a prodigious 
 length of face, the nose long in proportion, but not prominent. 
 The eyes were dark, very bright, and wide apart, with little 
 eyebrows dabbed over them at a slanting angle. The thin- 
 lipped mouth rather pursed up, which made his smile the con- 
 tradiction it Avas. In short, my dears, while I do not lay claim 
 to the reading of character, it required no great astuteness to 
 perceive the scholar, the man of the world, and the ascetic — • 
 and all affected. His conversation bore out the summary. It 
 astonished us. It encircled the earth, embraced history and 
 letters since the world began. And added to all this, he 
 had a thousand anecdotes on his tongue's tip. His words he 
 chose with too great a nicety ; his sentences were of a foreign 
 formation, twisted around; and his stories were illustrated 
 with French gesticulations. He threw in quotations galore, in 
 Latin, and French, and English, until the captain began casting 
 me odd, uncomfortable looks, as though he wished himself 
 well out of the entertainment. Indeed, poor John Paul's per- 
 turbation amused me more than the gentleman's anecdotes. 
 To be ill at ease is discouraging to any one, but it Avas 
 peculiarly fatal with the captain. This arch-aristocrat dazzled 
 him. When he attempted to follow in the same vein he would 
 get lost. And his really considerable learning counted for 
 nothing. He reached the height of his mortification when the 
 slim gentleman dropped his eyelids and began to yawn. I 
 was wickedly delighted. He could not have been better met. 
 Another such encounter, and I would warrant the captain's 
 illusions concerning the gentry to go up in smoke. Then he 
 might come to some notion of his own true powers. As for 
 me, I enjoyed the supper which our host had insisted upon our 
 partaking, drank his wine, and paid him very little attention.
 
 212 RICHAED CARVEL 
 
 " May I make so bold as to ask, sir, whether you are a patron 
 of literature ? " said the captain, at length. 
 
 "A very poor patron, my dear man," was the answer. 
 <' Merely a humble worshipper at the shrine. And I might 
 say that I partake of its benefits as much as a gentleman may. 
 And yet," he added, with a laugh and a cough, "those silly 
 newspapers and magazines insist on calling me a literary man." 
 
 "And now that you have indulged in a question, and the 
 claret is coming on," said he, " perhaps you will tell me some- 
 thing of yourself, ]\Ir. Carvel, and of your friend, Captain 
 Paul. And how you come to be so far from home." And he 
 settled himself comfortably to listen, as a man who has bought 
 his right to an opera box. 
 
 Here was my chance. And I resolved that if I did not 
 further enlighten John Paul, it would be no fault of mine. 
 
 " Sir," I replied, in as dry a monotone as I could assume, " I 
 was kidnapped by the connivance of some unscrupulous per- 
 sons in my colony, who had designs upon my grandfather's 
 fortune. I was taken abroad in a slaver and carried down to 
 the Caribbean seas, when I soon discovered that the captain 
 and his crew were nothing less than pirates. For one day all 
 hands got into a beastly state of drunkenness, and the captain 
 raised the skull and cross-bones, which he had handy in his 
 chest. I was forced to climb the main rigging in order to 
 escape being hacked to pieces." 
 
 He sat bolt upright, those little eyebrows of his gone up 
 full half an inch, and he raised his thin hands Avith an air of 
 incredulity. John Paul was no less astonished at my little 
 ruse. 
 
 "Holy Saint Clement!" exclaimed our host; "pirates! 
 This begins to have a flavour indeed. And yet you do not 
 seem to be a lad with an imagination. Egad, Mr. Carvel, I had 
 put you down for one who might say, with Alceste: ' Etre 
 franc et sincere est mon plus grand talent.' But pray go on, sir. 
 You have but to call for pen and ink to rival Mr. Fielding." 
 
 With that I pushed back my chair, got up from the table, 
 and made him a bow. And the captain, at last seeing my 
 drift, did the same.
 
 ON THE EOAD 213 
 
 "I am not used at home to liave my word doubted, sir," I 
 said. "Sir, your humble servant. I wish you a very good 
 evening." He rose precipitately, crying out from his gout, and 
 laid a hand upon my arm. 
 
 " Pray, Mr. Carvel, pray, sir, be seated," he said, in some agi- 
 tation. " Remember that the story is unusual, and that I have 
 never clapped eyes on you until to-night. Are all 3^oung gentle- 
 men from Maryland so fiery ? But I should have known from 
 your face that you are incapable of deceit. Pray be seated, 
 captain." 
 
 I was persuaded to go on, not a little delighted that I had 
 scored my point, and broken down his mask of affectation and 
 careless cynicism. I told my story, leaving out the family 
 history involved, and he listened with every mark of attention 
 and interest. Indeed, to my surprise, he began to show some 
 enthusiasm, of which sensation I had not believed him capable. 
 
 " What a find ! what a find ! " he continued to exclaim, when 
 I had finished. " And true. You say it is true, Mr. Carvel ? " 
 
 '' Sir ! " I replied, " I thought we had thrashed that out." 
 
 " Yes, yes, to be sure. I beg pardon," said he. And then 
 to his servant: "Colomb, is my writing-tablet unpacked?" 
 
 I was more mystified than ever as to his identity. Was he 
 going to put the story in a magazine ? 
 
 After that he seemed plainly anxious to. be rid of us. I 
 bade him good night, and he grasped my hand warmly 
 enough. Then he turned to the captain in his most conde- 
 scending manner. But a great change had come over John 
 Paul. He was ever quick to see and to learn, and I rejoiced 
 to remark that he did not bow over the hand, as he might have 
 done two hours since. He was again Captain Paul, the man, 
 who fought his way on his own merits. He held himself as 
 tho' he* was once more pacing the deck of the John. 
 
 The slim gentleman poured the width of a finger of claret in 
 his glass, soused it with water, and held it up. 
 
 "Here's to your future, my good captain," he said, "and to 
 Mr. Carvel's safe arrival home again. When you get to town, 
 Mr. Carvel, don't fail to go to Davenport, who makes clothes for 
 most of us at Almack's, and let him remodel you. I wish to
 
 214 RICHAED CARVEL 
 
 God he might get hold of your doctor. And put up at the 
 Star and Garter in Pall Mall. I take it that you have friends 
 in London." 
 
 I replied that I had. But he did not push the inquiry. 
 
 " You should write out this history for your grandchildren, 
 Mr. Carvel," he added, as he bade his Swiss light us to our 
 room. ''A strange yarn indeed, captain." 
 
 "And therefore," said the captain, coolly, "as a stranger 
 give it welcome. 
 
 " ' There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, 
 Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.' " 
 
 Had a meteor struck at the gentleman's feet, he could not 
 have been more taken aback. 
 
 "What! What's this?" he cried. "You quote Hamlet! 
 And who the devil are you, sir, that you know my name ? " 
 
 "Your name, sir!" exclaims the captain, in astonishment. 
 
 "Well, well," he said, stepping back and eying us closely, 
 " 'tis no matter. Good night, gentlemen, good night." 
 
 And we went to bed with many a laugh over the incident. 
 
 "His name must be Horatio. We'll discover it in the 
 morning," said John Paul.
 
 CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 LONDON TOWN 
 
 But he had not risen when we set out, nor would the ill- 
 natured landlord reveal his name. It mattered little to me, 
 since I desired to forget him as quickly as possible. For here 
 was one of my own people of quality, a gentleman who pro- 
 fessed to believe what I told hun, and yet would do no more 
 for me than recommend me an inn and a tailor ; while a poor 
 sea-captain, driven from his employment and his home, with 
 no better reason to put faith in my story, was sharing with me 
 his last penny. Goble, in truth, had made us pay dearly for 
 our fun with him, and the hum of the vast unknown fell upon 
 our ears with the question of lodging still unsettled. The 
 captain was for going to the Star and Garter, the inn the gen- 
 tleman had mentioned. I was in favour of seeking a more 
 modest and less fashionable hostelry. 
 
 " Remember that you must keep up your condition, Richard," 
 said John Paul. 
 
 " And if all English gentlemen are like our late friend," I 
 said, " I would rather stay in a city coffee-house. Remember 
 that you have only two guineas left after paying for the 
 chaise, and that Mr. Dix may be out of town." 
 
 " And your friends in Arlington Street ? " said he. 
 
 " May be back in Maryland," said I ; and added inwardly, 
 " God forbid ! " 
 
 "We shall have twice the chance at the Star and Garter. 
 They will want a show of gold at a humbler place, and at the 
 Star we may carry matters with a high hand. Pick out the big- 
 gest frigate," he cried, for the tenth time, at least, "or the 
 most beautiful lady, and it will surprise you, my lad, to find 
 out how many times you will win." 
 
 215
 
 216 EICHAED CARVEL 
 
 I know of no feeling of awe to equal that of a stranger 
 approaching for the first time a huge city. The thought of a 
 human multitude is ever appalling as that of infinity itself, — 
 a human multitude with its infinity of despairs and joys, dis- 
 graces and honours, each small unit with all the world in its 
 own brain, and all the world out of it ! Each intent upon his 
 own business or pleasure, and striving the while by hook or 
 crook to keep the ground from slipping beneath his feet. For, 
 if he falls, God help him ! 
 
 Yes, here was London, great and pitiless, and the fear of it 
 was upon our souls as we rode into it that day. 
 
 Holland House with its shaded gardens, Kensington Palace 
 with the broad green acres of parks in front of it stitched by 
 the silver Serpentine, and Buckingham House, which lay to the 
 south over the hill, — all were one to us in wonder as they 
 loomed through the glittering mist that softened all. We met 
 with a stream of countless wagons that spoke of a trade beyond 
 knowledge, sprinkled with the equipages of the gentry floating 
 upon it; coach and chaise, cabriolet and chariot, gorgeously 
 bedecked with heraldry and wreaths ; their numbers astonished 
 me, for to my mind the best of them were no better than we 
 could boast in Annapolis. One matter, which brings a laugh 
 as I recall it, was the oddity to me of seeing white coachmen 
 and footmen. 
 
 We clattered down St. James's Street, of which I had often 
 heard my grandfather speak, and at length we drew up before 
 the Star and Garter in Pall Mall, over against the palace. The 
 servants came hurrying out, headed by a chamberlain clad in 
 magnificent livery, a functionary we had not before encoun- 
 tered. John Paul alighted to face this personage, who, the 
 moment he perceived us, shifted his welcoming look to one of 
 such withering scorn as would have daunted a more timid man 
 than the captain. Without the formality of a sir he demanded 
 our business, which started the inn people and our own boy to 
 snickering, and made the passers-by pause and stare. ^ Dandies 
 who were taking the air stopped to ogle us with their spying- 
 glasses and to offer quips, and behind them gathered the 
 flunkies and chairmen awaiting their masters at the clubs and
 
 LONDON TOWN 217 
 
 coffee-houses near by. What was my astonishment, therefore, 
 to see a change in the captain's demeanour. Truly for quick 
 learning and the application of it I have never known his 
 equal. His air became the one of careless ease habitual to the 
 little gentleman we had met at Windsor, and he drew from his 
 pocket one of his guineas, which he tossed in the man's palm. 
 
 " Here, my man," said he, snapping his fingers ; " an apart- 
 ment at once, or you shall pay for this nonsense, I promise 
 you." And walked in with his chin in the air, so grandly as 
 to dissolve ridicule into speculation. 
 
 For an instant the chamberlain wavered, and I trembled, 
 for I dreaded a disgrace in Pall Mall, where the Manners 
 might hear of it. Then fear, or hope of gain, or something 
 else got the better of him, for he led us to a snug, well- 
 furnished siiite of a parlour and bedroom on the first floor, 
 and stood bowing in the doorway for his honour's further 
 commands. They were of a sort to bring the sweat to my 
 forehead. 
 
 " Have a fellow run to bid Davenport, the tailor, come hither 
 as fast as his legs will carry him. And you may make it 
 known that this young gentleman desires a servant, a good 
 man, mind you, with references, who knows a gentleman's 
 wants. He will be well paid." 
 
 That name of Davenport was a charm, — the mention oi a 
 servant was its finishing touch. The chamberlain bent almost 
 double, and retired, closing the door softly behind him. And 
 so great had been my surprise over these last acquirements of 
 the captain that until now I had had no breath to expostulate. 
 
 " I must have my fling, Kichard," he answered, laughing ; 
 " I shall not be a gentleman long. I must know how it feels 
 to take your ease, and stroke your velvet, and order lackeys 
 about. And when my money is gone I shall be content to go 
 to sea again, and think about it o' stormy nights." 
 
 This feeling was so far beyond ray intelligence that I made 
 no comment. And 1 could not for the life of me chide him, 
 but prayed that all would come right in the end. 
 
 In less than an hour Davenport himself arrived, oristling 
 ■with importance, followed by his man carrying such a variety
 
 218 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 of silks and satins, flowered and plain, and broadcloths and 
 velvets, to fill the furniture. And close behind the tailor came 
 a tall haberdasher from Bond Street, who had got wind of a 
 customer, with a bewildering lot of ruffles and handkerchiefs 
 and neckerchiefs, and bows of lawn and lace which (so he in- 
 formed us) gentlemen now wore in the place of solitaires. 
 Then came a hosier and a bootmaker and a hatter ; nay, I 
 was forgetting a jeweller from Temple Bar. And so imposing 
 a front did the captain wear as he picked this and recom- 
 mended the other that he got credit for me for all he chose, 
 and might have had more besides. For himself he ordered 
 merely a modest street suit of purple, the sword to be thrust 
 through the pocket, Davenport promising it with mine for the 
 next afternoon. For so much discredit had been cast upon 
 his taste on the road to London that he was resolved to re- 
 main indoors until he could appear with decency. He learned 
 quickly, as I have said. 
 
 By the time we had done with these matters, which I wished 
 to perdition, some score of applicants was in waiting for me. 
 And out of them I hired one who had been valet to the young 
 Lord Rereby, and whose recommendation was excellent. His 
 name was Banks, his face open and ingenuous, his stature a 
 little above the ordinary, and his manner respectful. I had 
 Davenport measure him at once for a suit of the Carvel livery, 
 and bade him report on the morrow. 
 
 All this while, my dears, I was aching to be off to Arlington 
 Street, but a foolish pride held me back. I had heard so 
 much of the fa.shion in which the Manners moved that I 
 feared to bring ridicule upon them in poor MacMuir's clothes. 
 But presently the desire to see Dolly took such hold upon me 
 that I set out before dinner, fought my way past the chairmen 
 and chaisemen at the door, and asked my way of the first 
 civil person I encountered. 'Twas only a little rise up the 
 steps of St. James's Street, Arlington Street being but a small 
 pocket of Piccadilly, but it seemed a dull English mile ; and 
 my heart thumped when I reached the corner, and the houses 
 danced before my eyes. I steadied myself by a post and 
 looked again. At last, after a thousand leagues of wandering,
 
 LONDON TOWN 219 
 
 I was near her ! But how to choose between fifty severe and 
 imposing mansions ? I walked on toward that endless race 
 of affairs and fashion, Piccadilly, scanning every door, nay, 
 every window, in the hope that I might behold my lady's face 
 framed therein. Here a chair was set down, there a chariot 
 or a coach pulled up, and a clocked flunky bowing a lady in. 
 But no Dorothy. Finally, when I had near made the round 
 of each side, I summoned courage and asked a butcher's lad, 
 whistling as he passed me, whether he could point out the 
 residence of Mr. Manners. 
 
 " Ay," he replied, looking me over out of the corner of his 
 eye, " that I can. But ye'll not get a glimpse o' the beauty 
 this day, for she's but just off to Kensington with a coachful 
 o' quality." 
 
 And he led me, all in a tremble over his answer, to a large 
 stone dwelling with arched windows, and pillared portico with 
 lanthorns and link extinguishers, an area and railing beside it. 
 The flavour of generations of aristocracy hung about the place, 
 and the big knocker on the carved door seemed to regard with 
 such a forbidding frown my shabby clothes that I took but the 
 one glance (enough to fix it forever in my memory), and hur- 
 ried on. Alas, what hope had I of Dorothy now ! 
 
 " What cheer, Richard ? " cried the captain when I returned ; 
 " have you seen your friends ? " 
 
 I told him that I had feared to disgrace them, and so re- 
 frained from knocking — a decision which he commended as the 
 very essence of wisdom. Though a desire to meet and talk 
 with quality pushed him hard, he would not go a step to the 
 ordinary, and gave orders to be served in our room, thus foster- 
 ing the mystery which had enveloped us since our arrival. 
 Dinner at the Star and Garter being at the fashionable hour of 
 half after four, I was forced to give over for that day the task 
 of finding Mr. Dix. 
 
 That evening — shall I confess it? — I spent between the 
 Green Park and Arlington Street, hoping for a glimpse of Miss 
 Dolly returnmg from Kensington. 
 
 The next morning I proclaimed my intention of going to 
 Mr. Dix.
 
 220 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 " Send for him," said the captain. '* Gentlemen never seelj 
 their men of affairs." 
 
 " No," I cried; " I can contain myself in this place no longer. 
 I must be moving." 
 
 " As you will, Richard," he replied, and giving me a queer, 
 puzzled look he settled himself between the Morning Post and 
 the Chronicle. 
 
 As I passed the servants in the lower hall, I could not but 
 remark an altered treatment. My friend the chamberlain, 
 more pompous than ever, stood erect in the door with a stony 
 stare, which melted the moment he perceived a young gentle- 
 man who descended behind me. I heard him cry out " A 
 chaise for his Lordship ! " at which command two of his assist- 
 ants ran out together. Suspicion had plainly gripped his soul 
 overnight, and this, added to mortified vanity at having been 
 duped, was sufficient for him to allow me to leave the inn un- 
 attended. Nor could I greatly blame him, for you must know, 
 my dears, that at that time London was filled with adventurers 
 of all types. 
 
 I felt a deal like an impostor, in truth, as I stepped into the 
 street, disdaining to inquire of any of the people of the Star 
 and Garter where an American agent might be found. The 
 day was gray and cheerless, the colour of my own spirits as I 
 walked toward the east, knowing that the city lay that way. 
 But I soon found plenty to distract me. 
 
 To a lad such as I, bred in a quiet tho' prosperous colonial 
 town, a walk through London was a revelation. Here in the 
 Pall Mail the day was not yet begun, tho' for some scarce 
 ended. I had not gone fifty paces from the hotel before I came 
 upon a stout gentleman with twelve hours of claret inside him, 
 brought out of a coffee-house and put with vast difficulty into 
 his chair ; and I stopped to watch the men stagger off with 
 their load to St. James's Street. Next I met a squad of red- 
 coated guards going to the palace, and after them a grand 
 coach and six rattled over the Scotch granite, swaying to a de- 
 gree that threatened to shake off the footmen clinging behind. 
 Within, a man with an eagle nose sat impassive, and I set him 
 down for one of the King's ministers.
 
 LONDON TOWN" 221 
 
 Presently I came out into a wide space, which I knew to be 
 Charing Cross by the statue of Charles the First which stood 
 in the centre of it, and the throat of a street which was just in 
 front of me must be the Strand. Here all was life and bustle. 
 On one hand was Golden's Hotel, and a crowded mail-coach 
 was dashing out from the arch beneath it, the horn blowing 
 merrily ; on the other hand, so I was told by a friendly man in 
 brown, was Northumberland House, the gloomy grandeur 
 whereof held my eyes for a time. And I made bold to ask in 
 what district were those who had dealings with the colonies. 
 He scanned me with a puzzling look of commiseration. 
 
 " Ye're not a-going to sell yereself for seven year, my lad ? '' 
 said he. " I was near that myself when I was young, and I 
 thank God to this day that I talked first to an honest man, 
 even as you are doing. They'll give ye a pretty tale, — the 
 factors, — of a land of milk and honey, when it's naught but 
 stripes and curses ye'll get." 
 
 And he was about to rebuke me hotly, when I told him I had 
 come from Maryland, where I was born. 
 
 "Why, ye speak like a gentleman!" he exclaimed. "I was 
 informed that all talk like naygurs over there. And is it not 
 so of your redemptioners ? " 
 
 I said that depended upon the master they got. 
 
 "Then I take it ye are looking for the lawyers, who mostly 
 represent the planters. And ye'll find them at the Temple or 
 Lincoln's Inn." 
 
 I replied that he I sought was not an attorney, but a man 
 of business. Whereupon he said that I should find all those in 
 a batch about the North and South American Coffee House, in 
 Threadneedle Street. And he pointed me into the Strand, 
 adding that I had but to follow my nose to St. Paul's, and 
 there inquire. 
 
 I would I might give you some notion of the great artery of 
 London in those days, for it has changed much since I went 
 down it that heavy morning in April, 1770, fighting my way. 
 Ay, truly, fighting my way, for the street then was no place 
 for the weak and timid, when bullocks ran through it in droves 
 on the way to market, when it was often jammed from wall to
 
 222 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 wall with wagons, and carmen and truckmen and coaclimen 
 swung their whips and cursed one another to the extent of 
 their lungs. Near St. Clement Danes I was packed in a crowd 
 for ten minutes while two of these fellows formed a ring and 
 fought for the right of way, stopping the traffic as far as I 
 could see. Dustmen, and sweeps, and even beggars, jostled 
 you on the corners, bullies tried to push you against the posts 
 or into the kennels ; and once, in Butchers' Row, I was stopped 
 by a flashy, soft-tongued fellow who would have lured me into 
 a tavern near by. 
 
 The noises were bedlam ten times over. Shopmen stood at 
 their doors and cried, " Rally up, rally up, buy, buy, buy ! " 
 venders shouted saloop and barley, furmity, ShrcAvsbury cakes 
 and hot peascods, rosemary and lavender, small coal and seal- 
 ing-wax, and others bawled " Pots to solder ! " and " Knives to 
 grind!" Then there was the incessant roar of the heavy 
 wheels over the rough stones, and the rasp and shriek of the 
 brewers' sledges as they moved clumsily along. As for the. 
 odours, from that of the roasted coffee and food of the taverns, 
 to the stale fish on the stalls, and worse, I can say nothing. 
 They surpassed imagination. 
 
 At length, upon emerging from Butchers' Row, I came upon 
 some stocks standing in the street, and beheld ahead of me a 
 great gateway stretching across the Strand from house to house. 
 Its stone was stained with age, and the stern front of it seemed 
 to mock the unseemly and impetuous haste of the tide rushing 
 through its arches. I stood and gazed, nor needed* one to tell 
 me that those two grinning skulls above it, swinging to the 
 wind on the pikes, were rebel heads. Bare and bleached now, 
 and exposed to a cruel view, but once caressed by loving hands, 
 was the last of those whom devotion to the house of Stuart had 
 brought from their homes to Temple Bar. 
 
 I halted by the Fleet Market, nor could I resist the desire 
 to go into St. Paul's, to feel like a pebble in a bell under its 
 mighty dome ; and it lacked but half an hour of noon when 
 I had come out at the Poultry and finished gaping at the 
 Mansion House. I missed Threadneedle Street and went 
 down Cornhill, in my ignorance mistaking the Royal Ex-
 
 LONDON TOWN 223 
 
 change, with its long piazza and high tower, for the coffee- 
 house I sought: in tlie great hall I begged a gentleman to 
 direct me to Mr. Dix, if he knew such a person. He shrugged 
 his shoulders, which mystified me somewhat, but answered 
 with a ready good-nature that he was likely to be found at 
 that time at Tom's Cotfee House, in Birchin Laue near by, 
 whither I went with him. He climbed the stairs ahead of me 
 and directed me, puffing, to the news room, which 1 found 
 filled with men, some writing, some talking eagerly, and others 
 turning over newspapers. The servant there looked me over 
 with no great favour, but on telling him my business he went 
 off, and returned with a young man of a pink and white com- 
 plexion, in a green riding-frock, leather breeches, and top boots, 
 who said : — 
 
 " Well, my man, I am Mr. Dix." 
 
 There was a look about him, added to his tone and manner, 
 set me strong against him. I knew his father had not been of 
 this stamp. 
 
 *' And I am Mr. Richard Carvel, grandson to Mr. Lionel 
 Carvel, of Carvel Hall, in Maryland," I replied, much in the 
 same way. 
 
 He thrust his hands into his breeches and stared very hard. 
 
 '' You ? " he said finally, with something very near a laugh. 
 
 " Sir, a gentleman's word usually suffices ! " I cried. 
 
 He changed his tone a little. 
 
 "Your pardon, Mr. Carvel," he said, "but we men of busi- 
 ness have need to be careful. Let us sit, and I will examine 
 your letters. Your determination must have been suddenl}' 
 taken," he added, " for I have nothing from Mr. Carvel on the 
 subject of your coming." 
 
 " Letters ! You have heard nothing ! " I gasped, and there 
 stopped short and clinched the table. "Has not my grand- 
 father written of my disappearance ? " 
 
 Immediately his expression went back to the one he had 
 met me with. " Pardon me," he said again. 
 
 I composed myself as best I could in the face of his incredu- 
 lity, swallowing with an effort the aversion I felt to giving him 
 my story.
 
 224 EICHAED CARVEL 
 
 "I think it strange he has not informed you," I said; "I 
 was kidnapped near Annapolis last Christmas-time, and put 
 on board of a slaver, from which I was rescued by great good 
 fortune, and brought to Scotland. And I have but just made 
 my way to London." 
 
 " The thing is not likely, Mr. — , Mr. — ," he said, drumming 
 impatiently on the board. 
 
 Then I lost control of myself. 
 
 " As sure as I am heir to Carvel Hall, Mr. Dix," I cried, 
 rising, "yovi shall pay for your ii^solence by forfeiting your 
 agency ! " 
 
 Now the man was a natural coward, with a sneer for some 
 and a smirk for others. He went to the smirk. 
 
 " I am but looking to Mr. Carvel's interests the best I know 
 how," he replied ; " and if indeed you be Mr. Richard Carvel, 
 then you must applaud my caution, sir, in seeking proofs." 
 
 "Proofs I have none," I cried; "the very clothes on my 
 back are borrowed from a Scotch seaman. My God, Mr. Dix, 
 do I look like a rogue ? " 
 
 " Were I to advance money upon appearances, sir, I should 
 be insolvent in a fortnight. But stay," he cried uneasily, as I 
 flung back my chair, " stay, sir. Is there no one of your prov- 
 ince in the town to attest your identity ? " 
 
 "Ay, that there is," I said bitterly; "you shall hear from 
 Mr. Manners soon, I promise you." 
 
 "Pray, Mr. Carvel," he said, overtaking me on the stairs, 
 "you will surely allow the situation to be — extraordinary, 
 you will surely commend my discretion. Permit me, sir, to 
 go with you to Arlington Street." And he sent a lad in haste 
 to the Exchange for a hackney-chaise, which was soon brought 
 around. 
 
 I got in, somewhat mollified, and ashamed of my heat : still 
 disliking the man, but acknowledging he had the better right 
 on his side. True to his kind he gave me every mark of po- 
 liteness now, asked particularly after Mr. Carvel's health, and 
 encouraged me to give him as much of my adventure as I 
 thought proper. But what with the rattle of the carriage and 
 the street noises and my disgust, I did not care to talk, and
 
 LONDON TOWN 225 
 
 presently told him as much very curtly. He persisted, how- 
 ever, in pointing out the sights, the Fleet prison, and where 
 the Ludgate stood six years gone; and the Devil's Tavern, of 
 old Ben Jonson's time, and the Mitre and the Cheshire 
 Cheese and the Cock, where Dr. Johnson might be found near 
 the end of the week at his dinner. He showed me the King's 
 Mews above Charing Cross, and the famous theatre in the 
 Haymarket, and we had but turned the corner into Piccadilly 
 when he cried excitedly at a passing chariot : — 
 
 " There, Mr. Carvel, there go my Lord North and Mr. Rigby ! " 
 
 "The devil take them, Mr. Dixl " I exclaimed. 
 
 He was silent after that, glancing at me covertly from while 
 to while until we swung into Arlington Street. Before I knew 
 we were stopped in front of the house, but as I set foot on the 
 step I found myself confronted by a footman in the Manners 
 livery, who cried out angrily to our man : " Make way, make 
 way for his Grace of Chartersea ! " Turning, I saw a coach 
 behind, the horses dancing at the rear wheels of the chaise. 
 We alighted hastily, and I stood motionless, my heart jump- 
 ing quick and hard in the hope and fear that Dorothy was 
 within, my eye fixed on the coach door. But when the footman 
 pulled it open and lowered the step, out lolled a very broad 
 man with a bloated face and little, beady eyes without a spark 
 of meaning, and something very like a hump was on the top of 
 his back. He wore a yellow top-coat, and red-heeled shoes of 
 the latest fashion, and I settled at once he was the Duke 
 of Chartersea. 
 
 Next ca,me little Mr. Manners, stepping daintily as ever; 
 and then, as the door closed with a bang, I remembered my 
 errand. They had got halfway to the portico. 
 
 " Mr. Manners ! " I cried. 
 
 He faced about, and his Grace also, and both stared in well- 
 bred surprise. As I live, ]\Ir. Manners looked into m}'" face, — 
 into my very eyes, and gave no sign of recognition. And what 
 between astonishment and anger, and a contempt that arose 
 within me, I could not speak. 
 
 " Give the man a shilling, Manners," said his Grace ; " we 
 can't stay here forever." 
 
 9
 
 226 KICHARD CARVEL 
 
 "Ay, give the man a shilling," lisped Mr, Manners to the 
 footman. And they passed into the house, and the door was 
 shut. 
 
 Then I heard Mr. Dix at my elbow, saying in a soft voice : — 
 
 " Now, my fine gentleman, is there any good reason why you 
 should not ride to Bow Street with me ? " 
 
 "As there is a God i?i heaven, Mr, Dix," I answered, very 
 low, " if you attempt to lay hands on me, you shall answer for 
 it ! And you shall hear from me yet, at the Star and Garter 
 hotel." 
 
 I spun on my heel and left him, nor did he follow ; and a 
 great lump was in my throat and tears welling in my eyes. 
 
 What would John Paul say ?
 
 CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 CASTLE YARD 
 
 But 1 did not go direct to the Star and Garter. No, I lacked 
 the courage to say to John Paul : " You have trusted me, and this 
 is how I have rewarded your faith." And the thought that 
 Dorothy's father, of all men, had served me thus, after what I 
 had gone through, filled me with a bitterness I had never 
 before conceived. And when my brain became clearer I 
 reflected that Mr. Manners had had ample time to learn of my 
 disappearance from Maryland, and that his action had been 
 one of design, and of cold blood. But I gave to Dorothy or 
 her mother no part in it. Mr. Manners never had had cause 
 to hate me, and the only reason I could assign was connected 
 with his Grace of Chartersea, which I dismissed as absurd. 
 
 A few drops of rain warned me to seek shelter. I knew not 
 where I was, nor how long I had been walking the streets at a 
 furious pace. But a huckster told me I was in Chelsea, and 
 kindly directed me back to Pall Mall. The usual bunch of 
 chairmen was around the hotel entrance, but I noticed a 
 couple of men at the door, of sharp features and unkempt 
 dress, and heard a laugh as I went in. Mv head swam as I 
 stumbled up the stairs and fumbled at the knob, when I heard 
 voices raised inside, and the door was suddenly and violently 
 thrown open. Across the sill stood a big, rough-looking man 
 with his hands on his hips. 
 
 " Oho ! Here be the other fine bird a-homing, I'll warrant," 
 he cried. 
 
 The place was full. I caught sight of Davenport, the tailor, 
 with a wry face, talking against the noise ; of Banks, the man 
 I had hired, resplendent in my livery. One of the hotel ser- 
 
 227
 
 228 RICHAED CARVEL 
 
 vaiits was in the corner perspiring over John Paul's chests, 
 and beside him stood a man disdainfully turning over with 
 his foot the contents, as they were thrown on the floor. I saw 
 him kick the precious vellum-hole waistcoat across the room 
 in wrath and disgust, and heard him shout above the rest : — 
 
 " The lot of them would not bring a guinea from any Jew 
 in St. Martin's Lane ! " 
 
 In the other corner, by the writing-desk, stood the hatter 
 and the haberdasher with their heads together. And in the 
 very centre of the confusion was the captain himself. He was 
 drest in his new clothes Davenport had brought, and surprised 
 me by his changed appearance, and looked as fine a gentleman 
 as any I have ever seen. His face lighted with relief at sight 
 of m_e. 
 
 " Now may I tell these rogues begone, Richard ? " he cried. 
 And turning to the man confronting me, be added, "This 
 gentleman will settle their beggarly accounts." 
 
 Then I knew we had to do with bailiffs, and my heart 
 failed me. 
 
 " Likely," laughed the big man , " I'll stake my oath he has 
 not a groat to pay their beggarly accounts, as your honour 
 13 pleased to call them." 
 
 They ceased jabbering and straightened to attention, await- 
 ing my reply. But I forgot them all, and thought only of the 
 captain, and of the trouble I had brought him. He began to 
 show some consternation as I went up to him. 
 
 "My deal friend," I said, vainly trying to steady my voice, 
 " I beg, I pray that you will not lose faith in me, — that you 
 will not think any deceit of mine has brought you to these 
 straits. Mr. Dix did not know me, and has had no word from 
 my grandfather of my disappearance. And Mr. Manners, 
 whom I thought my friend, spurned me in the street before 
 the Duke of Chartersea." 
 
 And no longer master of myself, I sat down at the table and 
 hid my face, shaken by great sobs, to think that this was my 
 return for his kindness. 
 
 "What," I heard him cry, "Mr. Manners spurned you, 
 Richard I By all the law in Coke and Littleton, he shall
 
 CASTLE YARD 229 
 
 answer for it to me. Your fairweather fowl shall have the 
 chance to run me through ! " 
 
 I sat up in bewilderment, doubting my senses. 
 
 " You believe me, captain," I said, overcome by the man's 
 faith ; "you believe me when I tell you that one I have known 
 from childhood refused to recognize me to-day ? " 
 
 He raised me in his arms as tenderly as a woman might. 
 
 "And the whole world denied you, lad, I would not. I 
 believe you — " and he repeated it again and again, unable to 
 get farther. 
 
 And if his words brought tears to my eyes, my strength 
 came with them. 
 
 " Then I care not," I replied ; " only to live to reward you." 
 
 "Mr. Manners shall answer for it to me ! " cried John Paul 
 again, and made a pace toward the door, 
 
 "Not so fast, not so fast, captain, or admiral, or whatever 
 you are," said the bailiff, stepping in his way, for he was used 
 to such scenes ; " as God reigns, the owners of all these fierce 
 titles be fireeaters, who would spit you if you spilt snuff upon 
 'em. Come, come, gentlemen, your swords, and we shall see 
 the sights o' London." 
 
 This was the signal for another uproar, the tailor shrieking 
 that John Paul must take off the suit, and Banks the livery ; 
 asking the man in the corner by the sea-chests (who proved to 
 be the landlord) who was to pay him for his work and his lost 
 cloth. And the landlord shook his fist at us and shouted back, 
 who was to pay him his four pounds odd, which included two 
 ten-shilling dinners and a flask of his best Avine ? The other 
 tradesmen seized what was theirs and made oif with remarks 
 appropriate to the occasion. And when John Paul and my 
 man were divested of their plumes, we were marched down- 
 stairs and out through a jeering line of people to a hackney 
 coach. 
 
 " Now, sirs, whereaway ? " said the bailiff when we were got 
 in beside one of his men, and burning with the shame of it; 
 ^'to the prison? Or I has a very pleasant hotel for gentle- 
 men in Castle Yard." 
 
 The frightful stories my dear grandfather had told me of
 
 230 RICHAED CARVEL 
 
 the Fleet came flooding into my head, and I shuddered and 
 turned sick. I glanced at John Paul. 
 
 ''A guinea will not go far in a spouging-house," said he, and 
 the bailiffs man laughed. 
 
 The bailiff gave a direction we did not hear, and we drove 
 off. He proved a bluff fellow with a blunt yet not unkindly 
 humour, and despite his calling seemed to have something that 
 was human in him. He passed many a joke on that pitiful 
 journey in an attempt to break our despondency, urging us not 
 to be downcast, and reminding us that the last gentleman he 
 had taken from Pall Mall was in over a thousand pounds, and 
 that our amount was a bagatelle. And when we had gone 
 through Temple Bar, instead of keeping on down Fleet Street, 
 we jolted into Chancery Lane. This roused me. 
 
 " My friend has warned you that he has no money," I said, 
 " and no more have I." 
 
 The bailiff regarded me shrewdly. 
 
 " Ay," he replied, " I know. But I has seen many stripes 
 o' men in my time, my masters, and I know them to trust, and 
 them whose silver I must feel or send to the Fleet." 
 
 I told him unreservedly my case, and that he must take his 
 chance of being paid ; that I could not hear from America for 
 three months at least. He listened without much show of 
 attention, shaking his head from side to side. 
 
 " If you ever cheated a man, or the admiral here either, then 
 I begin over again," he broke in with decision; "it is the fine 
 sparks from the clubs I has to watch. You'll not worry, sir, 
 about me. Take my oath I'll get interest out of you on my 
 money." 
 
 Unwilling as we both were to be beholden to a bailiff, the 
 alternative of the Fleet was too terrible to be thought of. And 
 so we alighted after him with a shiver at the sight of the ugly, 
 grimy face of the house, and the dirty windows all barred with 
 double iron. In answer to a knock we were presently admitted 
 by a turnkey to a vestibule as black as a tomb, and the heavy 
 outer door was locked behind us. Then, as the man cursed 
 and groped for the keyhole of the inner door, despair laid hold 
 of me.
 
 CASTLE YARD 231 
 
 Once inside, in the half light of a ijarrow hallway, a variety 
 of noises greeted our :ars, — laughter from above and below, 
 interspersed with oaths; the click of billiard balls, and the 
 occasional hammering of a pack of cards on a bare table before 
 the shuffle. The air was close almost to suffocation, and out 
 of the coffee room, into which I glanced, came a hccivy cloud 
 of tobacco smoke. 
 
 " Why, my masters, why so glum ? " said the bailiff ; '' my 
 inn is not such a bad place, and you'll find ample good com- 
 pany here, I promise you." 
 
 And he led us into a dingy antechamber littered with papers, 
 on every one of which, I daresay, was written a tragedy. Then 
 he inscribed our names, ages, descriptions, and the like in a 
 great book, when we followed him up three flights to a low 
 room under the eaves, having but one small window, and bare 
 of furniture save two narrow cots for beds, a broken chair, and 
 a cracked mirror. He explained that cash boarders got better, 
 and added that we might be happy we were not in the Fleet. 
 
 "We dine at two here, gentlemen, and sup at eight. This 
 is not the Star and Garter," said he as he left us. 
 
 It was the captain who spoke first, though he swallowed 
 twice before the words came out. 
 
 "Come, Richard, come, laddie," he said, "'tis no so bad it 
 micht-na be waiir. We'll mak the maist o' it." 
 
 " I care not for m3'self. Captain Paul," I replied, marvelling 
 i,he more at him, " but to think that I have landed you here, 
 that this is my return for your sacrifice." 
 
 " Hoots ! How was ye to foresee Mr. Manners was a blel- 
 lum ? " And he broke into threats which, if Mr. Marmaduke 
 had heard and comprehended, would have driven him into the 
 seventh state of fear. " Have you no other friends in Lon- 
 don ? " he asked, regaining his English. 
 
 I shook my head. Then came a question I dreaded. 
 
 " And Mr. Manners's family ? " 
 
 " I Avould rather remain here for life," I said, " than apply 
 to them now." 
 
 For pride is often selfish, my dears, and I did not reflect 
 that if 1 remained, the captain would remain likewise.
 
 232 KICHARD CARVEL 
 
 " Are tliej all like Mr. Manners ? " 
 
 " That they are not," I returned with more heat than was 
 necessary; "his wife is goodness itself, and his daughter — " 
 Words failed me, and I reddened. 
 
 "Ah, he has a daughter, you say," said the captain, casting 
 a significauT^ look at me and beginning to pace the little room 
 He was keener than I thought, this John Paul. 
 
 If it were not so painful a task, my dears, I would give you 
 here some notion of what a London sponging-house was in the 
 last century. Comyn has heard me tell of it, and I have seen 
 Bess cry over the story. Gaming was the king-vice of that 
 age, and it filled these places to overflowing. Heaven help a 
 man who came into the world with that propensity in the early 
 days of King George the Third. Many, alas, acquired it before 
 they were come to years of discretion. Next me, at the long 
 table where we were all thrown in together, — all who could 
 not pay for private meals, — sat a poor fellow who had flung 
 away a patrimony of three thousand a year. Another had 
 even mortgaged to a Jew his prospects on the death of his 
 mother, and had been seized by the bailiffs outside of St. 
 James's palace, coming to Castle Yard direct from his Majesty's 
 levee. Yet another, with such a look of dead hope in his eyes 
 as haunts me yet, would talk to us by the hour of the Devon- 
 shire house where he was born, of the green valley and the 
 peaceful stream, and of the old tower-room, caressed by trees, 
 where Queen Bess had once lain under the carved oak rafters. 
 Here he had taken his young wife, and they used to sit together, 
 so he said, in the sunny oriel over the water, and he had sworn 
 to give up the cards. That was but three years since, and then 
 all had gone across the green cloth in one mad night in St. 
 James's Street. Their friends had deserted them, and the 
 poor little woman was lodged in Holborn near by, and came 
 every morning Avith some little dainty to the bailiff's, for her 
 liege lord who had so used her. He pressed me to share a 
 fowl with him one day, but it would have choked me. God 
 knows where she got the money to buy it. I saw her once 
 hanging on his neck in the hall, he trying to shield her from 
 the impudent gaze of his fellow-lodgers.
 
 CASTLE YAED 233 
 
 But some of them lived like lords in luxury, with never 
 a seeming regret ; and had apartments on the first floor, and 
 had their tea and paper in bed, and lounged out the morning 
 in a flowered nightgown, and the rest of the day in a laced 
 coat. These drank the bailiff's best port and champagne, and 
 had nothing better than a frown or haughty look for us, when 
 we passed them at the landing. Whence the piper was paid 
 I knew not, and the bailiff cared not. But the bulk of the 
 poor gentlemen were a merry crew withal, and had thea- wit 
 and their v/ine at table, and knew each other's histories (and 
 soon enough ours) by heart. They betted away the week at 
 billiards or whist or picquet or loo, and sometimes measured 
 swords for diversion, tho' this pastime the bailiff was greatly 
 set against, as calculated to deprive him of a lodger. 
 
 Although we had no money for gaming, and little for wine 
 or tobacco, the captain and I were received very heartily into 
 the fraternity. After one afternoon of despondency we both 
 voted it the worst of bad policy to remain aloof and nurse our 
 misfortune, and spent our first evening in making acquaintances 
 over a deal of very thin " debtor's claret." I tossed long that 
 night on the hard cot, listening to the scurrying rats among 
 the roof-timbers. They ran like the thoughts in my brain. 
 And before I slept I prayed again and again that God would 
 put it in my power to reward him whom charity for a friend- 
 less foundling had ])rought to a debtor's prison. 
 
 Not so much as a single complaint or reproach had passed 
 his lipsl
 
 CHAPTER XXV 
 
 THE RESCUE 
 
 Perchance, my dears, if John Paul and I had not been east 
 by accident in a debtor's prison, this great man might never 
 have bestowed upon our country those glorious services which 
 contributed so largely to its liberty. And I might never have 
 comprehended that the American Revolution was brought on 
 and fought by a headstrong king, backed by unscrupulous fol- 
 lowers who held wealth above patriotism. It is often difficult 
 to lay finger upon the causes which change the drift of a man's 
 opinions, and so I never wholly knew why John Paul aban- 
 doned his deep-rooted purpose to obtain advancement in Lon- 
 don by grace of the accomplishments he had laboured so hard 
 to attain. But I believe the beginning was at the meeting at 
 Windsor with the slim and cynical gentleman who had treated 
 him to something between patronage and contempt. Then my 
 experience with Mr. Manners had so embedded itself in his 
 mind that he could never speak cf it but with impatience and 
 disgust. And, lastly, the bailiff's hotel contained many born 
 gentlemen who had been left here to rot out the rest of their 
 dreary lives by friends who were still in power and opulence. 
 More than once when I climbed to our garret I found the cap- 
 tain seated on the three-legged chair, with his head between 
 his hands, sunk in reflection. 
 
 "You were right, Richard," said he; "your great world is 
 a hard world for those in the shadow of it. I see now that 
 )it must not be entered from below, but from the cabin window. 
 A man may climb around it, lad, and when he is above may 
 8courge it," 
 
 234
 
 THE RESCUE 235 
 
 " And you will scourge it, captain ! " I had no doubt of his 
 ability one day to do it. 
 
 "Ay, and snap my fingers at it. 'Tis a pretty organization, 
 this society, which kicks the man who falls to the dogs. None 
 of your fine gentlemen for me ! " 
 
 And he would descend to talk politics with our fellow-guests. 
 We should have been unhappy indeed had it not been for this 
 pastime. It seems to me strange that these debtors took such 
 a keen interest in outside affairs, even tho' it was a time of 
 great agitation. We read with eagerness the cast-off news- 
 papers of the first-floor gentlemen. One poor devil who had 
 waddled ^ in Change Alley had collected under his mattress the 
 letters of Junius, then selling the Public Advertiser as few 
 publications had ever sold before. John Paul devoured these 
 attacks upon his Majesty and his ministry in a single after- 
 noon, and ere long he had on the tip of his tongue the name 
 and value of every man in Parliament and out of it. He 
 learned, almost by heart, the history of the astonishing fight 
 made by Mr. Wilkes for the liberties of England, and speedily 
 was as good a Whig and a better than the member from Mid- 
 dlesex himself. 
 
 The most of our companions were Tories, for, odd as it may 
 appear, they retained their principles even in Castle Yard. 
 And in those days to be a Tory was to be the friend of the 
 King, and to be the friend of the King was to have some hope 
 of advancement and reward at his hand. They had none. 
 The captain joined forces with the speculator from the Alley, 
 who had hitherto contended against mighty odds, and together 
 they bore down upon the enemy — ay, and routed him, too. 
 For John Paul had an air about him and a natural gift of orar 
 tory to command attention, and shortly the dining room after 
 dinner became the scene of such contests as to call up in the 
 minds of the old stagers a field night in the good days of Mr. 
 Pitt and the second George. The bailiff often sat by the door, 
 an interested spectator, and the macaroni lodgers condescended 
 to come downstairs and listen. The captain attained to fame 
 in our little world from his maiden address, in which he very 
 
 1 Failed.
 
 236 EICHARD CARVEL 
 
 shrewdly separated the political character of Mr. Wilkes from 
 his character as a private gentleman, and so refuted a charge 
 of profligacy against the people's champion. 
 
 Altho' I never had sufficient confidence in my powers to 
 join in these discussions, I followed them zealously, especially 
 when they touched American questio.is, as they frequently did. 
 This subject of the wrongs of the colonies was the only one I 
 could ever be got to study at King William's School, and I 
 believe that my intimate knowledge of it gave the captain 
 a surprise. He fell into the habit of seating himself on the 
 edge of my bed after we had retired for the night, and would 
 hold me talking until the small hours upon the injustice of tax- 
 ing a people without their consent, and upon the multitude of 
 measures of coercion which the King had pressed vipon us to 
 punish our resistance. He declaimed so loudly against the 
 tyranny of quartering troops upon a peaceable state that our 
 exhausted neighbours were driven to pounding their walls and 
 ceilings for peace. The news of the Boston massacre had not 
 then reached England. 
 
 I was not, therefore, wholly taken by surprise when he said 
 to me one night : — 
 
 " I am resolved to try my fortune in America, lad. That is 
 the land for such as I, where a man may stand upon his OAvn 
 merits." 
 
 " Indeed, we shall go together, captain," I answered heart- 
 ily, " if we are ever free of this cursed house. And you shall 
 taste of our hospitality at Carvel Hall, and choose that career 
 which pleases you. Faith, I could j)oint you a dozen exam- 
 ples in Annapolis of men who have made their way without 
 influence. But joix shall have influence," I cried, glowing at 
 the notion of rewarding him ; " you shall experience Mr. Car- 
 vel's gratitude and mine. You shall have the best of our ships, 
 and you will." 
 
 He was a man to take fire easily, and embraced me. And, 
 strange to say, neither he nor I saw the humour, nor the pity, 
 of the situation. How many another would long before have 
 become sceptical of my promises ! And justly. For I had 
 led him to London, spent all his savings, and then got him
 
 THE RESCUE 237 
 
 into a miserable prison, and yet he had faith remaining, and 
 to spare ! 
 
 It occurred to me to notify Mr. Dix of my residence in 
 Castle Yard, not from any hope that he would turn his hand 
 to my rescue, but that he might know where to lind me if he 
 heard from Maryland. And I penned another letter to ]\Ir. 
 Carvel, but a feeling I took no pains to define compelled me to 
 withhold an account of Mr. Manners's conduct. And I re- 
 frained from telling him that I was in a debtor's prison. For 
 I believe the thought of a Carvel in a debtor's prison would 
 have killed him. I said only that we were comfortably lodged 
 in a modest part of London ; that the Manners were inaccessi- 
 ble (for I could .not bring myself to write that they were out 
 of town). Just then a thought struck me with such force that 
 I got up with a cheer and hit the astonished captain between 
 the shoulders. 
 
 " How now ! " he cried, ruefully rubbing himself. " If these 
 are thy amenities, Eichard, Heaven spare me thy blows." 
 
 '' Why, I have been a fool, and worse," I shouted. " My 
 grandfather's ship, the Sprightly Bess, is overhauling this win- 
 ter in the Severn. And unless she has sailed, which I think 
 unlikely, I have but to des})atch a line to Bristol to summon 
 Captain Bell, the master, to London. I think he will bring 
 the worthy Mr. Dix to terms." 
 
 " Whether he will or no," said John Paul, hope lighting his 
 face, " Bell must have command of the twenty pounds to free 
 us, and will take us back to America. For I must own, Rich- 
 ard, that I have no great love for London." 
 
 No more had I. I composed this letter to Bell in such haste 
 that my hand shook, and sent it off with a shilling to the bail- 
 iff's servant, that it might catch the post. And that after- 
 noon we had a two-shilling bottle of port for dinner, which we 
 shared with a broken-down parson who Lad been chaplain in 
 ordinary to my Lord Wortley, and who had preached us an 
 Easter sermon the day before. For it was Easter Monday. 
 Our talk was broken into by the bailiff, who informed me that 
 a man awaited me in the passage, and my heart leaped into my 
 throat.
 
 238 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 There was Banks. Thinking he had come to reproach me 
 I asked him rather sharply what he wanted. He shifted his 
 hat from one liand to the other and looked sheepish. 
 
 "Your pardon, sir," said he, "but your honour must be 
 very ill-served here." 
 
 " Better than I should be, Banks, for I have no money," I 
 said, wondering if he thought me a first-floor lodger. 
 
 He made no immediate reply to that, either, but seemed more 
 aneasy still. And I took occasion to note his appearance. He 
 was exceeding neat in a livery of his old master, which he had 
 stripped of the trimmings. Then, before I had guessed at his 
 drift, he thrust his hand inside his coat and drew forth a pile 
 of carefully folded bank notes. 
 
 " I be a single man, sir, and has small need of this. And — 
 and I knows your honour will pay me when your letter comes 
 from America." 
 
 And he handed me five Bank of England notes of ten pounds 
 apiece. I took them mechanically, without knowing what I 
 did. The generosity of the act benumbed my senses, and for 
 the instant I was inclined to accept the offer upon the impulse 
 of it. 
 
 "How do you know you would get your money again, 
 Banks ? " I asked curiously. 
 
 " No fear, sir," he replied promptl}^, actually brightening at 
 the prospect. "I knows gentlemen, sir, them that are such, 
 sir. And I will go to America with you, atid you say the 
 word, sir." 
 
 I was more touched than I cared to show over his offer, 
 which I scarce knew how to refuse. In truth it was a difficult 
 task, for he pressed me again and again, and when he saw me 
 firm, turned away to wipe his eyes upon his sleeve. Then he 
 begged me to let him remain and serve me in the sponging- 
 house, saying that he would pay his own way. The very 
 thought of a servant in the bailiff's garret made me laugh, and 
 so I put him off, first getting his address, and promising him 
 employment on the day of my release. 
 
 On Wednesday we looked for a reply from Bristol, if not 
 for the appearance of Bell himself, and when neither came
 
 THE RESCUE 239 
 
 apprehension seized us lest he had already sailed for Mary- 
 land. The slender bag of Thursday's letters contained none 
 for me. Nevertheless, we both did our best to keep in humour, 
 forbearing to mention to one another the hope that had gone. 
 Eriday seemed the beginning of eternity ; the day dragged 
 through I know not how, and toward evening we climbed 
 back to our little room, not daring to speak of what we knew 
 in our hearts to be so, — that the Spriglitly Bess had sailed. We 
 sat silently looking out over the dreary stretch of roofs and 
 down into a dingy court of Bernard's Inn below, when sud- 
 denly there arose a commotion on the stairs, as of a man 
 mounting hastily. The door was almost flung from its hinges, 
 some one caught me by the shoulders, gazed eagerly into my 
 face, and drew back. For a space I thought myself dreaming. 
 I searched my memory, and the name came. Had it been 
 Dorothy, or Mr. Carvel himself, I could not have been more 
 astonished, and my knees weakened under me. 
 
 "Jack ! " I exclaimed ; " Lord Corny n ! " 
 
 He seized my hand. " Yes ; Jack, whose life you saved, 
 and no other," he cried, with a sailor's impetuosity. '"'My 
 God, Richard ! it was true, then ; and you have been in this 
 place for three weeks ! " 
 
 " For three weeks," I repeated. 
 
 He looked at me, at John Paul, who was standing by in 
 bewilderment, and then about the grimy, cobwebbed walls of 
 the dark garret, and then turned his back to hide his emotion, 
 and so met the bailiff, who was coming in. 
 
 " For how much are these gentlemen in your books ? " he 
 demanded hotly. 
 
 "A small matter, your Lordship, — a mere trifle," said tht 
 man, bowing. 
 
 *' How much, I say ? " 
 
 "Twenty-two guineas, five shillings, and eight pence, my 
 Lord, counting debts, and board, — and interest," the bailiff 
 glibly replied ; for he had no doubt taken off the account when 
 he spied his Lordship's coach. " And I was very good to Mr, 
 Carvel and the captain, as your Lordship will discover — " 
 
 *'D — n your goodness!" said my Lord, cutting him short
 
 240 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 And he pulled out a wallet and threw some pieces at the bailiff, 
 bidding him get change with all haste. "And now, Richard," 
 he added, with a glance of disgust about him, " pack up, and 
 we'll out of this cursed hole ! " 
 
 " I have nothing to pack, my Lord," I said. 
 
 " My Lord ! Jack, I have told you, or I leave you here." 
 
 ''Well, then. Jack, and you will," said I, overflowing with 
 thankfulness to God for the friends He had bestowed upon me. 
 " But before we go a step. Jack, you must know the man but 
 for whose bravery I should long ago have been dead of fever 
 and ill-treatment in the Indies, and whose generosity has brought 
 him hither. My Lord Comyn, this is Captain John Paul." 
 
 The captain, who had been quite overwhelmed by this 
 sudden arrival of a real lord to our rescue at the very moment 
 when we had sunk to despair, and no less astonished by the 
 intimacy that seemed to exist between the newcomer and my- 
 self, had the presence of mind to bend his head, and that was 
 all. Comyn shook his hand heartily. 
 
 "You shall not lack reward for this, captain, I promise 
 you," cried he. "What you have done for Mr. Carvel, you 
 have done for me. Captain, I thank you. You shall have 
 my interest." 
 
 I flushed, seeing John Paul draw his lips together. But 
 how was his Lordship to know that he was dealing with no 
 common sea-captain ? 
 
 " I have sought no reward, my Lord," said he. " What I 
 have done was out of friendship for Mr. Carvel, solely." 
 
 Comyn was completely taken by surprise by these words, 
 and by the haughty tone in which they were spoken. He had 
 not looked for a gentleman, and no wonder. He took a quizzi- 
 cal sizing of the sky-blue coat. Such a man in such a station 
 was out of his experience. 
 
 " Egad, I believe you, captain," he answered, in a voice 
 which said plainly that he did not. " But he shall be rewarded 
 nevertheless, eh, Richard ? I'll see Charles Fox in this matter 
 to-morrow. Come, come," he added impatiently, " the bailiff 
 must have his change by now. Come, Richard ! " and he led 
 the way down the winding stairs.
 
 THE EESCUE 241 
 
 " You must not take offence at his ways," I whispered to the 
 captain. For I well knew that a year before I should have 
 taken the same tone with one not of my class. "His Lordship 
 is all kindness." 
 
 " I have learned a bit since I came into England, Richard," 
 was his sober reply. 
 
 'Twas a pitiful sight to see gathered on the landings the poor 
 fellows we had come to know in Castle Yard, whose horizons 
 were then as gray as ours was bright. But they each had a 
 cheery word of congratulation for us as we passed, and the 
 unhappy gentleman from Devonshire pressed my hand and 
 begged that I would sometime think of him when I was out 
 under the sky. I promised even more, and am happy to be able 
 to say, my dears, that I saw both him and his wife off for Amer- 
 ica before I left London. Our eyes were wet when we reached 
 the lower hall, and I was making for the door in an agony to 
 leave the place, when the bailiff came out of his little office. 
 
 " One moment, sir," he said, getting in front of me ; " there 
 is a little form yet to be gone through. The haste of gentle- 
 laen to leave us is not flattering." 
 
 He glanced slyly at Comyn, and his Lordship laughed a little, 
 1 stepped unsuspectingly into the office. 
 
 " Richard ! " 
 
 [ stopped across the threshold as tlio' I had been struck. 
 The late sunlight filtering through the dirt of the window fell 
 upon the tall figure of a girl and lighted an upturned face, and 
 I saw tears glistening on the long lashes. 
 
 It was Dorothy. Her hands were stretched out in welcome, 
 and then I had them pressed in my own. And I could only 
 look and look again, for I was dumb with joy. 
 
 " Thank God you are alive ! " she cried ; " alive and well, 
 when we feared you dead. Oh, Richard, we have been 
 miserable indeed since we had news of your disappearance." 
 
 " This is worth it all, Dolly," I said, only brokenly. 
 
 She dropped her eyes, which had searched me through in 
 wonder and pity, — those eyes I had so often likened to the 
 deep blue of the sea, — and her breast rose and fell quickly 
 with I knew not what emotions. How the mind runs, and the
 
 242 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 heart runs, at such a time ! Here was the same Dorothy I had 
 known in Maryland, and yet not the same. For she was a 
 woman now, who had seen the great world, who had refused 
 both titles and estates, — and perchance accepted them. She 
 drew her hands from mine. 
 
 '' And how came yoa in such a place ? " she asked, turning 
 with a shudder. " Did you not know you had friends in Lon- 
 don, sir ? " 
 
 Not for so much again would I have told her of Mr. Man- 
 ners's conduct. So I stood confused, casting about for a reply 
 with truth in it, when Comyn broke in upon us. 
 
 " I'll warrant you did not look for her here, Richard. Faith, 
 but you are a lucky dog," said my Lord, shaking his head in 
 mock dolef ulness ; "for there is no man in London, in the 
 world, for whom she would descend a flight of steps, save you. 
 And now she has driven the length of the town when she heard 
 you were in a sponging-house, nor all the dowagers in May fair 
 could stop her." 
 
 " Fie, Comyn," said my lady, blushing and gathering up her 
 skirts ; " that tongue of yours had hung you long since had it 
 not been for your peer's privilege. Richard and I were brought 
 up as brother and sister, and you know you were full as keen 
 for his rescue as I." 
 
 His Lordship pinched me playfully. 
 
 " I vow I would pass a year in the Fleet to have her do aa 
 much for me," said he. 
 
 " But where is the gallant seaman who saved you, Richard ? " 
 asked Dolly, stamping her foot. 
 
 " What," I exclaimed ; " you know the story ? '* 
 
 "Never mind," said she; "bring him here." 
 
 My conscience smote me, for I had not so much as thought 
 of John Paul since I came into that room. I found him wait= 
 mg in the passage, and took him by the hand. 
 
 " A lady wishes to know you, captain," I said. 
 
 " A lady ! " he cried. " Here ? Impossible ! " And he looked 
 at his clothes. 
 
 "Who cares more for your heart than your appearance," I 
 answered gayly, and led him into the office.
 
 THE RESCUE 243 
 
 At sight of Dorothy he stopped abruptly, confounded, as a 
 man wlio sees a diamond in a dust-lieap. And a glow came 
 over me as I said : — 
 
 " Miss Manners, here is Captain Paul, to whose courage and 
 unselfishness I owe everything." 
 
 " Captain," said Dorothy, graciously extending her hand, 
 "Richard has many friends. You have put us all in your 
 debt, and none deeper than his old playmate." 
 
 The captain fairly devoured her with his eyes as she made 
 him a curtsey. But he was never lacking in gallantry, and 
 was as brave on such occasions as when all the dangers of the 
 deep threatened him. With an elaborate movement he took 
 Miss Manners's fingers and kissed them, and then swept the 
 floor with a bow. 
 
 "To have such a divinity in my debt, madam, is too much 
 happiness for one man," he said. "I have done nothing to 
 merit it. A lifetime were all too short to pay for such a 
 favour." 
 
 I had almost forgotten Miss Dolly the wayward, the mis- 
 chievous. But she was before me now, her eyes sparkling, 
 and biting her lips to keep down her laughter. Comyn turned 
 to fleck the window with his handkerchief, while I was not a 
 little put out at their mirth. But if John Paul observed it, he 
 gave no sign. 
 
 " Captain, I vow your manners are worthy of a Frenchman," 
 said my Lord ; " and yet I am given to understand you are a 
 Scotchman." 
 
 A shadow crossed the captain's face. 
 
 " I was, sir," he said. 
 
 "You were!" exclaimed Comyn, astonished; "and pray, 
 what are you now, sir ? " 
 
 " Henceforth, my Lord," John Paul replied with vast cere- 
 mony, "I am an American, the compatriot of the beautiful 
 Miss Manners ! " 
 
 " One thing I'll warrant, captain," said his Lordship, " that 
 you are a wit,"
 
 CHAPTEK XXVI 
 
 THE PART HORATIO PLAYED 
 
 The bailiff's business was quickly settled. I heard the 
 heavy doors close at our backs, and drew a deep draught of 
 the air God has made for all His creatures alike. Both the 
 captain and I turned to the windows to wave a farewell to the 
 sad ones we were leaving behind, who gathered about the bars 
 for a last view of us, for strange as it may seem, the mere 
 sight of happiness is often a pleasure for those who are sad. 
 A. coach in private arms and livery was in waiting, surrounded 
 by a crowd. They made a lane for us to pass, and stared at 
 the young lady of queenly beauty coming out of the sponging- 
 house until the coachman snapped his whip in their faces and 
 the footman jostled them back. When we were got in, Dolly 
 and I on the back seat, Comyn told the man to go to Mr. 
 Manners's. 
 
 " Oh, no ! " I cried, scarce knowing what I said ; " no, not 
 there ! " For the thought of entering the house in Arlington 
 Street was unbearable. 
 
 Both Comyn and Dorothy gazed at me in astonishment. 
 
 "And pray, Richard, why not?" she asked. "Have not 
 your old friends the right to receive you ? " 
 
 It was my Lord who saved me, for I was in agony what to 
 say. 
 
 " He is still proud, and won't go to Arlington Street dressed 
 like a bargeman. He must needs plume. Miss Manners." 
 
 I glanced anxiously at Dorothy, and saw that she was 
 neither satisfied nor appeased. Well I remembered every turn 
 of her head, and every curve of her lip ! In the meantime we 
 were off through Cursitor Street at a gallop, nearly causing the 
 
 244
 
 THE PART HOKATIO PLAYED 245 
 
 death of a ragged urchin at the corner of Chancery Lane. I 
 had forgotten my eagerness to know whence they had heard 
 of my plight, when some words from Comyn aroused me. 
 
 "The carriage is Mr. Horace Walpole's, Richard. He has 
 taken a great fancy to you." 
 
 " But I have never so much as clapped eyes upon him ! " I 
 exclaimed in perplexity. 
 
 " How about his honour with whom you supped at Windsor ? 
 how about the landlord you s])un by the neck ? You should 
 have heard the company laugli when Horry told us that ! And 
 Miss Dolly cried out that she was sure it must be Richard, 
 and none other. Is it not so, INIiss Manners ? " 
 
 " Really, my Lord, I can't remember," replied Dolly, looking 
 out of the coach window. " Who put those frightfid skulls 
 upon Temple Bar ? " 
 
 Then the mystery of their coming was clear to me, and the 
 superior gentleman at the Castle Inn had been the fashionable 
 dabbler in arts and letters and architecture of Strawberry Hill, 
 of whom I remembered having heard Dr. Courtenay speak, 
 Horace Walpole. But I was then far too concerned about 
 Dorothy to listen to more. Her face was still turned away 
 from me, and she was silent. I could have cut out my tongue 
 for my blunder. Presently, when we were nearly out of the 
 Strand, she turned upon me abruptly. 
 
 " We have not yet heard, Richard," she said, " how you got 
 into such a predicament." 
 
 "■ Indeed, I don't know myself, Dolly. Some scoundrel 
 bribed the captain of the slaver. For I take it Mr. Walpole 
 has told you I was carried off on a slaver, if he recalled that 
 much of the story." 
 
 "I don't mean that," answered Dolly, impatiently. "There 
 is something strange about all this. How is it that you were 
 in prison ? " 
 
 "Mr. Dix, my grandfather's agent, took me for an im- 
 postor and would advance me no money," I answered, hard 
 pushed. 
 
 But Dorothy had a woman's instinct, which is often the best 
 of understanding. And I was beginning to think that a sus-
 
 246 EICHARD CARVEL 
 
 picion was at the bottom of her questions. She gave her head 
 an impatient fling, and, as I feared, appealed to John Paul. 
 
 '' Perhaps you can tell me, captain, why he did not come to 
 his friends in his trouble." 
 
 And despite my signals to him he replied : — 
 
 " In truth, my dear lady, he haunted the place for a sight 
 of you, from the moment he set foot in London." 
 
 Comyn laughed, and I felt the blood rise to my face, 
 and kicked John Paul viciously. Dolly retained her self- 
 possession. 
 
 " Pho ! " says she ; " for a sight of me ! You seamen are all 
 alike. Por a sight of me ! And had you not strength enough 
 to lift a knocker, sir, — you who can raise a man from the 
 ground with one hand ? " 
 
 '• 'Twas before his tailor had prepared him, madam, and he 
 feared to disgrace you," the captain gravely continued, and I 
 perceived how futile it were to attempt to stop him. " And 
 afterward — " 
 
 " And afterward ? " repeated Dorothy, leaning forward. 
 
 "And afterward he went to Arlington Street with Mr. Dix 
 to seek Mr. Manners, that he might be identified before that 
 gentleman. And there he encountered Mr. Manners and his 
 Grace of Something." 
 
 " Chartersea," put in Comyn, who had been listening eagerly. 
 
 " Getting out of a coach," said the captain. 
 
 " When was this ? " demanded Dorothy of me, interrupting 
 him. Her voice was steady, but the colour had left her face. 
 
 " About three weeks ago." 
 
 " Please be exact, Richard." 
 
 "Well, if you must," said I, "the day was Tuesday, and 
 the time about half an hour after two." 
 
 She said nothing for a vvdiile, trying to put down an agita- 
 tion which was beginning to show itself in spite of her effort. 
 As for me, I was almost wishing myself back in the sponging- 
 house. 
 
 " Are you sure my father saw you ? " she asked presently. 
 
 "As clearly as you do now, Dolly," I said. 
 
 " But your clothes ? He might have gone by you in such."
 
 THE PART HORATIO PLAYED 247 
 
 " I pray that lie did, Dorothy," I replied. But I was wholly 
 convinced that Mr, Manners had recognized me. 
 
 " And — and what did he say ? " she asked. 
 
 For she had the rare courage that never shrinks from the 
 truth. I think I have never admired and pitied her as at that 
 moment. 
 
 " He said to the footman," I answered, resolved to go through 
 with it now, " ' Give the man a shilling.' That was his Grace's 
 suggestion." 
 
 My Lord uttered something very near an oath. And she 
 spoke not a word more until I handed her out in Arlington 
 Street. The rest of us were silent, too, Comyn now and again 
 giving me eloquent glances expressive of what he would say if 
 she were not present ; the captain watching her with a furtive 
 praise, and he vowed to me afterward she was never so beau- 
 tiful as when angry, that he loved her as an avenging Diana. 
 But I was vmeasy, and when I stood alone with her before the 
 house I begged her not to speak to her father of the episode. 
 
 " Nay, he must be cleared of such an imputation, Richard," 
 she answered proudly. '' He may have made mistakes, but I 
 feel sure he would never turn you away when you came to 
 him in trouble — you, the grandson of his old friend, Lionel 
 Carvel." 
 
 " Why bother over matters that are past and gone ? I 
 would have borne an hundred such trials to have you come to 
 me as you came to-day, Dorothy. And I shall surely see you 
 again," I said, trying to speak lightly ; •' and your mother, to 
 whom you will present my respects, before I sail for America." 
 
 She looked up at me, startled. 
 
 *' Before you sail for America ! " she exclaimed, in a tone 
 that made me thrill at once with joy and sadness. " And are 
 you not, then, to see London now you are here ? " 
 
 " Are you never coming back, Dolly ? " I whispered ; for I 
 feared Mr. Marmaduke might appear at any moment ; " or do 
 you wish to remain in England always ? " 
 
 For an instant I felt her pressure on my hand, and then she 
 had fled into the house, leaving me standing by the steps look- 
 ing after her. Comyn's voice aroused me.
 
 248 EICHARD CARVEL 
 
 " To the Star and Garter ! " I heard him command, and on 
 the way to Pall Mall he ceased not to rate Mr, Manners with 
 more vigour than propriety. *' I never liked the little cur, 
 d — n him! No one likes him, Richard," he declared. "All 
 the town knows how Chartersea threw a bottle at him, and 
 were it not for his daughter he had long since been put out of 
 White's. Were it not for Miss Dolly I would call him out for 
 this cowardly trick, and then publish him." 
 
 " Nay, my Lord, I had held that as my privilege," interrupted 
 the captain, " were it not, as you say, for Miss Manners." 
 
 His Lordship shot a glance at John Paul somewhat divided 
 between surprise, resentment, and amusement. 
 
 " Now you have seen the daughter, captain, you perceive it 
 is impossible," I hastened to interpose. 
 
 " How in the name of lineage did she come to have such 
 a father ? " Comyn went on. " I thank Heaven he's not mine. 
 He's not fit to be her lackey. I would sooner twenty times 
 have a profligate like my Lord Sandwich for a parent than a 
 milk and water sop like Manners, Avho will risk nothing over 
 a crown piece at play or a guinea at Newmarket. By G — , 
 Richard," said his Lordship, bringing his fist against the glass 
 with near force enough to break the pane, " I have a notion 
 why he did not choose to see you that day. Why, he has no 
 more blood than a louse ! " 
 
 I had come to the guess as soon as he, but I dared not give 
 it voice, nor anything but ridicule. And so we came to the 
 hotel, the red of departing day fading in the sky above the 
 ragged house-line in St. James's Street. 
 
 It was a very different reception we got than when we had 
 first come there. You, my dears, who live in this Republic 
 can have no notion of the stir and bustle caused by the arrival 
 of Horace Walpole's carriage at a fashionable hotel, at a time 
 when every innkeeper was versed in the arms of every family 
 of note in the three kingdoms. Our friend the chamberlain was 
 now humility itself, and fairly ran in his eagerness to antici- 
 pate Comyn's demands. It was " Yes, my Lord," and " To be 
 sure, your Lordship," every other second, and he seized the first 
 occasion to make me an elaborate apology for his former cold
 
 THE PART HORATIO PLAYED 249 
 
 conduct, assuring me that had our honours been pleased to 
 divulge the fact that we had friends in Loudon, such friends 
 as my Lord Comyn and Mr. Walpole, whose great father he 
 had once had the distinction to serve as linkman, all would 
 have been well. And he was desiring me particularly to com- 
 prehend that he had been acting under most disagreeable 
 orders when he sent for the bailiff, before I cut him short. 
 
 We were soon comfortably installed in our old rooms ; Co- 
 myn had sent post-haste for Davenport, who chanced to be his 
 own tailor, and for the whole army of auxiliaries indisjDensa- 
 ble to a gentleman's make-up ; and Mr. Dix was notified that 
 his Lordship would receive him at eleven on the following 
 morning, in my rooms. I remembered the faithful Banks 
 with a twinge of gratitude, and sent for him. And John Paul 
 and I, having been duly installed in the clothes made for i^s, 
 all three of us sat down merrily to such a supper as only the 
 cook of the Star and Garter, who had been chef to the Comte 
 de Maurepas, could prepare. Then I begged Comyn to relate 
 the story of our rescue, which I burned to hear. 
 
 " Why, Richard," said he, filling his glass, " had you run 
 afoul any other man in London, save perchance Selwyn, you'd 
 have been drinking the bailiff''s triple-diluted for a month to 
 come. I never knew such a brace of fools as he and Horry 
 for getting hold of strange yarns and making them stranger ; 
 the wonder was that Horry told this as straight as he did. 
 He has written it to all his friends on the Continent, and had 
 he not been in dock with the gout ever since he reached town, 
 he would have told it at the opera, and at a dozen routs and 
 suppers. Beg pardon, captain," said he, turning to John Paul, 
 " but I think 'twas your peacock coat that saved you both, for 
 it caught Horry's eye through the window, as you got out of 
 the chaise, and down he came as fast as he could hobble. 
 
 " Horry had a little dinner to-day in Arlington Street, 
 where he lives, and Miss Dorothy was there. I have told you, 
 Richard, there has been no sensation in town equal to that of 
 your Maryland beauty, since Lady Sarah Lennox. You may 
 have some notion of the old beau Horry can be when he tries, 
 and he is over-fond of Miss Dolly — she puts him in mind of
 
 250 RICHAED CARVEL 
 
 some canvas or other of Sir Peter's. He vowed he had been 
 saving this pi^ce de resistance, as he was pleased to call it, 
 expressly for her, since it had to do somewhat with Mary- 
 land. ' What d'ye think I met at Windsor, Miss Manners ? ' 
 he cries, before we had begun the second course. 
 
 " ' Perhaps a repulse from his Majesty,' says Dolly, promptly. 
 
 " ' Nay,' says Mr. Walpole, making a face, for he hates a 
 laugh at his cost ; ' nothing less than a young American giant, 
 with the attire of Dr. Benjamin Franklin and the manner of 
 the Pauxbourg Saint Germain. But he had a whift" of deer 
 leather about him, and shoulders and back and legs to make 
 his fortune at Hockley in the Hole, had he lived two genera- 
 tions since. And he had with him a strange, Scotch sea-cap- 
 tain, who had rescued him from pirates, bless you, no less. 
 That is, he said he was a sea-captain ; but he talked French 
 like a Parisian, and quoted Shakespeare like Mr. Burke or 
 Dr. Johnson. He may nave been M. Caron de Beaumarchais, 
 for I never saw him, or a soothsayer, or Cagliostro the magi- 
 cian, for he guessed my name.' 
 
 " ' Guessed your name ! ' we cried, for the story was out Oi 
 the ordinary. 
 
 " ' Just that,' answered he, and repeated some damned verse 
 I never heard, with Horatio in it, and made them all laugh." 
 
 John Paul and I looked at each other in astonishment, and 
 we, too, laughed heartily. It was indeed an odd coincidence. 
 
 His Lordship continued : — 
 
 " ' Well, be that as it may,' said Horry, ' he was an able man 
 of sagacity, this sea-captain, and, like many another, had a 
 penchant for being a gentleman. But he Av^as more of an 
 oddity than Hertford's beast of Gevaudan, and was dressed 
 like Salvinio, the monkey my Lord Holland brought back 
 from his last Italian tour.' " 
 
 I have laughed over this description since, my dears, and 
 so has John Paul. But at that time I saw nothing funny in 
 it, and winced with him when Comyn repeated it with such 
 brutal unconsciousness. However, young Englishmen of birth 
 and wealth of that day were not apt to consider the feelings 
 of those they deemed below them.
 
 THE PART HORATIO PLAYED 25J 
 
 " Come to your story, Comyn," I cut in testily. 
 
 But his Lordsliip missed entirely the cause of my diS' 
 pleasure. 
 
 " Listen to him ! " he exclaimed good-naturedly. <' He will 
 hear of nothing but Miss Dolly. Well, Richard, my lad, you 
 should have seen her as Horry went on to tell that you had 
 been taken from Maryland, with her head forward and her lips 
 parted, and a light in those eyes of hers to make a man fall 
 down and worship. For Mr. Lloyd^ or some one in your Colony, 
 had written of your disappearance, and I vow Miss Dorothy 
 has not been the same since. Nor have I been the only one to 
 remark it," said he, waving off my natural protest at such ex- 
 travagance. " We have talked of you more than once, she and 
 I, and mourned you for dead. But I am off my course again, 
 as we sailors say, captain. Horry was describing how Richard 
 lifted little Goble by one hand and spun all the dignity out of 
 him, when Miss Manners broke in, being able to contain her- 
 self no longer. 
 
 " ' An American, Mr. Walpole, and from Maryland ? ' she 
 demanded. And the way she said it made them all look at her. 
 
 '^ ' Assur^ment, mademoiselle,^ replied Horry, in his cursed 
 French ; ' and perhaps you know him. He would gladden the 
 heart of Frederick of Prussia, for he stands six and three if an 
 inch. I took such a fancy to the lad that I invited him to sup 
 with me, and he gave me back a message fit for Mr. Wilkes to 
 send to his Majesty, as haughty as you choose, that if I desired 
 him I must have his friend in the bargain. You Americans 
 are the very devil for independence, Miss Manners ! 'Ods fish, 
 I liked his spirit so much I had his friend. Captain something 
 or other — ' and there he stopped, caught by Miss Manners's 
 appearance, for she was very white. 
 
 "•'The name \s Richard Carvel!^ she cried. 
 
 " ' I'll lay a thousand it was ! ' I shouted, rising in my chair. 
 And the company stared, and Lady Pembroke vowed I had 
 gone mad. 
 
 " ' Bless me, bless me, here's a romance for certain ! ' cried 
 Horry ; ' it throws my " Castle of Otranto " in the shade ' (that's 
 some damned book he has written," Comyn interjected). " You
 
 252 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 may not believe me, Richard, when I say that Miss Dolly ate 
 but little after that, and her colour came and went like the red 
 of a stormy sunset at sea. ' Here's this dog Richard come to 
 spill all our chances,' I swore to myself. The company had 
 been prodigiously entertained by the tale, and clamoured for 
 more, and when Horry had done I told how you had fought 
 me at Annapolis, and had saved my life. But Miss Manners 
 sat very still, biting her lip, and I knew she was sadly vexed 
 that you had not gone to her in Arlington Street. For a 
 woman will reason thus," said his Lordship, winking wisely. 
 " But I more than suspected something to have happened, so 
 I asked Horry to send his fellow Favre over to the Star and 
 Garter to see if you were there, tho' I was of three minds to 
 let you go to the devil. You should have seen her face when 
 he came back to say that you had been for three weeks in a 
 Castle Yard sponging-house ! Then Horry said he would lend 
 me his coach, and when it was brought around Miss Manners 
 took our breaths by walking downstairs and into it, nor would 
 she listen to a word of the objections cried by my Lady Pem- 
 broke and the rest. You must know there is no stopping the 
 beauty when she has made her mind. And while they were 
 all chattering on the steps I jumped in, and off we drove, and 
 you will be the most talked-of man in London to-morrow. I 
 give you Miss Manners ! " cried his Lordship, as he ended. 
 
 We all stood to the toast, I with my blood a-tingle and my 
 brain awhirl, so that I scarce knew what I did.
 
 CHAPTER XXVII 
 
 nr WHICH I AM SOKE TEMPTED 
 
 " Who the devil is this John Paul, and what is to become 
 of him ? " asked Comyn, as I escorted him downstairs to a 
 chair. " You must give him two hundred pounds, or a thou- 
 sand, if you like, and let him get out. He can't be coming 
 to the clubs with you." 
 
 And he pulled me into the coffee room after him. 
 
 "You don't understand the man, Comyn," said I; "he isn't 
 that kind, I tell you. What he has done for me is out of 
 friendship, as he says, and he wouldn't touch a farthing save 
 what I owe him." 
 
 " Cursed if he isn't a rum sea-captain," he answered, shrug- 
 ging his shoulders ; " cursed if I ever ran foul of one yet who 
 would refuse a couple of hundred and call quits. What's he 
 to do ? Is he to live like a Lord of the Treasury upon a mas- 
 ter's savings ? " 
 
 " Jack," said I, soberly, resolved not to be angry, " I would 
 willingly be cast back in Castle Yard to-night rather than 
 desert him, who might have deserted me twenty times to his 
 advantage. Mr. Carvel has not wealth enough, nor I grati- 
 tude enough, to reward him. But if our family can make his 
 fortune, it shall be made. And I am determined to go with 
 him to America by the first packet I can secure." 
 
 He clutched my arm with an earnestness to startle me. 
 
 " You niust not leave England now," he said. 
 
 " And why ? " 
 
 "Because she will marry Chartersea if you do. And take 
 my oath upon it, you alone can save her from that." 
 
 " Nonsense ! " I exclaimed, but my breath caught sharply, 
 
 253
 
 254 EICHARD CARVEL 
 
 "Listen, Richard. Mr. Manners's manoeuvres are the talk 
 of the town, and the beast of a duke is forever wining and 
 dining in Arlington Street. At first people ridiculed, now 
 they are giving credit. It is said," he whispered fearfully, 
 " it is said that his Grace has got Mr. Manners in his power, 
 — some question of honour, you understand, which will ruin 
 him, — and that even now the duke is in a position to force the 
 marriage." 
 
 He leaned forward and searched me with his keen gray 
 eyes, as tho' watching the effect of the intelligence upon me. 
 I was, indeed, stunned. 
 
 "Now, had she refused me fifty times instead of only 
 twice," my Lord continued, " 1 could not wish her such a fate 
 as that vicious scoundrel. And since she will not have me, I 
 would rather it were you than any man alive. For she loves 
 you, Richard, as surely as the world is turning." 
 
 " Oh, no ! " I replied passionately ; " you are deceived by 
 the old liking she has always had for me since we were chil- 
 dren together." I was deeply touched by his friendship. " But 
 tell me how that could affect this marriage with Chartersea. I 
 believe her pride capable of any sacrifice for the family honour." 
 
 He made a gesture of impatience that knocked over a 
 candlestick. 
 
 " There, curse you, there you are again ! " he said, " show- 
 ing how little you know of women and of their pride. If she 
 were sure that you loved her, she would never marry Char- 
 tersea or any one else. She has had near the whole of London 
 at her feet, and toyed with it. Now she has been amusing 
 herself with Charles Fox, but I vow she cares for none of 
 them. Titles, fame, estates, will not move her." 
 
 " If she were sure that I loved her ! " I repeated, dazed by 
 what he was saying. " How you are talking, Comyn ! " 
 
 " Just that. Ah, how I know her, Richard ! She can be 
 reckless beyond notion. And if it were proved fo her that 
 you were in love with Miss Swain, the barrister's daughter 
 over whom we were said to have fought, she would as soon 
 marry Chartersea, or March, or the devil, to show you how 
 little she cared."
 
 IN WHICH I AM SORE TEMPTED 266 
 
 "With Patty Swain!" I exclaimed. 
 
 " But if she knew you did not care a rope's end for Patty, 
 Mr, Mavmaduke and his reputation might go into exile to- 
 gether," he continued, without heeding. "So much for a 
 woman's pride, I say. The day the news of your disappear- 
 ance arrived, Richard, she was starting out with a party to 
 visit Lord Carlisle's seat. Castle Howard. Not -^ step would 
 she stir, though Mr. Marmaduke whined and coaxed and 
 threatened. And I swear to you she ha;, never been the same 
 since, though few but I know why. I might tell you more, my 
 lad, were it not a breach of confidence." 
 
 " Then don't," I said ; for I would not let my feelings 
 run. 
 
 " Egad, then, I will ! " he cried impetuously, " for the end 
 justifies it. You must know that after the letter came from 
 Mr. Lloyd, we thought you dead. I could never get her to 
 speak of you until a fortnight ago. We both nad gone with a 
 party to see Wanstead and dine at the Spread Eagle upon the 
 Forest, and I stole her away from the company and led her out 
 under the trees. My God, Richard, how beautiful she was in 
 the wood with the red in her cheeks and the wind blowing her 
 black hair! For the second time I begged her to be Lady 
 Comyn. Fool that I was, I thought she wavered, and my 
 heart beat as it never will again. Then, as she turned away, 
 from her hand slipped a little gold-bound purse, and as I 
 picked it up a clipping from a ncAvspaper fluttered out. 'Pon 
 my soul, it was that very scandalous squib of the Maryland 
 Gazette about our duel! I handed it back with a bow. I 
 dared not look up at her face, but stood with my eyes on the 
 ground, waiting. 
 
 "'Lord Comyn,' says she, presently, with a quiver in her 
 voice, 'before I give you a reply you must first answer, on 
 your word as a gentleman, what I ask you.' 
 
 " I bowed again. 
 
 "'Is it true that Richard Carvel was in love with Miss 
 Swain ? ' she asked." 
 
 " And you said, Comyn," I broke in, unable longer to contain 
 myself, "you said — "
 
 256 KICHARD CARVEL 
 
 " I said : * Dorothy, if I were to die to-morrow, I would swear 
 Richard Carvel loved you, and you only.' " 
 
 His Lordship had spoken with that lightness which hides 
 only the deepest emotion. 
 
 " And she refused you ? " I cried. *' Oh, surely not for 
 that ! " 
 
 *' And she did well," said my Lord. 
 
 I bowed my head on my arms, for I had gone through a 
 great deal that day, and this final example of Comyn's gen- 
 erosity overwhelmed me. Then I felt his hand laid kindly on 
 my shoulder, and I rose up and seized it. His eyes were dim, 
 as were mine. 
 
 " And now, will you go to Maryland and be a fool ? " asked 
 his Lordship. 
 
 I hesitated, sadJy torn between duty and inclination. John 
 Paul could, indeed, go to America without me. Next the 
 thought came over me in a flash that my grandfather might be 
 ill, or even dead, and there would be no one to receive the cap- 
 tain. I knew he would never consent to spend the season at 
 the Star and Garter at my expense. And then the image of 
 the man rose before me, of him who had given me all he 
 owned, and gone with me so cheerfully to prison, though he 
 knew me not from the veriest adventurer and impostor. I 
 was undecided no longer. 
 
 "I must go. Jack," I said sadly; "as God judges, I must." 
 
 He looked at me queerly, as if I were beyond his compre- 
 hension, picked up his hat, called out that he would see me in 
 the morning, and was gone. 
 
 I went slowly upstairs, threw off my clothes mechanically, 
 and tumbled into bed. The captain had long been asleep. 
 By the exertion of all the will power I could command, I was 
 able gradually to think more and more soberly, and the more 
 I thought, the more absurd, impossible, it seemed that I, a 
 rough provincial not yet of age, should possess the heart of a 
 beauty who had but to choose from the best of all England. 
 An hundred times I went over the scene of poor Comyn's pro- 
 posal, nay, saw it vividly, as though the whole of it had been 
 acted before me : and as I became calmer, the plainer I per-
 
 IN WHICH I AM SORE TEMPTED 257 
 
 ceived that Dorothy, thinking me dead, was willing to let 
 Comyn believe that she had loved me, and had so eased the 
 soreness of her refusal. Perhaps, in truth, a sentiment had 
 sprung up in her breast when she heard of my disappearance, 
 which she mistook for love. But surely the impulse that sent 
 her to Castle Yard was not the same as that Comyn had de- 
 picted: it was merely the survival of the fancy of a little girl 
 in a grass-stained frock, who had romped on the lawn at Carvel 
 Hall. I sighed as I remembered the sun and the flowers and 
 the blue Chesapeake, and recalled the very toss of her head 
 when she had said she would marry nothing less than a duke, 
 
 Alas, Dolly, perchance it was to be nothing more than a 
 duke ! The bloated face and beady eyes and the broad crooked 
 back I had seen that day in Arlington Street rose before me, 
 — I should know his Grace of Chartersea again were I to meet 
 him in purgatory. AVas it, indeed, possible that I could pre- 
 vent her marriage with this man ? I fell asleep, repeating the 
 query, as the dawn was sifting through the blinds. 
 
 I awakened late. Banks was already there to dress me, to 
 congratulate me as discreetly as a well-trained servant should ; 
 nor did he remind me of the fact that he had offered to lend 
 me money, for Avhich omission I liked him the better. In the 
 parlour I found the captain sipping his chocolate and reading 
 his morning Chronicle, as though all his life he had done noth- 
 ing else. 
 
 " Good morning, captain." And fetching him a lick on the 
 back that nearly upset his bowl, I cried as heartily as I could : 
 "Egad, if our luck holds, we'll be sailing before the week is 
 out." 
 
 But he looked troubled. He hemmed and hawed, and finally 
 broke out into Scotch : — 
 
 " Indeed, laddie, ye'll no be leaving Miss Dorothy for me." 
 
 " What nonsense has Comyn put into your head ? " I de- 
 manded, with a stitch in my side ; " I am no more to Miss 
 Manners than — " 
 
 " Than John Paul ! Faith, ye'll not make me believe that. 
 Ah, Richard," said he, " ye're a sly dog. You and I have been 
 as thick these twa months as men can well live, and never ?»
 
 258 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 word out of you of the most sublime creature that walks. 1 
 have seen women in many countries, lad, beauties to set 
 thoughts afire and swords a-play, — and 'tis not her beauty 
 alone. She hath a spirit for a queen to covet, and air and 
 carriage, too." 
 
 This eloquent harangue left me purple. 
 
 " I grant it all, captain. She has but to choose her title and 
 estate." 
 
 " Ay, and I have a notion which she'll be choosing." 
 
 '' The knowledge is worth a thousand pounds at the least," I 
 replied. " I will lend you the sum, and warrant no lack of 
 takers." 
 
 " Now the devil fly off with such temperament ! And I had 
 half the encouragement she has given you, I would cast anchor 
 on the spot, and they might hang and quarter me to move me. 
 But I know you well," he exclaimed, his manner changing, 
 *'you are making this great sacrifice on my account. And I 
 will not be a drag on your pleasures, Richard, or stand in the 
 way of your prospects." 
 
 " Captain Paul," I said, sitting down beside him, " have I 
 deserved this from you ? Have I shown a desire to desert you 
 now that my fortunes have changed ? I have said that you 
 shall taste of our cheer at Carvel Hall, and have looked for- 
 ward this long while to the time when I shall take you to my 
 grandfather and say: 'Mr. Carvel, this is he whose courage 
 and charity have restored you to me, and me to you.' And he 
 will have changed mightily if you do not have the best in 
 Maryland. Should you wish to continue on the sea, you shall 
 have the Belle of the Wye, launched last year. 'Tis time Cap- 
 tain Elliott took to his pension." 
 
 The captain sighed, and a gleam I did not understand came 
 into his dark eyes. 
 
 " I would that God had given me your character and your 
 heart, Richard," he said, "in place of this striving thing I 
 have within me. But 'tis written that a leopard cannot change 
 his spots." 
 
 " The passage shall be booked this day," I said. 
 
 That morning was an eventful one. Comyn arrived first,
 
 IN WHICH I AM SORE TEMPTED 259 
 
 dressed in a suit of mauve French cloth that set off his fine figure 
 to great advantage. He regarded me keenly as he entered, as if 
 to discover Avhether I had changed my mind over night. And 
 I saw he was not in the best of tempers. 
 
 " And when do you sail ? " he cried. " I have no doubt you 
 have sent out already to get passage." 
 
 ** I have been trying to persuade Mr. Carvel to remain in 
 London, my Lord," said the captain. " I tell him he is leaving 
 his best interests behind him." 
 
 "I fear that for once you have undertaken a task beyond 
 your ability, Captain Paul," was the rather tart reply. 
 
 " The captain has a ridiculous idea that he is the cause of my 
 going," I said quickly. 
 
 John Paul rose somewhat abruptly, seized his hat and bowed 
 to his Lordship, and in the face of a rain sallied out, remarking 
 that he had as yet seen nothing of the city. 
 
 " Jack, you must do me the favour not to talk of this in John 
 Paul's presence," I said, when the door had closed. 
 
 "If he doesn't suspect why yoiware going, he has more stu- 
 pidity than I gave him credit for," Comyn answered gruffly. 
 
 " I fear he does suspect," I said. 
 
 His Lordship went to the table and began to write, leaving 
 me to the Chronicle, the pages of which I did not see. Then 
 came Mr. Dix, and such a change I had never beheld in mortal 
 man. In place of the would-be squire I had encountered in 
 Threadneedle Street, here was an unctuous person of business 
 in sober gray ; but he still wore the hypocritical smirk with 
 no joy in it. His bow was now all respectful obedience, 
 Comyn acknowledged it with a curt nod. 
 
 Mr. Dix began smoothly, where a man of more honesty 
 would have found the going difficult. 
 
 " Mr. Carvel," he said, rubbing his hands, " I wish first to 
 express my profound regrets for what has happened." 
 
 " Curse your regrets," said Comyn, bluntly. " You come 
 here on business. Mr. Carvel does not stand in need of regrets 
 at present." 
 
 " I was but on the safe side of Mr. Carvel's money, my 
 Lord."
 
 260 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 "Ay, I'll warrant you are always on the safe side of 
 money," replied Comyn, with a laugh. " What I wish to know, 
 Mr. Dix," he continued, " is whether you are willing to take 
 my word that this is Mr. Richard Carvel, the grandson and 
 heir of Lionel Carvel, Esquire, of Carvel Hall in Maryland? " 
 
 " I am your Lordship's most obedient servant," said Mr. Dix. 
 
 "Confound you, sir! Can you or can you not answer a 
 simple question ? " 
 
 Mr. Dix straightened. He may have spoken elsewhere of 
 asserting his dignity. 
 
 " I would not presume to doubt your Lordship's word." 
 
 " Then, if I were to be personally responsible for such sums 
 as Mr. Carvel may need, I suppose you would be willing to ad- 
 vance them to him." 
 
 " Willingly, willingly, my Lord," said Mr. Dix, and added 
 immediately : " Your Lordship will not object to putting that in 
 writing ? Merely a matter of form, as your Lordship knows, but 
 we men of affairs are held to a strict accountability." 
 
 Comyn made a movement of disgust, took up a pen and 
 wrote out the indorsement. 
 
 " There," he said. " You men of affairs will at least never 
 die of starvation." 
 
 Mr. Dix took the paper with a low bow, began to shower me 
 with protestations of his fidelity to my grandfather's interests, 
 which were one day to be my own, — he hoped, with me, not 
 soon, — drew from his pocket more than sufficient for my imme- 
 diate wants, said that I should have more by a trusty messen- 
 ger, and was going on to clear himself of his former neglect 
 and indifference, when Banks announced : — 
 
 " His honour, Mr. Manners ! " 
 
 Comyn and I exchanged glances, and his Lordship gave a low 
 whistle. Nor was the circumstance without its effect upon Mr. 
 Dix. With my knowledge of the character of Dorothy's father 
 I might have foreseen this visit, which came, nevertheless, as 
 a complete surprise. For a moment I hesitated, and then 
 made a motion to show him iip. Comyn voiced my decision. 
 
 "Why let the little cur stand in the way?" he said; "he 
 counts for nothing."
 
 IN WHICH I AM SORE TEMPTED 261 
 
 Mr. MarmacUike was not long in ascending, and tripped into 
 the room as Mr. Dix backed out of it, as gayly as tho' lie had 
 never sent me about my business in the street. His clothes, of 
 a cherry cut velvet, were as ever a little beyond the fashion, 
 and he carried something I had never before seen, then used 
 by the extreme dandies in London, — an umbrella. 
 
 " What ! Richard Carvel ! Is it possible ? " he screamed in 
 his piping voice. " W^e mourned you for dead, and here you 
 turn up in London alive and well, and bigger and stronger than 
 ever. Oons ! one need not go to Scripture for miracles. I 
 shall write my congratulations to Mr. Carvel this day, sir." 
 
 And he pushed his fingers into my waistcoat, so that Com^-n 
 and I were near to laughing in his face. For it was impossible 
 to be angry with a little coxcomb of such pitiful intelligence. 
 
 " Ah, good morning, my Lord. I see your Lordship has risen 
 early in the same good cause, — I myself am up two hours be- 
 fore my time. You will pardon the fuss I am making over 
 the lad, Comyn, but his grandfather is my very dear friend, 
 and Richard was brought up with my daughter Dorothy. 
 They were like brother and sister. What, Richard, you will 
 not take my hand ! Surely you are not so unreasonable as to 
 hold against me that unfortunate circumstance in Arlington 
 Street! Yes, Dorothy has shocked me. She has told me 
 of it." 
 
 Comyn winked at me as I replied : — 
 
 " We shan't mention it, Mr. Manners. I have had my three 
 weeks in prison, and perhaps know the world all the better for 
 them." 
 
 He held up his umbrella in mock dismay, and stumbled ab- 
 ruptly into a chair. There he sat looking at me, a whimsical 
 uneasiness on his face. 
 
 " We shall indeed mention it, sir. Three weeks in prison, to 
 think of it I And you would not so much as send me a line. 
 Ah, Richard, pride is a good thing, but I sometimes think we 
 from Maryland have too much of it. We shall indeed speak 
 of the matter. Out of justice to me you must understand how 
 it occurred. You must know that I am deucedly absent- 
 minded^ and positively lost without my glass. And I had
 
 262 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 somebody with me, so Dorothy said. Chartersea, I believe. 
 And his Grace made me think you were a cursed beggar. 1 
 make a point never to have to do with 'em." 
 
 " You are riglit, Mr. Manners," Comyn cut in dryly ; " for 1 
 have known them to be so ]3ersistently troublesome, when once 
 encouraged, as to interfere seriously with our arrangements." 
 
 " Eh ! " Mr. Manners ejaculated, and then came to an ab* 
 rupt pause, while I wondered whether the shot had told. To 
 relieve him I inquired after Mrs. Manners's health. 
 
 "Ah, to be sure," he replied, beginning to fumble in his 
 skirts ; "London agrees with her remarkably, and she is better 
 than she has been for years. And she is overjoyed at youi 
 most wonderful escape, Richard, as are we all." 
 
 And he gave me a note. I concealed my eagerness as I took 
 it and broke the seal, to discover that it was not from Dorothy, 
 but from Mrs. Manners herself. 
 
 " My dear Richard " (so it ran), " 1 thank God with your dear 
 Grandfather over j'v Deliverance, & you must bring y'r Deliv- 
 erer, whom Dorothy describes as Courtly and Gentlemanly de- 
 spite his Calling, to dine with us this very Day, that we may 
 express to him our Gratitude. I know you are far too Sensible 
 not to come to Arlington Street. I subscribe myself, Richard, 
 
 y'r sincere Friend, 
 
 « Margaret Manners." 
 
 There was not so much as a postscript from Dolly, as I had 
 hoped. But the letter was whole-souled, like Mrs. Manners, 
 and breathed the affection she had always had for me. I hon- 
 oured her the more that she had not attempted to excuse Mr 
 Manners's conduct. 
 
 " You will come, Richard ? " cried Mr. Marmaduke, with an 
 attempt at heartiness. " You must come, and the captain, too. 
 For I hear, with regret, that you are not to be long with us." 
 
 I caught another significant look from Comyn from between 
 the window curtains. But I accepted for myself, and condi 
 tionally for John Paul. Mr. Manners rose to take his leave. 
 
 " Dorothy will be glad to see you," he said. " I often think, 
 Richard, that she tires of these generals and King's ministers,
 
 IN WHICH I AM SORE TEMPTED 263 
 
 and longs for a romp at Wilmot House again. Alas," he sighed, 
 offering us a pinch of snuff (which he said was the famous 
 Number 37), " alas, she has had a deal too much of attention, 
 with his Grace of Chartersea and a dozen others wild to marry 
 her. I fear she will go soon," and he sighed again. " Upon 
 my soul I cannot make her out. I'll lay something handsome, 
 my Lord, that the madcap adventure with you after Eichard 
 sets the gossips going. One day she is like a schoolgirl, and I 
 blame myself for not taking her mother's advice to send her to 
 Mrs. Terry, at Campden House ; and the next, egad, she is as 
 difficult to approach as a crowned head. Well, gentlemen, I 
 give you good day, I have an appointment at White's. I am 
 happy to see you have fallen in good hands, Richard. My 
 Lord, your most obedient! " 
 
 " He'll lay something handsome I " said my Lord, when the 
 4oor had closed behind him
 
 CHAPTEE XXVIII 
 
 ARLINGTON STREET 
 
 The sun having come out, and Jolm Paul not returning by 
 two, — being ogling, I supposed, the ladies in Hyde Park, — I 
 left him a message and betook myself with as great trepidation 
 as ever to Dorothy's house. The door was opened by the iden- 
 tical footman who had so insolently offered me money, and I 
 think he recognized me, for he backed away as he told me the 
 ladies were not at home. But I had not gone a dozen paces in 
 my disappointment when I heard him running after me, asking 
 if my honour were Mr. Eichard Carvel. 
 
 " The ladies will see your honour," he said, and conducted 
 me back into the house and up the wide stairs. I had heard 
 that Arlington Street was known as the street of the King's 
 ministers, and I surmised that Mr. Manners had rented this 
 house, and its furniture, from some great man who had gone 
 out of office, plainly a person of means and taste. The hall, like 
 that of many of the great town-houses, was in semi-darkness, 
 but I remarked that the stair railing was of costly iron-work 
 and polished brass ; and, as I went up, that the stone niches in 
 the wall were filled with the busts of statesmen, and I recog- 
 nized among these, that of the great Walpole. A great copper- 
 gilt chandelier hung above. But the picture of the drawing- 
 room I was led into, with all its colours, remains in the eye of 
 my mind to this day. It was a large room, the like of Avhich 
 I had never seen in any private residence of the New World, 
 sitiiated in the back of the house. Its balcony overlooked the 
 fresh expanse of the Green Park. Upon its high ceilii; s, floated 
 Venus and the graces, by Zucchi ; and the mantel, u],-ni which 
 ticked an antique and curious French clock, v/as carved marble. 
 
 264
 
 ARLINGTON STREET 265 
 
 On the gilt panels of the walls were wreaths of red roses. At 
 least a half-dozen tall mirrors, framed in rococos, were placed 
 about, tne largest taking the space between the two high win- 
 dows on the park side. And underneath it stood a gold cabi- 
 net, lacquered by Martin's inimitable hand, in the centre of 
 which was set a medallion of porcelain, with the head in dark 
 blue of his Majesty, Charles the First. The chairs and lounges 
 were marquetry, — satin-wood and mahogany, — with seats and 
 backs of blue brocade. The floor was polished to the degree 
 of danger, and on the walls hung a portrait by Van Dycke, an- 
 other, of a young girl, by Richardson, a landscape by the Dutch 
 artist Ruysdael, and a water-colour by Zaccarelli. 
 
 I had lived for four months the roughest of lives, and the 
 room brought before me so sharply the contrast between my 
 estate and the grandeur and elegance in which Dorothy lived, 
 that my spirits fell as I looked about me. In front of me was 
 a vase of flowers, and beside them on the table lay a note " To 
 Miss Manners, in Arlington Street," and sealed with a ducal 
 crest. I was unconsciously turning it over, when something 
 impelled me to look around. There, erect in the doorway, 
 stood Dolly, her eyes so earnestly fixed upon me that I dropped 
 the letter with a start. A faint colour moimted to her crown of 
 black hair. 
 
 "And so you have come, Richard," she said. Her voice 
 was low, and tho' there was no anger in it, the tone seemed 
 that of reproach. I wondered whether she thought the less of 
 me for coming. 
 
 " Can you blame me for wishing to see you before I leave, 
 Dolly ? " I cried, and crossed quickly over to her. 
 
 But she drew a step backward. 
 
 "Then it is true that you are going," said she, this time with 
 a plain note of coldness. 
 
 " I must, Dorothy." 
 
 " When ? " 
 
 " As soon as I can get passage." 
 
 She passed me and seated herself on the lounge, leaving me 
 to stand like a lout before her, ashamed of my youth and of 
 the clumsiness of my great body.
 
 266 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 "Ah, Richard," she laughed, "confess to your old play- 
 mate ! I should like to know how many young men of wealth 
 and family would give up the pleasures of a London season 
 were there not a strong attraction in Maryland." 
 
 How I longed to tell her that I would give ten years of my 
 life to remain in England: that duty to John Paul took me 
 home. But I was dumb. 
 
 " We should make a macaroni of you to amaze our colony," 
 said Dolly, lightly, as I sat down a great distance away ; " to 
 accept my schooling were to double your chances when you 
 return, Richard. You should have cards to everything, and 
 my Lord Comyn or Mr. Fox or some one would introduce you at 
 the clubs. I vow you would be a sensation, with your height 
 and figure. You should meet all the beauties of England, and 
 perchance," she added mischievously, " perchance you might 
 be taking one home with you." 
 
 ''Nay, Dolly," I answered; "I am not your match in 
 jesting." 
 
 " Jesting ! " she exclaimed, " I was never more sober. But 
 where is your captain ? " 
 
 I said that I hoped that John Paul would be there shortly. 
 
 " How fanciful he is ! And his conversation, — one might 
 think he had acquired the art at Marly or in the Eauxbourg. 
 In truth, he should have been born on the far side of the Chan- 
 nel. And he has the air of the great man," said she, glancing 
 up at me, covertly. "For my part, I prefer a little more 
 bluntness." 
 
 I was nettled at the speech. Dorothy had ever been quick 
 to seize upon and ridicule the vulnerable oddities of a char- 
 acter, and she had all the contempt of the great lady for those 
 who tried to scale by pleasing arts. I perceived with regret 
 that she had taken a prejudice. 
 
 "There, Dorothy," I cried, "not even you shall talk so of 
 the captain. For you have seen him at his worst. There are 
 not many, I warrant you, born like him a poor gardener's son 
 who rise by character and ability to be a captain at three and 
 twenty. And he will be higher yet. He has never attended 
 any but a parish school, and still has learning to astonish Mr.
 
 ARLINGTON STREET 267 
 
 Walpole, learning which he got under vast difficulties. He is 
 a gentleman, I say, far above many I have known, and he is 
 a man. If you would know a master, you should see him on 
 his own ship. If you would know a gentleman, you should 
 have been with me in his mother's cottage." And, warming as 
 I talked, I told her .of that saddest of all home-comings to the 
 little cabin under Criffel's height. 
 
 Small wonder that I adored Dorothy ! Would that I could 
 paint her moods, that I might describe the strange light in her 
 eyes when I had finished, that I might tell how in an instant 
 she was another woman. She rose impulsively and took a 
 chair at my side, and said : — 
 
 "'Tis so I love to hear you speak, Richard, when j^ou up- 
 hold the absent. For I feel it is so you must champion me 
 when I am far away. My dear old playmate is ever the same, 
 strong to resent, and seeing ever the best in his friends. For- 
 give me, Richard, I have been worse than silly. And will 
 you tell me that story of your adventures which I long to 
 learn ? " 
 
 Ay, that I would. I told it her, and she listened silently, 
 save only now and then a cry of wonder or of sympathy that 
 sounded sweet to my ears, — just as I had dreamed of her 
 listening when I used to pace the deck of the brigantine John, 
 at sea. And when at length I had finished, she sat looking 
 out over the Green Park, as tho' she had forgot my presence. 
 
 And so Mrs. Manners came in and found us. 
 
 It had ever pleased me to imagine that Dorothy's mother 
 had been in her youth like Dorothy. She had the same tall 
 figure, grace in its every motion, and the same eyes of deep 
 blue, and the generous but well-formed mouth. A man may 
 pity, but cannot conceive the heroism that a woman of such a 
 mould must have gone through who has been married since 
 early girlhood to a man like Mr. Manners. Some women would 
 have been driven quickly to frivolity, and worse, but this one 
 had struggled year after year to maintain an outward serenity 
 to a critical world, and had succeeded, tho' success had cost 
 her dear. Each trial had deepened a line of that face, had 
 done its share to subdue the voice which had once rung like
 
 268 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 Dorothy's ; and in the depths of her eyes lingered a sadness 
 indefinable. 
 
 She gazed upon me with that kindness and tenderness I had 
 always received since the days when, younger and more beauti- 
 ful than now, she was the companion of my mother. And the 
 anbidden shadow of a thought came to ■ me that these two 
 sweet women had had some sadness in common. Many a 
 summer's day I remembered them sewing together in the 
 spring-house, talking in subdued voices which were hushed 
 when I came running in. And lo ! the same memory was on 
 Dorothy's mother then, half expressed as she laid her hands 
 upoa my shoulders. 
 
 " Poor Elizabeth ! " she said, — not to me, nor yet to Dorothy ; 
 ■■< I wish that she might have lived to see you now. It is 
 Captain Jack again." 
 
 She sighed, and kissed me. And I felt at last that I had 
 come home after many wanderings. We sat down, mother 
 and daughter on the sofa with their fingers locked. She did 
 not speak of Mr. Manners's conduct, or of my stay in the 
 sponging-house. And for this I was thankful. 
 
 " I have had a letter from Mr. Lloyd, Richard," she said. 
 
 " And my grandfather ? " I faltered, a thickness in my 
 throat. 
 
 "My dear boy," answered Mrs. Manners, gently, "he thinks 
 you dead. But you have written him ? " she added hurriedly. 
 
 I nodded. "From Dumfries." 
 
 "He will have the letter soon," she said cheerfully. "I 
 thank Heaven I am able to tell you that his health is remark- 
 able under the circumstances. But he will not quit the house, 
 and sees no one except your uncle, who is with him con- 
 stantly." 
 
 It was what I expected. But the confirmation of it brought 
 me to my feet in a torrent of indignation, exclaiming : — - 
 
 " The villain ! You tell me he will allow Mr. Carvel to see 
 no one ? " 
 
 She started forward, laying her hand on my arm, and Dorothy 
 gave a little cry. 
 
 " What are you saying, Richard ? What are you saying ? "
 
 ARLINGTON STREET 269 
 
 " Mrs. Manners," I answered, collecting myself, '' I must tel) 
 you that I believe it is Grafton Carvel himself that is responsi- 
 ble for my abduction. He meant that I should be murdered.'' 
 
 Then Dorothy rose, her eyes flashing and her head high. 
 
 " He would have murdered you — you, Richard ? " she cried, 
 in such a storm of anger as I had never seen her. " Oh, he 
 should hang for the thought of it ! I have always suspected 
 Grafton Carvel capable of any crime ! " 
 
 " Hush, Dorothy," said her mother j " it is not seemly for & 
 young girl to talk so." 
 
 " Seemly ! " said Dorothy. " If I were a man I would bring 
 him to justice, and it took me a lifetime. Nay, if I were a 
 man and could use a sword — " 
 
 " Dorothy ! Dorothy ! " interrupted Mrs. Manners. 
 
 Dorothy sat down, the light lingering in her eyes. She had 
 revealed more of herself in that instant than in all her life 
 before. 
 
 " It is a grave charge, Richard," said Mrs. Manners, at 
 length. "And your uncle is a man of the best standing in 
 Annapolis." 
 
 " You must remember his behaviour before my mother'^ 
 marriage, Mrs. Manners." 
 
 " I do, I do, Richard," she said sadly. " And I have nevei 
 trusted him since. I suppose you are not making your accusa- 
 tiun without cause ? " 
 
 "I have cause enough," I answered bitterly. 
 
 " And proof ? " she added. She should have been the man 
 in her family. 
 
 I told her how Harvey had overheard the bits of the plot at 
 Carvel Hall near two years gone ; and now that I had begun. 
 I was going through with Mr. Allen's part in the conspiracy, 
 when Dorothy startled us both by crying : — 
 
 '' Oh, there is so much v/ickedness in the world, I wish I had 
 never been born ! " 
 
 She flung herself from the room in a passion of tears to shock 
 me. As if in answer to my troubled look, Mrs. Manners said, 
 with a sigh : — 
 
 " She has not been at all well, lately, Richaj'd. I fear the
 
 270 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 gayety of this place is too much for her. Indeed, I am sorry 
 we ever left Maryland." 
 
 I was greatly disturbed, and thought involuntarily of Comyn's 
 words. Could it be that Mr. Manners was forcing her to marry 
 Chartersea ? 
 
 " And has Mr. Lloyd said nothing of my uncle ? " I asked 
 after a while. 
 
 " I will not deny that ugly rumours are afloat," she answered. 
 " Grafton, as you know, is not liked in Annapolis, especially 
 by the Patriot party. But there is not the slightest ground 
 for suspicion. The messenger — " 
 
 « Yes ? " 
 
 " Your uncle denies all knowledge of. He was taken to be 
 the tool of the captain of the slaver, and he disappeared so 
 completely that it was supposed he had escaped to the ship. 
 The story goes that you were seized for a ransom, and killed 
 m the struggle. Your black ran all the way to town, crying 
 the news to those he met on the Circle and in West Street, but 
 by the mercy of God he Avas stopped by Mr. Swain and some 
 others before he had reached your grandfather. In ten minutes 
 a score of men were galloping out of the Town Gate, Mr. Lloyd 
 and Mr. Singleton ahead. They found your horse dead, and 
 the road through the woods all trampled down, and they 
 spurred after the tracks down to the water's edge. Singleton 
 recalled a slaver, the crew of which had been brawling at the 
 Ship tavern a few nights before. But the storm was so thick 
 they could not see the ship's length out into the river. They 
 started two fast sloops from the town wharves in chase, and 
 your uncle has been moving heaven and earth to obtain some 
 clew of you. He has put notices in the newspapers of Charles- 
 town, Philadelphia, New York, and even Boston, and offered a 
 thousand pounds reward."
 
 CHAPTER XXIX 
 
 I MEET A VERY GREAT YOUNG MAN 
 
 The French clock had struck four, and I was beginning to 
 fear that, despite my note, the captain's pride forbade his coming 
 to Mr. Manners's house, Avhen in he walked, as tho' 'twere 
 no novelty to have his name announced. And so straight 
 and handsome was he, his dark eye flashing with the self- 
 confidence born in the man, that the look of uneasiness I had 
 detected upon Mrs. Manners's face quickly changed to one of 
 surprise and pleasure. Of coiu se the good lady had anticipated 
 a sea-captain of a far different mould. He kissed her hand with 
 a respectful grace, and then her daughter's, for Dorothy had 
 come back to us, calmer. And I was filled with joy over his 
 fine appearance. Even Dorothy was struck by the change the 
 clothes had made in him. Mrs. Manners thanked him very 
 tactfully for restoring me to them, as she was pleased to put it, 
 to which John Paul modestly replied that he had done no 
 more than another would under the same circumstances. And 
 he soon had them both charmed by his address. 
 
 " Why, Richard," said Dorothy's mother aside to me, " surely 
 this cannot be your sea-captain ! " 
 
 I nodded merrily. But John Paul's greatest triumph was 
 yet to come. For presently Mr. Marmaduke arrived from 
 White's, and when he had greeted me with effusion he levelled 
 hid glass at the corner of the room. 
 
 " Ahem ! " he exclaimed. " Pray, my dear, whom have you 
 invited to-day ? " And without awaiting her reply, as was 
 frequently his habit, he turned to me and said : " I had hoped 
 we were to have the pleasure of Captain Paul's company^ 
 
 271
 
 272 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 Richard. For I must have the chance before you go of clasp- 
 ing the hand of your benefactor." 
 
 " You shall have the chance, at least, sir," I replied, a fiery 
 exultation in my breast. '' Mr. Manners, this is my friend. 
 Captain Paul." 
 
 The captain stood up and bowed gravely at the little gentle- 
 man's blankly amazed countenance. 
 
 " Ahem," said he ; " dear me, is it possible ! " and advanced 
 a step, but the captain remained immovable. Mr. Marmaduke 
 fumbled for his snuff-box, failed to find it, halted, and began 
 again, for he never was known to lack words for long : " Cap- 
 tain, as one of the oldest friends of Mr. Lionel Carvel I claim 
 the right to thank you in his name for your gallant conduct. 
 I hear that you are soon to see him, and to receive his obliga- 
 tions from him in person. You will not find him lacking, sir, 
 I'll warrant." 
 
 Such was Mr. Marmaduke's feline ingenuity ! I had a retort 
 ready, and I saw that Mrs. Manners, long tried in such occa- 
 sions, was about to pour oil on the waters. But it was Dorothy 
 who exclaimed : — 
 
 " What, captain ! are you, too, going to Maryland ? " 
 
 John Paul reddened. 
 
 "Ay, that he is, Dolly," I cut in hurriedly. "Did you 
 imagine I would let him escape so easily ? Henceforth, as he 
 has said, he is to be an American." 
 
 She flashed at me such a look as might have had a dozen 
 different meanings, and in a trice it was gone again under her 
 dark lashes. 
 
 Dinner was got through I know not how. Mr. Manners led 
 the talk, and spoke more than was needful concerning our 
 approaching voyage. He was at great j^ains to recommend 
 the Virginia packet, which had made the fastest passage from 
 the Capes; and she sailed, as was no doubt most conven- 
 ient, the Saturday following. I should find her a comfortable 
 vessel, and he would oblige me with a letter to Captain Alsop. 
 Did Captain Paul know him ? But the captain was describ- 
 ing West Indian life to Mrs. Manners. Dorothy had little to 
 §ay ; and as for me, I was in no very pleasant humour. I
 
 A VERY GREAT YOUNG MAN 1^73 
 
 gave a deaf ear to Mr. Marniaduke's sallies, to speculate on the 
 nature of the disgrace which Chartersea was said to hold over 
 his head. And twenty times, as I looked upon Dolly's beauty, 
 I ground my teeth at the notion of returning home. I have 
 ever been slow of suspicion, but suddenly it struck me sharply 
 that Mr. Manners's tactics must have a deeper significance 
 than I had thought. Why was it that he feared my presence 
 in London ? 
 
 As we made our way back to the drawing-room, I was hop- 
 ing for a talk with Dolly (alas ! I should not have many more), 
 when I heard a voice which sounded strangely familiar. 
 
 " You know, Comyn," it was saying, " you know I should 
 be at the Princess's were I not so completely worn out. I was 
 up near all of last night with Rosette." 
 
 Mr. Marmaduke, entering before us, cried : — 
 
 " The dear creature ! I trust you have had medical attend- 
 ance, Mr. Walpole." 
 
 " Egad ! " quoth Horry (for it was he), " I sent Favre to 
 Harapstead to fetch Dr. Pratt, where he was attending some 
 mercer's wife. It seems that Rosette had got into the street 
 and eaten something horrible out of the kennel. I discharged 
 the footman, of course." 
 
 "A plague on your dog, Horry," said my Lord, yawning, 
 and was about to add something worse, when he caught sight 
 of Dorothy. 
 
 Mr. Walpole bowed over her hand. 
 
 " And have you forgotten so soon your Windsor acquaint- 
 ances, Mr. Walpole ? " .she asked, laughing. 
 
 " Bless me," said Horry, looking very hard at me, " so it 
 is, so it is. Your hand, Mr. Carvel. You have only to remain 
 in London, sir, to discover that your reputation is ready-made. 
 I contributed my mite. For you must know that I am a sort 
 of circulating library of odd news which those devils, the 
 printers, contrive to get sooner or later — Heaven knows how ! 
 And Miss Manners herself has completed your fame. Yes, 
 the story of your gallant rescue is in all the clubs to-day. 
 Egad, sir, you come down heads up, like a loaded coin. You 
 will soon be a factor in Change Alley." And glancing slyly 
 
 T
 
 274 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 at the blushing Dolly, he continued: "I have been many 
 things, Miss Manners, but never before an instrument of Provi- 
 dence. And so you discovered your rough diamond yester- 
 day, and have polished him in a day. that Dr. Franklin 
 had profited as well by our London tailors ! The rogue never 
 told me, when he was ordering me about in his swan-skin, that 
 he had a friend in Arlington Street, and a reigning beauty. 
 But I like him the better for it." 
 
 " And I the worse," said Dolly. 
 
 " I perceive that he still retains his body-guard," said Mr. 
 Walpole ; " Captain — " 
 
 " Paul," said Dolly, seeing that we would not help him out. 
 
 " Ah, yes. These young princes from the New World must 
 have their suites. You must bring them both some day to 
 my little castle at Strawberry Hill." 
 
 " Unfortunately, Mr. Walpole, Mr. Carvel finds that he must 
 return to America," Mr. Marmaduke interjected. He had 
 been waiting to get in this word, 
 
 Comyn nudged me And I took the opportunity, in the 
 awkward silence that followed, to thank Mr. Walpole for 
 sending his coach after us. 
 
 " And pray where did you get your learning ? " he de- 
 manded abruptly of the captain, in his most patronizing way. 
 "Your talents are wasted at sea, sir. You should try your 
 fortune in London, where you shall be under my protection, 
 sir. They shall not accuse me again of stifling young genius. 
 Stay," he cried, warming with generous enthusiasm, " stay, I 
 have an opening. 'Twas but yesterday Lady Cretherton told 
 me that she stood in need of a tutor for her youngest son, and 
 you shall have the position." 
 
 " Pardon me, sir, but I shall not have the position," said 
 John Paul, coolly. And Horry might have heeded the danger 
 signal. I had seen it more than once on board the brigantine 
 John, and knew what Avas coming. 
 
 " Faith, and why not, sir ? If I recommend you, why not, 
 sir ? " 
 
 "Because I shall not take it," he said. "I have my pro- 
 fession, Mr. Walpole, and it is an honourable one. And J
 
 A VERY GREAT YOUNG MAN 275 
 
 would not exchange it, sir, were it in your power to make 
 me a Gibbon or a Hume, or tutor to his Royal Highness, 
 which it is not." 
 
 Thus, for the second time, the weapon of the renowned 
 master of Strawberry was knocked from his hand at a single 
 stroke of his strange adversary. I should like to describe 
 John Paul as he made that speech, — for 'twas not so much 
 the speech as the atmosphere of it. Those who heard and 
 saw were stirred with wonder, for Destiny lay bare that 
 instant, just as the powers above are sometimes revealed at a 
 single lightning-bolt. Mr. Walpole made a reply that strove 
 hard to be indifferent ; Mr. Marmaduke stuttered, for he was 
 frightened, as little souls are apt to be at such times. But 
 my Lord Comyn, forever natural, forever generous, cried out 
 heartily : — 
 
 " Egad, captain, there you are a true sailor ! Which would you 
 rather have been, 1 say, William Shakespeare or Sir Francis ? " 
 
 " Which would you rather be, Richard," said Dolly to me, 
 under her breath, " Horace Walpole or Captain John Paul ? 
 T begin to like your captain better." 
 
 Willy nilly, Mr. Walpole was forever doing me a service. 
 JTow, in order to ignore the captain more completely, he sat 
 him down to engage Mr. and Mrs. Manners. Comyn was 
 soon hot in an argument with John Paul concerning the sea- 
 going qualities of a certain frigate, every rope and spar of 
 which they seemed to know. And so I stole a few moments 
 with Dorothy. 
 
 " You are going to take the captain to Maryland. Richard ? " 
 she asked, playing with her fan. 
 
 " I intend to get him the Belle of the Wye. "Tis the least I 
 can do. For I am at my wits' end how to reward him, Dolly. 
 And when are you coming back ? " I whispered earnestly, 
 seeing her silent. 
 
 " I would that I knew, Richard," she replied, with a certain 
 sadness that went to my heart, as tho' the choice lay beyond 
 her. Then she changed. "Richard, there was more in Mr. 
 Lloyd's letter than mamma told you of. There w as ill news of 
 one of your friends.'*
 
 276 EICHARD CAEVEL 
 
 « 111 news ! " 
 
 She looked at me fixedly, and then continued, her voice so 
 low that I was forced to bend over : — 
 
 " Yes. You were not told that Patty Swain fell in a faint 
 when she heard of your disappearance. You were not told 
 that the girl was ill for a week afterwards. Ah, Richard, I 
 fear you are a sad flirt. l^Jay, you may benefit by the doubt, 
 — perchance you are going home to be married." 
 
 You may be sure that this intelligence, from Dorothy's lips, 
 only increased my trouble and perplexity. 
 
 " You say that Patty has been ill ? " 
 
 " Very ill," says she, with her lips tight closed. 
 
 " Indeed, I grieve to hear of it," I replied ; " but I cannot 
 think that my accident had anything to do with the matter." 
 
 '^ Young ladies do not send their fathers to coffee-houses to 
 prevent duels unless their feelings are engaged," she flung 
 back. 
 
 " You have heard the story of that affair, Dorothy. At least 
 enough of it to do me justice." 
 
 She was plainly agitated. 
 
 '' Has Lord Comyn — " 
 
 *' Lord Comyn has told you the truth," I said ; " so much I 
 know." 
 
 Alas for the exits and entrances of life ' Here comes the 
 footman. 
 
 " Mr. Fox," said he, rolling the name, for it was a great 
 one. 
 
 Confound Mr. Fox! He might have waited five short 
 minutes. 
 
 It was, in truth, none other than that precocious marvel 
 of England who but a year before had taken the breath from 
 the House of Commons, and had sent his fame flying over the 
 Channel and across the wide Atlantic; the talk of London, 
 who set the fashions, cringed not before white hairs, or royalty, 
 or customs, or institutions, and was now, at one and twenty. 
 Junior Lord of the Admiralty — Charles James Fox. His 
 face was dark, forbidding, even harsh — until he smiled. His 
 eyebrows were heavy and shaggy, and his features of a rounded,
 
 A VERY GREAT YOUNG MAN 27? 
 
 almost Jewish mould. He put me in mind of the Stuarts, and 
 I was soon to learn that he was descended from them. 
 
 As he entered the room I recall remarking that he was pos- 
 sessed of the supremest confidence of any man I had ever met. 
 Mrs. Manners he greeted in one way, Mr. Marmaduke in 
 another, and Mr. Walpole in still another. To Comyn it was 
 " Hello, Jack," as he walked by him. Each, as it were, had 
 been tagged with a particular value. 
 
 Chagrined as I was at the interruption, I was struck with 
 admiration. For the smallest actions of these rare men of 
 master passions so compel us. He came to Dorothy, whom he 
 seemed not to have perceived at first, and there passed between 
 them such a look of complete understanding that I suddenly 
 remembered Comyn's speech of the night before, " Now it is 
 Charles Fox." Here, indeed, was the, man who might have won 
 her. And yet I did not hate him. Nay, I loved him from the first 
 toe he addressed me. It was Dorothy who introduced us. 
 
 " I think I have heard of you, Mr, Carvel," he said, making 
 a barely perceptible wink at Comyn. 
 
 " And I think I have heard of you, Mr. Fox," I replied. 
 
 " The deuce you have, Mr, Carvel ! " said he, and laughed. 
 And Comyn laughed, and Dorothy laughed, and I laughed. 
 We were friends from that moment, 
 
 " Richard has appeared amongst us like a comet," put in the 
 ubiquitous Mr. Manners, " and, I fear, intends to disappear 
 in like manner." 
 
 " And where is the tail of this comet ? " demanded Fox, 
 instantly; "for I understood there was a tail." 
 
 John Paul was brought up, and the Junior Lord of the 
 Admiralty looked him over from head to toe. And what, my 
 dears, do you think he said to him ? 
 
 " Have you ever acted, Captain Paul ? " 
 
 The captain started back in surprise, 
 
 " Acted ! " he exclaimed ; " really, sir, I do not know. I 
 have never been upon the boards." 
 
 Mr, Fox vowed that he could act: that he was sure of it, 
 from the captain's appearance. 
 
 " And I, too, am sure of it, Mr. Fox," cried Dorothy, clap
 
 ti78 EICHARD CARVEL 
 
 ping lier hands. " Persuade him to stay awhile in London, that 
 you may have him at your next theatricals at Holland House. 
 Why, he knows Shakespeare and Pope and — and Chaucer by 
 heart, and Ovid and Horace, — is it not so, Mr. Walpole ? " 
 
 " Is not what so, my dear young lady ? " asked Mr. Wal- 
 pole, pretending not to have heard. 
 
 " There ! " exclaimed Dolly, pouting, when the laughter had 
 subsided ; "you make believe to care something about me, and 
 yet will not listen to what I say." 
 
 I had seen at her feet our own Maryland gallants, the long- 
 est of whose reputations stretched barely from the James to 
 the Schuylkill ; but here in London men were hanging on her 
 words whose names were familiarly spoken in Paris, and Eome, 
 and Geneva. Not a topic was broached by Mr. Walpole or 
 Mr. Fox, from the remonstrance of the Archbishop against 
 masquerades and the coming marriage of my Lord Albemarle 
 to the rights and wrongs of Mr. Wilkes, but my lady had her 
 say. Mrs. Manners seemed more than content that she should 
 play the hostess, which she did to perfection. She contrived 
 to throw poisoned darts at the owner of Strawberry that 
 started little Mr. Marmaduke to fidgeting in his seat, and he 
 came to the rescue with all the town-talk at his command. 
 He knew little else. Could Mr. Walpole tell hira of this club 
 of both sexes just started at Almack's ? Mr. Walpole could 
 tell a deal, tho' he took the pains first to explain that he Avas 
 becoming too old for such frivolous and fashionable society. 
 He could not, for the life of him, say why he was included. 
 But, in spite of Mr. Walpole, John Paul was led out in the 
 paces that best suited him, and finally, to the undisguised 
 delight of Mr. Fox, managed to trip Horry upon an obscure 
 point in Athenian literature. And this broke up the company. 
 
 As we took our leave Dorothy and Mr. Fox were talking 
 together with lowered voices. 
 
 " I shall see you before I go," I said to her. 
 
 She laughed, and glanced at Mr. Fox. 
 
 "You are not going, Richard Carvel," said she. 
 
 " That you are not, Richard Carvel," said Mr. Fox. 
 
 I smiled, rather lamely, I fear, and said good night.
 
 CHAPTER XXX 
 
 A CONSPIRACY 
 
 " Bakks, where is the captain ? " I asked, as I entered thp 
 parlour the next morning. 
 
 " Gone, sir, since seven o'clock," was the reply. 
 
 " Gone ! " I exclaimed ; " gone where ? " 
 
 "Faith, I did not ask his honour, sir." 
 
 I thought it strange, but reflected that John Paul was given 
 to whims. Having so little time before him, he had probably 
 gone to see the sights he had missed 3'esterday : the Pantheon, 
 which was building, an account of which had appeared in all 
 the colonial papers ; or the new Blackfriars Bridge ; or the 
 Tower; or perhaps to see his Majesty ride out. The wonders 
 of London might go hang, for all I cared. Who would gaze 
 at the King when he might look upon Dorothy ! I sighed. 
 I bade Banks dress me in the new suit Davenport had brought 
 that morning, and then sent him off to seek the shipping agent 
 of the Virginia packet to get us a cabin. I would go to Arling- 
 ton Street as soon as propriety admitted. 
 
 But I had scarce finished my chocolate and begun to smoke 
 in a pleasant revery, when I was startled by the arrival of 
 two gentlemen. One was Comyn, and the other none less 
 than Mr. Charles Fox. 
 
 " Now where the devil has j^our captain flown to ? " said 
 my Lord, tossing his whip on the table. 
 
 " I believe he must be sight-seeing," I said. " I dare swear 
 he has taken a hackney coach to the Tower." 
 
 " To see the liberation of the idol of the people, I'll lay ten 
 guineas. But they say the great Mr. Wilkes is to come out 
 quietly, and wishes no demonstration," said Mr. Fox. "J 
 
 279
 
 280 KICHARD CARVEL 
 
 believe the beggar has some sense, if the oi ttoXXol would onlj' 
 let him have his way. So your captain is a Wilkite, Mr, 
 Carvel ? " he demanded. 
 
 " I fear you run very fast to conclusions, Mr. Pox," I an- 
 swered, laughing, tho' I thought his guess was not far from 
 wrong. 
 
 "I'll lay you the ten guineas he has been to the Tower," 
 said Mr. Fox, promptly. 
 
 " Done, sir," said I. 
 
 " Hark ye, Eichard," said Comyn, stretching himself in an 
 arm-chair ; " we are come to take the wind out of your sails, 
 and leave you without an excuse for going home. And we 
 want your captain, alive or dead. Charles, here, is to give 
 him a commission in his Majesty's Navy." 
 
 Then I knew why Dorothy had laughed when I had spoken 
 of seeing her again. Comyn — bless him! — had told her of 
 his little scheme. 
 
 <' Egad, Charles ! " cried his Lordship, " to look at his 
 glum face, one might think we were a couple of Jews who 
 had cornered him." 
 
 Alas for the perversity of the heart! Instead of leaping 
 for joy, as no doubt they had both confidently expected, I 
 was both troubled and perplexed by this unlooked-for news. 
 Oak, when bent, is even harder to bend back again. And so 
 it has ever been with me. I had determined, after a bitter 
 struggle, to go to Maryland, and had now become used to 
 that prospect. I was anxious to see my grandfather, and to 
 confront Grafton Carvel with his villany. And there was 
 John Paul. What would he think? 
 
 "What ails you, Richard?" Comyn demanded somewnat 
 testily. 
 
 " Nothing, Jack," I replied. "I thank you from my heart, 
 and you, Mr. Fox. I know that commissions are not to be 
 had for the asking, and I rejoice with the captain over his 
 good fortune. But, gentlemen." I said soberly, "I had most 
 selfishly hoped that I might be able to do a service to John 
 Paul in return for his charity to me. You offer him something 
 nearer his deserts, something beyond my power to give him."
 
 A CONSPIRACY 281 
 
 Fox's eyes kindled. 
 
 " You speak like a man, Mr. Carvel," said he. " But you 
 are too modest. Damn it, sir, don't you see that it is you, 
 and no one else, who has procured this commission ? Had 
 I not been taken with you, sir, I should scarce have promised 
 it to your friend Comyn, through whose interest you obtain 
 it for your protege." 
 
 I remembered what Mr. Fox's enemies said of him, and 
 smiled at the plausible twist he had given the facts. 
 
 " No," I said ; " no, Mr. Fox ; never that. The captain 
 must not think that I wish to be rid of him. I will not 
 stand in the way, though if it is to be offered him, he must 
 comprehend that I had naught to do with the matter. But, 
 sir," I continued curiously, " what do you know of John 
 Paul's abilities an an officer ? " 
 
 Mr. Fox and Comyn laughed so immoderately as to bring 
 the blood to my face. 
 
 " Damme ! " cried the Junior Lord, " but you Americans have 
 odd consciences ! Do you suppose Rigby Avas appointed Pay- 
 master of the Forces because of his fitness ? Why was North 
 himself made Prime Minister ? For his abilities ? " And he 
 broke down again. "Ask Jack, here, how he got into the 
 service, and how much seamanship he knows." 
 
 "Faith," answered Jack, unblushingly, "Admiral Lord 
 Comyn, my father, wished me to serve awhile. And so I have 
 taken two cruises, delivered some score of commands, and 
 scarce know a supple jack from a can of flip. Cursed if I see 
 the fun of it in these piping times o' peace, so I have given it 
 up, Richard. For Charles says this Falkland business with 
 Spain will blow out of the touch-hole." 
 
 I could see little to laugh over. For the very rottenness of 
 the service was due to the miserable and servile Ministry and 
 Parliament of his Majesty, by means of which instruments he 
 was forcing the colonies to the wall. Verily, that was a time 
 when the greatness of England hung in the balance ! How 
 little T suspected that the young man then seated beside me, 
 who had cast so unthinkingly his mighty powers on the side 
 of corruption, was to be one of the chief instruments of her
 
 282 KICHARD CARVEL 
 
 salvation ! We were to fight George the Third across tlie seas. 
 He was to wage no less courageous a battle at home, in the 
 King's own capital. And the cause ? Yes, the cause was to 
 be the same as that of the Mr. Wilkes he reviled, who obtained 
 his liberty that day. 
 
 At length John Paul came in, calling my name. He broke 
 oft abruptly at sight of the visitors. 
 
 " Now we shall decide," said Mr. Fox. " Captain, I have 
 bet Mr. Carvel ten guineas you have been to the Tower to see 
 Squinting Jack ^ get his liberty at last." 
 
 The captain looked astonished. 
 
 " Anan, then, you have lost, Richard," said he. " For I have 
 been just there." 
 
 " And helped, no doubt, to carry off the champion on your 
 shoulders," said Mr. Fox, sarcastically, as"I paid the debt. 
 
 " Mr. Wilkes knows full well the value of moderation, sir,'' 
 replied the captain, in the same tone. 
 
 " Well, damn the odds ! " exclaimed the Junior Lord, laugh- 
 ing. " You may have the magic number tattooed all over your 
 back, for all I care. You shall have the commission." 
 
 " The commission ? " 
 
 " Yes," said Fox, carelessly ; " I intend making you a lieu- 
 tenant, sir, in the Royal Navj^" 
 
 The moment the words were out 1 was a-tremble as to how 
 he would take the offer. For he had a certain puzzling pride, 
 which flew hither and thither. But there was surely no com- 
 parison between the situations of the master of the Belle of 
 the Wye and an officer in the Royal Navy. There, his talents 
 would make him an admiral, and doubtless give him the social 
 position he secretly coveted. He confounded us all by his 
 answer. 
 
 "I thank you, Mr. Fox. But I cannot accept your kind- 
 ness." 
 
 " 'Slife ! " said Fox, " you refuse ? And you know what 
 you are doing ? " 
 
 " I know usually, sir." 
 
 Comyn swore. My exclamation had something of relief in it. 
 
 1 John Wilkes.
 
 A CONSPIRACY 283 
 
 " Captain," I said, " I felt that I could not stand in the waj 
 of this. It has been my hope that you will come with me, and 
 I have sent this morning after a cabin on the Virginia. You 
 must know that Mr. Fox's offer is his own, and Lord Comyn's." 
 
 "I know it well, Richard. I have not lived these three 
 months with you for nothing." His voice seemed to fail him. 
 He drew near me and took my hand. " But did you think ] 
 would require of you the sacrifice of leaving London now ? " 
 
 " It is my pleasure as well as my duty, captain." 
 
 " No," he said, " I am not like that. Yesterday I went to 
 the city to see a shipowner whose acquaintance I made when 
 he was a master in the West India trade. He has had some 
 reason to know that I can handle a ship. Never mind what. 
 •And he has given me the bark Betsy, whose former master is 
 lately dead of the small-pox. Richard, I sail to-morrow." 
 
 In Dorothy's coach to Whitehall Stairs, by the grim old pal- 
 ace out of whose window Charles the Martyr had walked to 
 his death. For Dorothy had vowed it was her pleasure to see 
 John Paul off, and who could stand in her way ? Surely not 
 Mr. Marmaduke ! and Mrs. Manners laughingly acquiesced. 
 Our spirits were such that we might have been some honest 
 mercer's apprentice and his sweetheart away for an outing. 
 
 " If we should take a wherry, Richard," said Dolly, " who 
 would know of it ? I have longed to be in a wherry ever since 
 I came to London." 
 
 The rivei' was smiling as she tripped gayly down to the 
 water, and the red-coated watermen were smiling, too, and 
 nudging one another. But little cared we ! Dolly in holiday 
 humour stopped for naught. "Boat, your honour! Boat, 
 boat ! To Rotherhithe — Redriff ? Two and six apiece, sir." 
 For that intricate puzzle called human nature was solved out 
 of hand by the Thames watermen. Here was a young gentle- 
 man who never heard of the Lord Mayor's scale of charges. 
 And what was a shilling to such as he ! Intricate puzzle, in- 
 deed ! Any booby might have read upon the young man's face 
 that secret which is written for all, — high and low, rich and 
 poor alike.
 
 284 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 My new lax^e handkerchief was down upon the seat, lesl 
 Dolly soil her bright pink lutestring. She should have worn 
 nothing else but the hue of roses. How the bargemen stared, 
 and the passengers craned their necks, and the 'longshoremen 
 stopped their work as we shot past them ! On her account a 
 barrister on the Temple Stairs was near to letting fall his bag 
 in the water. A lady in a wherry ! Where were the whims 
 of the quality to lead them next ? Past the tall water-tower 
 and York Stairs, the idlers under the straight row of trees 
 leaning over the high river wall ; past Adelphi Terrace, where 
 the great Garrick lived ; past the white columns of Somerset 
 House, with its courts and fountains and alleys and archi- 
 tecture of all ages, and its river gate where many a gilded 
 royal barge had lain, and many a fine ambassador had arrived' 
 in state over the great highway of England ; past the ancient, 
 trees in the Temple Gardens, And then under the new 
 Blackfriars Bridge to Southwark, dingy with its docks and 
 breweries and huddled houses, but forever famous, — the South 
 wark of Shakespeare and .Jonson and Beaumont and Fletcher 
 And the shelf upon which they stood in the library at Carve. 
 Hall was before my eyes. 
 
 " Yes," said Dolly ; " and I recall your mother's name written 
 in faded ink upon the fly-leaves." 
 
 Ah, London Town, by what subtleties are you tied to the 
 hearts of those born across the sea ? That is one of the mys- 
 teries of race. 
 
 Under the pointed arches of old London Bridge, with its 
 hooded shelters for the weary, to where the massive Tower 
 had frowned for ages upon the foolish river. And then the 
 forest of ships, and the officious throng of little Avherries and 
 lighters that pressed around them, seeming to say, "You 
 clumsy giants, how helpless would you be without us!" Soon 
 our own wherry was dodging among them, ships brought 
 hither by the four winds of the seas; many discharging in 
 the stream, some in the docks then beginning to be built, and 
 hugging the huge warehouses. Hides from frozen Russia were 
 piled high beside barrels of sugar and rum from the moist 
 island cane-fields of the Indies, and pipes of wine from the
 
 A CONSPIRACY 285 
 
 sunny hillsides of France, and big boxes of tea bearing the 
 hall-mark of the mysterious East. Dolly gazed in wonder. 
 And I was commanded to show her a schooner like the Black 
 Moll, and a brigantiue like the John. 
 
 " And Captain Paul told me you climbed the masts, Richard, 
 and worked like a common seaman. Tell me," says she, point- 
 ing at the royal yard of a tall East Indiaman, " did you go as 
 high as that when it was rough ? " 
 
 And, hugely to the boatman's delight, the minx must needs 
 put her fingers on the hard welts on my hands, and vow she 
 would be a sailor and she were a man. But at length we came 
 to a trim-built bark lying off Redriff Stairs, with the words 
 *' Betsy, of London," -painted across her stern. In no time at 
 all, Captain Paul was down the gangway ladder and at the 
 water-side, to hand Dorothy out. 
 
 " This honour overwhelms me. Miss Manners," he said ; " but 
 I know whom to thank for it." And he glanced slyly at me. 
 
 Dorothy stepped aboard with the air of Queen Elizabeth 
 come to inspect Lord Howard's flagship. 
 
 " Then you will thank me," said she. " Why, I could eat 
 lay dinner off your deck, captain I Are all merchantmen so 
 clean ? " 
 
 John Paul smiled. 
 
 " Not all, jMiss Manners," he said. 
 
 " And you are still sailing at the ebb ? " I asked. 
 
 " In an hour, Richard, if the wind holds good." 
 
 With what pride he showed us over his ship, the sailors 
 gaping at the fine young lady. It had taken him just a day 
 to institute his navy discipline. And Dolly went about ex- 
 claiming, and asking an hundred questions, and merrily cate- 
 chising me upon the run of the ropes. All was ordei- and 
 readiness for dropping down the stream when he led us into 
 his cabin, where he had a bottle of wine and some refresh- 
 ments laid out against my coming. 
 
 " Had I presumed to anticipate your visit. Miss Manners, I 
 should have had something more suitable for a lady," he said. 
 " What, you will not eat, either, Richard ? " 
 
 I could not, so downcast had I become at the thought of
 
 286 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 parting. I had sat up half the night before with him in rest 
 less argument and indecision, and even when he had left for 
 Rotherhithe, early that morning, my mind had not been made. 
 My conscience had insisted that I should sail with John Paul ; 
 that I might never see my dear grandfather on earth again. I 
 had gone to Arlington Street that morning resolved to say fare- 
 well to Dorothy. I will not recount the history of that defeat, 
 my dears. Nay, to this day I know not how she accomplished 
 the matter. Not once had she asked me to remain, or referred 
 to my going. Nor had I spoken of it, weakling that I was. 
 She had come down in the pink lutestring, smiling but pale ; 
 and traces of tears in her eyes, I thought. From that moment 
 I knew that I was defeated. It was she herself who had prO' 
 posed going with me to see the Betsy sail. 
 
 "I will drink some Madeira to wish you Godspeed, cap- 
 tain," I said. 
 
 *' What is the matter with you, Richard ? " Dolly cried ; 
 "you are as sour as my Lord Sandwich after a bad Newmar- 
 ket. Why, captain," said she, "I really believe he wants to 
 go, too. The swain pines for his provincial beauty." 
 
 Poor John Paul ! He had not yet learned that good society 
 is seldom literal. 
 
 " Upon my soul. Miss Manners, there you do him wrong," 
 he retorted, with ludicrous heat ; " you, above all, should know 
 for whom he pines." 
 
 " He has misled you by praising me. This Richard, despite 
 his frank exterior, is most secretive." 
 
 " There you have hit him, Miss Manners," he declared ; 
 " there you have hit him ! We were together night and day, 
 on the sea and on the road, and, while I poured out my life 
 to him, the rogue never once let fall a hint of the divine Miss 
 Dorothy. 'Tw s not till I got to London that I knew of her 
 existence, and then only by a chance. You astonish me. You 
 speak of a young lady in Maryland ? " 
 
 Dorothy swept aside my protest. 
 
 " Captain," says she, gravely, " I leave you to judge. What 
 is ycur inference, when he fights a duel about a miss with 
 my Lord Comyn ? "
 
 A CONSPIRACY 287 
 
 " A duel ! " cried the captain, astounded. 
 
 '^Miss Manners persists in her view of the affair, despite 
 my word to tlie contrary," I put in rather coldly. 
 
 " But a duel ! " cried the captain again ; " and with Lord 
 Comyn ! Miss Manners, I fondly thought I had discovered a 
 constant man, but you make me fear he has had as many flames 
 as I. And yet, Richard," he added meaningly, "I should 
 think shame on my conduct and I had had such a subject for 
 constancy as you." 
 
 Dorothy's armour was pierced, and my ill-humour broken 
 down, by this characteristic speech. We both laughed, greatly 
 to his discomfiture. 
 
 " You had best go home with him, Richard," said Dolly. 
 " I can find my way back to Arlington Street alone." 
 
 " Nay ; gallantry forbids his going with me now," answered 
 John Paul ; " and I have my sailing orders. But had I known 
 of this, I should never have wasted my breath iu persuading 
 him to remain." 
 
 " And did he stand in need of muQh persuasion, captain ? " 
 asked Dolly, archly. 
 
 Time was pressing, and the owner came aboard, puffing, — a 
 round-faced, vociferous, jolly merchant, who had no sooner got 
 his breath than he lost it again upon catching sight of Dolly. 
 While the captain was giving the mate his final orders, Mr. 
 Orchardson, for such was his name, regaled us with a part of 
 his life's history. He had been a master himself, and mangled 
 and clipped King George's English as only a true master 
 might. 
 
 " I like your own captain better than ever, Richard," whis- 
 pered Dolly, while Mr. Orchardson relieved himself of his quid 
 over the other side ; " how commanding he is ! Were I to 
 take passage in the Betsy, I know I should be in love with 
 him long before we got to Norfolk." 
 
 I took it upon myself to tell Mr. Orchardson, briefly and 
 clearly as I could, the lamentable story of John Paul's las*: 
 cruise. For I feared it might sooner or later reach his ears 
 from prej'.'^iced mouths. And I ended by relating how the 
 captain had refused a commission in the navy because he had
 
 288 RICHAUD CARVEL 
 
 promised to take the Betsy. This appeared vastly to impress 
 him, and he forgot Dorothy's presence. 
 
 '' Passion o' my 'eart, Mr. Carvel," cried he, excitedly, 
 " John Paul's too big a man, an' too good a seaman, to go into 
 the navy without hinilooence. If flag horfocers I wots of is 
 booted haside to rankle like a lump o' salt butter in a gallipot, 
 'ow will a poor Scotch lieutenant win hadvancement an' he be 
 not o' the King's friends ? ' Wilkes an' Liberty,' say I ; ' for- 
 ever,' say I. An' w'en T see 'im goin' to the Tower to be'old 
 the Champion, ' Captain Paul,' says I, ' yere a man arf ter my 
 hown 'eart.' My heye, sir, didn't I see 'im, w'n a mere lad, 
 take the John into Kingston 'arbour in the face o' the worst 
 gale I h«ver seed blowed in the Caribbees ? An' I says, ' Bill 
 Horchardson, an' ye hever 'ave ships o' yere ow^n, w'ich I 'ope 
 will be, ye'll know w'ere to look for a marster.' An' I tells 
 *im that same, Mr. Carvel. I means no disrespect to the dead, 
 sir, but an' John Paul 'ad discharged the Betsy, I'd not 'a' been 
 out twenty barrels or more this day by Thames mudlarks an' 
 scuffle hunters. 'Eave me flat, if 'e'll be two blocks wi' liquor 
 an' dischargin' cargo. An' ye may rest heasy, Mr. Carvel, I'll 
 not do wrong by 'im, neither." 
 
 He told me that if I would honour him in Maid Lane, South 
 wark, I should have as many pounds as I liked of the best 
 tobacco ever cured in Cuba. And so he left me to see that the 
 mate had signed all his lighter bills, shouting to the captain 
 not to forget his cockets at Gravesend. Dolly and I stood 
 silent while the men hove short, singing a jolly song to the 
 step. With a friendly wave the round figure of Mr. Orchard- 
 son disappeared over the side, and I knew that the time had 
 come to say farewell. I fumbled in my waistcoat for the re- 
 peater I had bought that morning over against Temple Bar, 
 in Fleet Street, and I thrust it into John Paul's hand as he 
 came up. 
 
 *• Take this in remembrance of what you have suffered so 
 unselfishly for my sake. Captain Paul," I said, my voice break- 
 ing. " And whatever befalls you, do not forget that Carvel 
 Hal) is your home as well as mine." 
 
 He seemed as greatly affected as was I. Tears forced them-
 
 A CONSPIRACY 289 
 
 selves to his eyes as he held the watch, which he opened 
 absently to read the simple inscription I had put there. 
 
 "Oh, Dickie lad!" he cried, "I'll be missing ye sair three 
 hours hence, and thinking of ye for months to come in the 
 night watches. But something tells me I'll see ye again." 
 
 And he took me in his arms, embracing me with such fervour 
 that there was no doubting the sincerity of his feelings. 
 
 " Miss Dorothy," said he, when he was calmer, *' I give ye 
 Richard for a leal and a true heart. Few men are born with 
 the gift of keeping the affections warm despite absence, and 
 years, and interest. But have no fear of Richard Carvel." 
 
 Dorothy stood a little apart, watching us, her eyes that far- 
 away blue of the deepening skies at twilight. 
 
 " Indeed, I have no fear of him, captain," she said gently. 
 Then, with a quick movement, impulsive and womanl}^, she 
 unpinned a little gold brooch at her throat, and gave it to 
 him, saying : "In token of my gratitude for bringing him back 
 to us." 
 
 John Paul raised it to his lips. 
 
 " I shall treasure it, Miss Manners, as a memento of the 
 greatest joy of ray life. And that has been," gracefully taking 
 her hand and mine, " the bringing you two together again." 
 
 Dorothy grew scarlet as she curtseyed. As for me, I could 
 speak never a word. He stepped over the side to hand her 
 into the wherry, and embraced me once again. • And as we 
 rowed away he waved his hat in a last good-by from the taff- 
 rail. Then the Betsy floated down the Thames.
 
 CHAPTER XXXI 
 
 "upstairs into the world" 
 
 It will be difficult, my dears, without bulging this historj 
 out of all proportion, to give you a just notion of the society 
 into which I fell after John Paul left London. It was, above 
 all, a gaming society. Prom that prying and all-powerful God 
 of Chance none, great or small, escaped. Guineas were staked 
 and won upon frugal King George and his beef and barley-water ; 
 Charles Fox and his debts ; the intrigues of Choiseul and the 
 Du Barry and the sensational marriage of the Due d'Orleans 
 with Madame de Montesson (for your macaroni knew his Paris 
 as well as his London) ; Lord March and his opera singer ; 
 and even the doings of Betty, the apple-woman of St. James's 
 Street, and the beautiful barmaid of Nando's in whom my 
 Lord Thurlow was said to be interested. All these, and much 
 more not to be repeated, were duly set down in the betting- 
 books at White's and Brooks's. 
 
 Then the luxury of the life was something to startle a pro- 
 vincial, even tho' he came, as did I, from one of the two most 
 luxurious colonies of the thirteen. Annapolis might be said to 
 be London on a small scale, — but on a very small scale. The 
 historian of the future need look no farther than our houses (if 
 any remain), to be satisfied that Ave had more than the neces- 
 sities of existence. The Maryland aristocrat with his town 
 place and his country place was indeed a parallel of the patri- 
 cian at home. He wore his English clothes, drove and rode 
 his English horses, and his coaches were built in Long Acre. 
 His heavy silver service came from Elect Street, and his claret 
 and Champagne and Lisbon and Madeira were the best that 
 could be bought or smuggled. His sons were often educated 
 
 290
 
 "UPSTAIES INTO THE WORLD" 291 
 
 at home, at Eton or Westminster and Oxford or Cambridge. 
 So would I have been if circumstances had permitted. So was 
 James Eotheringay, the eldest of the family, and later the 
 Dulany boys, and half a dozen others I might mention. And 
 then our ladies ! 'Tis but necessary to cite my Aunt Caroline 
 as an extreme dame of fashion, who had her French hair- 
 dresser, Pitou. 
 
 As was my aunt to the Duchess of Kingston, so was Annap- 
 olis to London. To depict the life of Mayfair and of St. 
 James's Street during a season about the year of grace 1770 
 demands a mightier pen than wields the writer of these simple 
 memoirs. 
 
 And who was responsible for all this luxury and laxity ? 
 Who but the great Mr. Pitt, then the Earl of Chatham, whose 
 wise policy had made Britain the ruler of the world, and rich 
 beyond compare. Erom all corners of the earth her wealth 
 poured in upon her. Nabob and Caribbee came from East and 
 West to spend their money in the capital. And fortunes near 
 as great were acquired by the City merchants themselves. 
 One by one these were admitted within that charmed circle, 
 whose motto for ages had been " No Trade," to leaven it with 
 their gold. And to keep the pace, — nay, to set it, the nobility 
 and landed gentry were sore pressed. As far back as good 
 Queen Anne, and farther, their ancestors had gamed and tip- 
 pled away the acres; and now that John and William, Avhose 
 forebears had been good tenants for centuries, were setting their 
 faces to Liverpool and Birmingham and Leeds, their cottages 
 were empty. So Lord and Squire went to London to re- 
 cuperate, and to get their share of the game running. St. 
 James's Street and St. Stephen's became their preserves. 
 My Lord wormed himself into a berth in the Treasury, robbed 
 the country systematically for a dozen of years, and sold the 
 places and reversions under him to the highest bidder. Bor- 
 oughs were to be had somewhat dearer than a pair of colours. 
 And my Lord spent his spare time — he had plenty of it — 
 in fleecing the pigeons at White's and \lmack's. Here there 
 was no honour, even amongst thieves. And young gentlemen 
 were hurried through Eton and Oxford, where they learned
 
 292 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 to drink and swear and to call a main as well as to play tennis 
 and billiards and to write Latin, and were thrust into Brooks's 
 before they knew the difference in value between a farthing 
 and a banknote : at nineteen they were hardened rakes, or 
 accomplished men of the world, or both. Dissipated noble- 
 men of middle age like March and Sandwich, wits and beaus 
 and fine gentlemen like Selwyn and Chesterfield and Walpole, 
 were familiarly called by their first names by youngsters like 
 Fox and Carlisle and Comyn. Difference of age was no dif- 
 ference. Young Lord Carlisle was the intimate of Mr. Selwyn, 
 born thirty years before him. 
 
 And whilst I am speaking of intimacies, that short one 
 which sprang up between me and the renowned Charles Fox 
 has always seemed the most unaccountable : not on my part, 
 for I fell a victim to him at once. Pen and paper, brush and 
 canvas, are wholly inadequate to describe the charm of the 
 man. When he desired to please, his conversation and the 
 expression of his face must have moved a temperament of 
 stone itself. None ever had more devoted friends or more 
 ardent admirers. They saw his faults, which he laid bare 
 before them, but they settled his debts again and again, vast 
 sums which he lost at Newmarket and at Brooks's. And not 
 many years after the time of which I ciow write Lord Carlisle 
 was paying fifteen hundred a yeai on the sum he had loaned 
 him, cheerfully denying himself the pleasures of London as a 
 consequence. 
 
 It was Mr. Fox who discovered for me my lodgings in Dover 
 Street, vowing that I could not be so out of fashion as to live 
 at an inn. The brief history of these rooms, as given by him, 
 was this : " A young cub had owned them, whose mamma had 
 come up from Berkshire on Thursday, beat him soundly on 
 Friday, paid his debts on Saturday, and had taken him back 
 on Sunday to hunt with Sir Henry the rest of his life." 
 Dorothy came one day with her mother and swept through 
 my apartments, commanded all the furniture to be moved 
 about, ordered me to get pictures for the walls, and by one 
 fell decree abolished all the ornaments before the landlady, 
 used as she was to the ways of quality, had time to gasp.
 
 "UPSTAIRS INTO THE WORLD" 295 
 
 "Why, Richard," says my lady, "you will be wanting no 
 end of pretty things to take back to Maryland when you go. 
 You shall come with me to-morrow to Mr. Josiah Wedgwood's, 
 to choose some of them." 
 
 " Dorothy !" says her mother, reprovingly. 
 
 " And he must have the Chippendale table I saw yesterday 
 at the exhibition, and chairs to match. And every bachelor 
 should have a punch bowl — Josiah has such a beauty !" 
 
 But I am running far ahead. Among the notes with which 
 my table was laden. Banks had found a scrawl. This I made 
 out with difficulty to convey that Mr. Fox was not attending Par- 
 liament that day. If Mr. Carvel would do him the honour of 
 calling at his lodging, over Mackie's Italian Warehouse in 
 Piccadilly, at four o'clock, he would take great pleasure in 
 introducing him at Brooks's Club. In those days 'twas far 
 better for a young gentleman of any pretensions to remain at 
 home than go to London and be denied that inner sanctuary, 
 — the younger club at Almack's. Many the rich brewer's son 
 has embittered his life because it was not given him to see 
 more than the front of the house from the far side of Pall 
 Mall. But to be taken there by Charles Fox was an honour 
 lalling to few. I made sure that Dolly was at the bottom 
 of it. 
 
 Promptly at four I climbed the stairs and knocked at Mr. 
 Fox's door. The Swiss who opened it shook his head dubiously 
 when I asked for his master, and said he had not been at home 
 that day. 
 
 " But I had an appointment to meet him," I said, thinking 
 it very strange. 
 
 The man's expression changed. 
 
 " An appointment, sir ! Ah, sir, then you are to step in 
 here." And to my vast astonishment he admitted me into a 
 small room at one side of the entrance. It was bare as pov- 
 erty, and furnished Avith benches, and nothing more. On one 
 of these was seated a person with an unmistakable nose and 
 an odour of St. Giles's, who sprang to his feet and then sat 
 down again dejectedly. I also sat down, wondering what it 
 oould mean, and debating whether to go or stay.
 
 294 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 " Exguse me, your honour," said the person, " but haf you 
 seen Mister Fox ? " 
 
 1 said that I, too, was waiting for him, whereat he cast at 
 me a cunning look beyond my compreliension. Surely, I 
 thought, a man of Fox's inherited wealth and position could 
 not be living in such a place ! Before the truth and humour 
 of the situation had dawned upon me, I heard a ringing voice 
 without, swearing in most forcible English, and the door was 
 thrown open, admitting a tall young gentleman, as striking as 
 I have ever seen. He paid not the smallest attention to the 
 Jew, who was bowing and muttering behind me. 
 
 " Mr. Richard Carvel ? " said he, with a merry twinkle in his 
 eye. 
 
 I bowed. 
 
 " Gad's life, Mr. Carvel, I'm deuced sorry this should have 
 happened. Will you come with me ? " 
 
 " Exguse me, your honour ! " cried the other visitor. 
 
 " Now, what the plague, Aaron ! " says he ; " you wear out 
 the stairs. Come to-morrow, or the day after." 
 
 " Ay, 'tis always ' to-morrow ' with you fine gentlemen. But 
 I vill bring the bailiffs, so help me — " 
 
 "Damn 'em ! " says the tall young gentleman, as he slammed 
 the door and so shut ofE the wail. "Damn 'em, they worry 
 Charles to death. If he would only stick to quinze and picquet, 
 and keep clear of the hounds,^ he need never go near a broker. 
 Do you have Jews in America, Mr. Carvel ? " Without wait- 
 ing for an answer, he led me through a parlour, hung with pic- 
 tures, and bewilderingly furnished with French and Italian 
 things, and Japan and China ware and bronzes, and cups and 
 trophies. "My name is Fitzpatrick, Mr. Carvel, — yours to 
 command, and Charles's. I am his ally for offence and de- 
 fence. We went to school together," he explained simply. 
 
 His manner was so free, and yet so dignified, as to charm 
 me completely. For I heartily despised all that fustian 
 trumpery of the age. Then came a voice from beyond, call- 
 ing:— 
 
 1 The *' hounds," it appears, were the gentlemen of sharp practices at 
 White's and Almack's.— D. C. C.
 
 "UPSTAIRS INTO THE WORLD" 295 
 
 " That you, Carvel ? Damn that fellow Eiffel, and did he 
 thrust you into the Jerusalem Chamber ? " 
 
 " The Jerusalem Chamber ! " I exclaimed. 
 
 " Where I keep my Israelites," said he ; " but, by Gad's life ! 
 I think they are one and all descended from Job, and not 
 father Abraham at all. He must have thought me cursed 
 ascetic, eh, Fitz ? Did you find the benches hard ? I nad 'em 
 made hard as the devil. But if they were of stone, I vow the 
 flock could find their own straw to sit on." 
 
 " Curse it, Charles," cut in Mr. Fitzpatrick, in some temper, 
 " can't you be serious for once ! He would behave this way, 
 Mr. Carvel, if he were being shriven by the Newgate ordinary 
 before a last carting to Tyburn, Charles, Charles, it was Aaron 
 again, and the dog is like to snap at last. He is talking of 
 bailiffs. Take my advice and settle with him. Hold Caven- 
 dish off another fortnight and settle with him." 
 
 Mr. Fox's reply was partly a laugh, and the rest of it is not 
 to be printed. F? did not seer in the least to mind this whole- 
 sale disclosure of his somewhat aAvkward affairs. And he con- 
 tinued to dress, or to be dressed, alternately swearing at his 
 valet and talking to Fitzpatrick and tc me. 
 
 " You are both of a name," said he. " Let a man but be 
 called Richard, and I seem to take to him. I' faith, I like the 
 hunchback king, and believe our friend Horry Walpole is right 
 in defending him, despite Davie Hume. I vow I shall like 
 you, Mr. Carvel." 
 
 I replied that I certainly hoped so. 
 
 " Egad, you come well enough recommended," he said, pull- 
 ing on his breeches. " No, Eiffel, cursed if I go en petit maitre 
 to-day. How does that strike you for a demi saison, INIr. Buck- 
 skin ? I wore three of 'em through the customs last year, and 
 March's worked olive nightgown tucked under my greatcoat, 
 and near a dozen pairs of shirts and stockings. And each of 
 my servants had on near as much. Lud, we were amazing — 
 like beef-eaters or blower pigeons. Sorry you won't meet my 
 brother, — he that will have the title. He's out of town." 
 
 Going on in this discursory haphazard way while he dressed, 
 lie made me feel much at home. For the young dictator — so
 
 296 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 Mr. Fitzpatrick informed me afterward — either took to you 
 or else he did not, and stood upon no ceremony. After lie had 
 chosen a coat with a small pattern and his feet had been thrust 
 into the little red shoes with the high heels, imported by him 
 from France, he sent for a hackney-chaise. And the three of 
 us drove together to Pall Mall. Mr. Brooks was at the door, 
 and bowed from his hips as we entered. 
 
 " A dozen vin de Graves, Brooks ! " cries Mr. Fox, and ushers 
 me into a dining room, with high curtained windows and 
 painted ceiling, and chandeliers throwing a glitter of light. 
 There, at a long table, surrounded by powdered lackeys, sat a 
 bevy of wits, mostly in blue and silver, with point ruffles, to 
 match Mr. Fox's costume. They greeted my companions 
 uproariously. It was "Here's Charles at last!" "Howdy, 
 Charles!" "Hello, Richard!" and "What have you there? 
 a new Caribbee?" They made way for Mr. Fox at the 
 head of the table, and he took the seat as though it were his 
 right. 
 
 " This is Mr. Richard Carvel, gentlemen, of Carvel Hall, in 
 Maryland." 
 
 They stirred with interest when my name was called, and 
 most of them turned in their chairs to look at me. I knew 
 well the reason, and felt my face grow hot. Although you 
 may read much of the courtesy of that age, there was a deal 
 of brutal frankness among young men of fashion. 
 
 " Egad, Charles, is this he the Beauty rescued from Castle 
 Yard ? " 
 
 A familiar voice relieved my embarrassment. 
 
 " Give the devil his due, Bully. You forget that I had a 
 hand in that." 
 
 "Faith, Jack Comyn," retorted the gentleman addressed, 
 " you're already famous for clinging to her skirt." 
 
 " But cling to mine. Bully, and we'll all enter the temple 
 together. But I bid you welcome, Richard," said his Lord- 
 ship; "you come with two of the most delightful vagabonds 
 in the world." 
 
 Mr. Fox introduced me in succession to Colonel St. John, 
 known in St. James's Street as the Baptist ; to my Lord Bol-
 
 "UPSTAIRS INTO THE WORLD" 297 
 
 jigbroke, Colonel St. John's brother, who was more famil. 
 iarly called Bally ; to Mr. Fitzpatrick's bi'other, the Earl of 
 Upper Ossory, who had come up to London, so he said, to see 
 a little Italian dance at the Garden; to Gilly VsiWrnia^; to 
 Sir Charles Bunbury, who had married Lady Sarah Lennox, 
 Fox's aunt, the beauty who had come so near to being queen 
 of all England ; to Mr. Storer, who was at once a Caribbee 
 and a Criehton ; to Mr. Uvedale Price. These I remember, 
 but there are more that escape me. Most good-naturedly they 
 drank my health in Charles's vin de grave, at four shillings 
 the bottle ; and soon I was astonished to find myself launched 
 upon the story of my adventures, which they had besought 
 me to tell them. When I had '^one, they pledged me again, 
 and, beginning to feel at home, I pledged them handsomely 
 in return. Then the conversation began. The like of it I 
 have never heard anywhere else in the world. There was a 
 deal that might not be written here, and a deal more that 
 jnight, to make these pages sparkle. They went through the 
 2ieetings, of course, and thrashed over the list of horses en- 
 tered at Ipswich, and York, and Newmarket, and how many 
 were thought to be pulled. Then followed the recent gains 
 and losses of each and every individual of the company. 
 After that there was a roar of merriment over Mr. Storer 
 cracking mottoes with a certain Lady Jane ; and how young 
 Lord Stavordale, on a wager, tilted the candles and set fire 
 to the drawing-room at Lady Julia's drum, the day before. 
 Mr. Price told of the rage Topham Beauclerk had got Dr. 
 Johnson into, by setting down a mark for each oyster the 
 sage had eaten, and showing him the count. But Mr. Fox, 
 who was the soul of the club, had the best array of any. 
 He related how he had gone post from Paris to Lyons, to 
 order, among other things, an embroidered canary waistcoat 
 for George Selwyn from Jabot. ^^ ^ Et quel dessin, monsiexirV 
 'Beetles and frogs, in green.' ' Escarbots ! grenouilles !' he 
 cries, with a shriek ; ' Et pour Monsieur Selwyn ! Monsieur 
 Fox badine ! ' It came yesterday, by Crawford, and I sent 
 it to Chesterfield Street in time for George to wear to the 
 Duchess's. He has been twice to Piccadilly after me, and
 
 298 EICHARD CARVEL 
 
 twice here, and swears he will have my heart. And I believe 
 he is now gone to Matson in a funk." 
 
 After that they fell upon politics. I knew that Mr. Fox 
 was already near the head of the King's party, and that he 
 had just received a substantial reward at his Majesty's hands ; 
 and I went not far to guess that every one of these easy-going, 
 devil-may-care macaronies was a follower or sympathizer with 
 Lord North's policy. But what I heard was a revelation in- 
 deed. I have dignified it by calling it politics. All was 
 frankness here amongst friends. There was no attempt made 
 to gloss over ugly transactions with a veneer of morality. 
 For this much I honoured them. But irresistibly there came 
 into my mind the grand and simple characters of our own 
 public men in America, and it made me shudder to think that, 
 while they strove honestly for our rights, this was the type 
 which opposed them. Motives of personal spite and of per- 
 sonal gain were laid bare, and even the barter and sale of 
 offices of trust took place before my very eyes. I was silent, 
 though my tongue burned me, until one of the gentlemen, 
 thinking me neglected, said : — 
 
 " AVhat a-deuce is to be done with those unruly countrymen 
 of yours, Mr. Carvel ? Are they likely to be pacified now that 
 we have taken off all except the tea ? You who are of our 
 party must lead a sorry life among them. Tell me, do they 
 really mean to go as far as rebellion ? " 
 
 The blood rushed to my face. 
 
 " It is not a question of tea, sir," I answered hotly ; " nor 
 yet of tuppence. It is a question of principle, which means 
 more to Englishmen than life itself. And we are English- 
 men." 
 
 I believe 1 spoke louder than I intended, for a silence 
 followed my words. Fox glanced at Comyn, who of all of 
 them at the table was not smiling, and said : — 
 
 " I thought you came of a loyalist family, Mr. Carvel." 
 
 ''King George has no more loyal servants than the Ameri- 
 cans, Mr. Fox, be they Tory or Whig. And he has but to 
 read our petitions to discover it," I said. 
 
 I spoke calmly, but my heart was thumping with excitement
 
 "UPSTAIES INTO THE WORLD" 299 
 
 and resentment. The apprehension of the untried is apt to be 
 sharp at such moments, and I looked for them to turn their 
 backs upon me for an impertinent provincial. Indeed, I think 
 they would have, all save Comjm, had it not been for Fox 
 himself. He lighted a pipe, smiled, and began easily, quite 
 dispassionately, to address me. 
 
 "I wish you would favour us with your point of view, Mr. 
 Carvel," said he ; " for, upon my soul, I know little about the 
 subject." 
 
 " You know little about the subject, and you in Parliament ! " 
 I cried. 
 
 This started them all to laughing. Why, I did not then 
 understand. But I was angry enough. 
 
 " Come, let's have it ! " said he. 
 
 They drew their chairs closer, some wearing that smile of 
 superiority which to us is the Englishman's most maddening 
 trait. I did not stop to think twice, or to remember that I 
 was pitted against the greatest debater in all England. I was 
 to speak that of which I was full, and the heart's argument 
 needs no logic to defend it. If it were my last word, I would 
 pronounce it. 
 
 I began by telling them that the Americans had paid their 
 share of the Erench war, in blood and money, twice over. 
 And I had the figures in my memory. Mr. Fox interrupted. 
 For ten minutes at a space he spoke, and in all my life I have 
 never talked to a man who had the English of King James's Bible, 
 of Shakespeare, and Milton so wholly at his command. And 
 his knowledge of history, his classical citations, confounded 
 me. I forgot myself in wondering how one who had lived so 
 fast had acquired such learning. Afterward, when I tried to 
 recall what he said, T laughed at his surprising ignorance of 
 the question at issue, and wondered where my wits could have 
 gone that I allowed myself to be dazzled and turned aside at 
 every corner. As his speech came faster he twisted fact into 
 fiction and fiction into fact, until I must needs close my mind 
 and bolt the shutters of it, or he had betrayed me into confess- 
 ing the right of Parliament to quarter troops among us. 
 Though my head swam, I clung doggedly to my text And
 
 300 EICHARD CARVEL 
 
 that was my salvation. He grew more excited, and they ap 
 plauded him. In truth, I myself felt near to clapping. And 
 then, as I stared him in the eye, marvelling how a man of siich 
 vast power and ability could stand for such rotten practices, 
 the thought came to me (I know not whence) of Saint Paul 
 the Apostle. 
 
 "Mr. Fox," I said, when he had paused, "before God, do 
 you believe what you are saying ? " 
 
 I saw them smiling at my earnestness and simplicity. Fox 
 seemed surprised, and laughed evasively, — not heartily as was 
 his wont. 
 
 " My dear Mr. Carvel," he said, glancing around the circle, 
 " political principles are not to be swallowed like religion, but 
 taken rather like medicine, experimentally. If they agree with 
 you, very good. If not, drop them and try others. We are 
 always ready to listen to remedies, here." 
 
 " Ay, if they agree with you ! " I exclaimed. " But food for 
 one is poison for another. Do you know what you are doing ? 
 You are pushing home injustice and tyranny to the millions, 
 for the benetit of the thousands. For is it not true, gentlemen, 
 that the great masses of England are against the measures you 
 imposi. upon us ? Their fight is our fight. They are no longer 
 represented in Parliament; we have never been. Taxation 
 without representation is true of your rotten boroughs as well 
 as of your vast colonies. You are helping the King to crush 
 freedom abroad in order that he may the more easily break it 
 at home. You are committing a crime. 
 
 " I tell you we would give up all we own were the glory or 
 honour of England at stake. And yet you call us rebels, and 
 accuse us of meanness and of parsimony. If you wish money, 
 leave the matter to ou^- colonial assemblies, and see how readily 
 you will get it. But if you wish war, persist in trying to grind 
 the spirit from a people who have in them the pride of your 
 own ancestors. Yes, you are estranging the colonies, gentlemen. 
 A greater man than I has warned you." 
 
 And with that I rose, believing that I had given them all 
 mortal offence. To my astonishment several got to their feet 
 in front of me, huzzaing, and Comyn and Lord Ossory grasped
 
 "UPSTAIRS INTO THE WORLD" 301 
 
 my hands. And Charles Fox reached out over the corner of 
 the table and pulled me back into my chair. 
 
 " Bravo, Richard Carvel ! " he cried. " Cursed if I don't 
 love a man who will put up a fight against odds. Who will 
 stand bluff to what he believes, and won't be talked out of his 
 boots. We won't quarrel with any such here, my buckskin, I 
 can tell you." 
 
 And that is the simple story, my dears, of the beginning of 
 my friendship with one who may rightly be called the Saint 
 Paul of English politics. He had yet some distance to go, alas, 
 ere he was to begin tliat sturdy battle for the right for which 
 his countrymen and ours will always bless him. I gave him 
 my hand with a better will than I had ever done anything, and 
 we pressed our fingers numb. And his was not the only hand 
 I clasped. And honest Jack Comyn ordered more wine, that 
 they might drink to a speedy reconciliation with America. 
 
 " A pint bumper to Richard Carvel ! " said Mr. Fitzpatrick. 
 
 I pledged Brooks's Club in another pint. Upon which they 
 swore that I was a good fellow, and that if all American Whigs 
 were like me, all cause of quarrel was at an end. Of this I was 
 not so sure, nor could I see that the question had been ^.ettled 
 one way or another. And that night I had reason to thank 
 the Reverend Mr. Allen, for the first and last time in my life, 
 that I could stand a deal of liquor, and yet not roll bottom 
 upward. 
 
 The dinner was settled on the Baptist, who paid for it with- 
 out a murmur. And then we adjourned to the business of the 
 evening. The great drawing-room, lighted by an hundred 
 candles, was filled with gayly dressed macaronies, and the 
 sound of their laughter and voices in contention mingled with 
 the pounding of the packs on the mahogany and the rattle of 
 the dice and the ring of the gold pieces. The sight was daz- 
 zling, and the noise distracting. Fox had me under his 
 especial care, and I was presented to young gentlemen who 
 bore names that had been the boast of England through the 
 centuries. Lands their forebears had won by lance and sword, 
 they were squandering away as fast as ever they could. I, too, 
 was known. All had heard the romance of the Beauty and
 
 302 EICHAED CARVEL 
 
 Castle Yard, and some liad listened to Horry Walpole tell that 
 foolish story of Goble at Windsor, on which he seemed to set 
 such store. They guessed at my weight. They betted upon 
 it. And they wished to know if I could spin Mr. Brooks, who 
 was scraping his way from table to table. They gave me 
 choice of whist, or picquet, or quinze, or hazard. 1 was carried 
 away. Nay, I make no excuse. Tho' the times were drinking 
 and gaming ones, I had been brought up that a gentleman 
 should do both in moderation. AVe mounted, some dozen of us, 
 to the floor above, and passed along to a room of which Fox 
 had the key ; and he swung me in on his arm, the others press- 
 ing after. And the door was scarce closed and locked again, 
 before they began stripping off their clothes. 
 
 To my astonishment. Fox handed me a great frieze coat, 
 which he bade me don, as the others were doing. Some were 
 turning their coats inside out ; for luck, said they ; and putting 
 on footman's leather guards to save their ruffles. And they 
 gave me a hat with a high crown, and a broad brim to save my 
 eyes from the candle glare. We were as grotesque a set as 
 ever I laid my eyes upon. But I hasten over the scene, which 
 has long become distasteful to me. I mention it only to show 
 to what heights of folly the young men had gone. I recall a 
 gasp when they told me they played for rouleaux of ten pounds 
 each, but I took out my pocket-book as boldly as tho' I had 
 never played for less, and laid my stake upon the board. Fox 
 lost, again and again ; but he treated his ill-luck with such a 
 raillery of contemptuous wit, that we must needs laugh with 
 him. Comyn, too, lost, and at supper excused himself, saying 
 that he had promised his mother, the dowager countess, not to 
 lose more than a quarter's income at a sitting. Bat I won 
 and v/on, until the fever of it got into my blood, and as the first 
 faint light of that morning crept into the empty streets, we 
 were still at it, Fox vowing that he never waked up until day- 
 light. That the best things he said in the House came to him 
 it dawn.
 
 CHAPTER XXXIl 
 
 LADY TANKERVILLe's DRUM-MAJOB 
 
 The rising suu, as he came through the little panes of the 
 windows, etched a picture of tiiat room into my brain. I can 
 see the twisted candles with their Avax smearing the sticks, 
 the chairs awry, the tables littered with blackened pipes, and 
 bottles, and spilled wine and tobacco among the dice ; and 
 the few that were left of my companions, some with dark lines 
 under their eyes, all pale, but all gay, unconcerned, witty, and 
 cynical ; smoothing their ruffles, and brushing the ashes and 
 snuff from the pattern of their waistcoats. As we went down- 
 stairs, singing a song Mr. Foote had put upon the stage 
 that week, they were good enough to declare that I should 
 never be permitted to go back to Maryland. That my grand- 
 father should buy me a certain borough, which might be had 
 for six thousand pounds. 
 
 The drawing-room made a dismal scene, too, after the riot 
 and disorder of the night. Sleepy servants were cleaning up, 
 but Fox vowed that they should bring us yet another bottle 
 before going home. So down we sat about the famous old 
 round table. Fox fingering the dents the gold had made in the 
 board, and philosophizing; and reciting Orlando Furioso in 
 the Italian, and Herodotus in the original Greek. Suddenly 
 casting his eyes about, they fell upon an ungainly form, 
 stretched on a lounge, that made us all start. 
 
 " Bully ! " he cried ; " I'll lay you fifty guineas that Mr. 
 Carvel gets the Beauty, against Ohartersea." 
 
 This roused me. 
 
 " Nay, Mr. Fox, I beg of you," I protested, with all the 
 
 303 '
 
 304 EICHARD CAKVEL 
 
 vehemence I could muster. " Miss Manners must not be writ 
 down in such a way." 
 
 For answer he snapped his fingers at the drowsy Brooks, 
 who brought the betting book. 
 
 " There ! " says he ; '' and there, and there," turning over 
 the pages ; '' her name adorns a dozen leaves, my fine buck- 
 skin. And it will be well to have some truth about her. 
 Enter the wager, Brooks." 
 
 " Hold ! " shouts Bolingbroke ; " I haven't accepted." 
 
 You may be sure I was in an agony over this desecration, 
 which I Avas so powerless to prevent. But as I was thanking 
 my stars that the matter had blown over with Bolingbroke's 
 rejection, there occurred a most 'singular thing. 
 
 The figure on the lounge, with vast difficulty, sat up. To 
 our amazement we beheld the bloated face of the Duke of 
 Chartersea staring stupidly. 
 
 " Damme, Bully, you refushe bet like tha' ! " he said. " I'll 
 take doshen of 'em — doshen, egad. Gimme the book, Brooksh. 
 Cursh Fox — lay thousand d — d provinshial never getsh 'er 
 — I know — " 
 
 I sat very still, seized with a loathing beyond my power to 
 describe to think that this was the man Mr. Manners was 
 forcing her to marry. Fox laughed. 
 
 " Help his Grace to his coach," he said to two of the footmen. 
 
 " Kill fellow firsht ! " cried his Grace, with his hand on his 
 sword, and instantly fell over, and went sound asleep. 
 
 " His Grace has sent his coach home, your honour," said one 
 of the men, respectfully. " The duke is very quarrelsome, sir." 
 
 " Put him in a chair, then," said Charles. 
 
 So they fearfully lifted his Grace, who was too far gone to 
 resist, and carried him to a chair. And Mr. Fox bribed the 
 chairmen with two guineas apiece, which he borrowed from 
 me, to set his Grace down amongst the marketwomen at 
 Covent Garden. 
 
 The next morning Banks found in my pockets something 
 over seven hundred pounds more than I had had the day 
 before.
 
 LA.DY TANKERVILLE'S DRUM-MAJOR 305 
 
 I rose late, my head swimming with mains and nicks, and 
 combinations of all the numbers under the dozen ; debated 
 whether or no I would go to Arlington Street, and decided that 
 I had not the courage. Corayn settled it by coming in his 
 cabriolet, proposed that we should get the air in the park, 
 dine at the Cocoa Tree, and go afterwards to Lady Tanker- 
 ville's drum-major, where Dolly would undoubtedly be. 
 
 "Now you are here, Richard," said his Lordship, with his 
 accustomed bluntness, " and your ^ea-captain has relieved your 
 Quixotic conscience, what the deuce do you intend to do ? 
 Win a thousand pounds every night at Brooks's, or improve 
 your time and do your duty, and get Miss Manners out of his 
 Grace's clutches ? I'll warrant something will come of tliat 
 matter this morning." 
 
 " I hope so," I said shortly. 
 
 Comyn looked at me sharply. 
 
 " Would you fight him ? " he asked. 
 
 " If he gave me the chance." 
 
 His Lordship whistled. "Egad, then," said he, "I shall 
 want to be there to see. In spite of his pudding-bag shape he 
 handles the sword as well as any man in England. 1 have 
 crossed with him at Angelo's. And he has a devilish tricky 
 record, Richard." 
 
 I said nothing to that. 
 
 " Hope you do kill him," Comyn continued. " He deserves 
 it richly. But that will be a cursed unpleasant way of settling 
 the business, — unpleasant for you, unpleasant for her, and 
 cursed unpleasant for him, too, I suppose. Can't you think of 
 any other way of getting her ? Ask Charles to give you a plan 
 of campaign. You haven't any sense, and neither have I." 
 
 " Hang you, Jack, I have no hopes of getting her," I replied, 
 for I was out of humour with myself that day. "In spite of 
 what you say, I know she doesn't care a brass farthing to 
 marry me. So let's drop that." 
 
 Comyn made a comic gesture of deprecation. I went on : — 
 
 " But I am going to stay here and find out the truth, though 
 it may be a foolish undertaking. And if he is intimidating 
 Mr. Manners — "
 
 306 RICHAED CARVEL 
 
 "You may count on me, and on Charles," said my Lord, 
 generously; "and there are some others I know of. Gad! 
 You made a dozen of friends and admirers by what you said 
 last night, Richard. And his Grace has a few enemies. You 
 will not lack support." 
 
 We dined very comfortably at the Cocoa Tree, where Comyn 
 had made an appointment for me with two as diverting gentle- 
 men as had ever been my lot to meet. My Lord Carlisle was 
 the poet and scholar of the little clique which had been to 
 Eton with Charles Fox, any member of which (so 'twas said) 
 would have died for him. His Lordship, be it remarked in 
 passing, was as lively a poet and scholar as can well be imag- 
 ined. He had been recently sobered, so Comyn confided ; which 
 I afterwards discovered meant married. Charles Fox's word 
 for the same was fallen. And I remembered that Jack had 
 told me it was to visit Lady Carlisle at Castle Howard that 
 Dorothy was going when she heard of my disappearance. 
 Comyn's other guest was Mr. Topham Beauclerk, the maca- 
 roni friend of Dr. Johnson. He, too, had been recently 
 married, but appeared no more sobered than his Lordship. 
 Mr. Beauclerk's wife, by the way, was the beautiful Lady 
 Diana Spencer, who had been divorced from Lord Boling- 
 broke, the Bidly I had met the night before. These gentle- 
 men seemed both well acquainted with Miss Manners, and 
 vowed that none but American beauties would ever be the 
 fashion in London more. Then we all drove to Lady Tanker- 
 ville's drum-major near Chesterfield House. 
 
 " You will be wanting a word with her when she comes in," 
 said Comyn, slyly divining. Poor fellow ! I fear that I 
 scarcely appreciated his feelings as to Dorothy, or the noble 
 unselfishness of his friendship for me. 
 
 We sat aside in a recess of the lower hall, watching the 
 throng as they passed : haughty dowagers, distorted in lead 
 and disfigured in silk and feathers nodding at the ceiling; 
 accomplished beaus of threescore or more, carefully mended 
 for the night by their Frenchmen at home ; young ladies in 
 gay brocades with round skirts and stiff, pear-shaped bodices ; 
 and youngsters just learning to ogle and to handle their snuff-
 
 LADY TANKERVILLE'S DRUM-MAJOR 307 
 
 boxes. One by one their names were sent up and solemnly 
 mouthed by the footman on the landing. At length, when we 
 had all but given her up, Dorothy arrived, A hood of lavender 
 silk heightened the oval of her face, and out from under it crept 
 rebellious wisps of her dark hair. But she was very pale, and 
 I noticed for the first time a worn expression that gave me a 
 twinge of uneasiness. 'Twas then I caught sight of the duke, 
 a surly stamp on his leaden features. And after him danced 
 Mr. Manners. Dolly gave a little cry when she saw me. 
 
 " Oh ! Richard, I am so glad you are here. I was wondering 
 what had become of you. And Comyn, too." Whispering to 
 me, "Mamma has had a letter from Mrs. Brice; your grand- 
 father has been to walk in the garden." 
 
 " And Grafton ? " 
 
 ** She said nothing of your uncle," she replied, with a little 
 shudder at the name ; " but wrote that Mr. Carvel was said to 
 be better. So there ! your conscience need not trouble you for 
 remaining. I am sure he would wish you to pay a visit home. 
 And I have to scold you, sir. You have not been to Arlington 
 Street for three whole days." 
 
 It struck me suddenly that her gayety was the same as that 
 she had worn to my birthday party, scarce a year agone. 
 
 " Dolly, you are not well ! " I said anxiously. 
 
 She flung her head saucily for answei*. In the mea-ntime 
 his Grace, talking coldly to Comyn, had been looking unutter- 
 able thunders at me. I thought of him awaking in the dew at 
 Covent Garden, and could scarce keep from laughing in his 
 face. Mr. Marmaduke squirmed to the front. 
 
 " Morning, Richard," he said, with a marked cordiality. 
 " Have you met the Duke of Chartersea ? No ! Your Grace, 
 this is Mr. Richard Carvel. His family are dear friends of 
 ours in the colonies." 
 
 To my great surprise, the duke saluted me quite civilly. But 
 I had the feeling of facing a treacherous bull which would gore 
 me as soon as ever my back was turned. He was always put- 
 ting rae in mind of a bull, with his short neck and heavy, 
 hunched shoulders, — and with the ugly tinge of red in the 
 whites of his eyes.
 
 308 KICHARD CARVEL 
 
 " Mr. Manners tells me you are to remain awhile in London, 
 Mr. Carvel," he said, in his thick voice. 
 
 I took his meaning instantly, and replied in kind. 
 
 " Yes, your Grace, I have some business to attend to here." 
 
 " Ah," he answered ; " then I shall see you again." 
 
 " Probably, sir," said I. 
 
 His Lordship watched this thrust and parry with an ill-con- 
 cealed delight. Dorothy's face was impassive, expressionless. 
 As the duke turned to mount the stairs, he stumbled clumsily 
 across a young man coming to pay his respects to Miss Manners, 
 and his Grace went sprawling against the wall. 
 
 " Confound you, sir ! " he cried. 
 
 For the ducal temper was no respecter of presences. Then 
 a title was a title to those born lower, and the young man 
 plainly had a vast honour for a coronet. 
 
 " I beg your Grace's pardon," said he. 
 
 " Who the deuce is he ? " demanded the duke petulantly of 
 Mr. Manners, thereby setting the poor little man all a-tremble. 
 
 "Why, why, — " he replied, searching for his spyglass. 
 
 For an instant Dolly's eyes shot scorn. Chartersea had 
 clearly seen and heeded that signal before. 
 
 " The gentleman is a friend of mine," she said. 
 
 Tho' I were put out of the Garden of Eden as a conse- 
 quence, I itched to have it out with his Grace then and there. 
 I knew that I was bound to come into collision with him 
 sooner or later. Such, indeed, was my mission in London. 
 But Dorothy led the way upstairs, a spot of colour burning 
 each of her cheeks. The stream of guests had been arrested 
 until the hall was packed, and the curious were peering over 
 the rail above. 
 
 " Lord, wasn't she superb ! " exclaimed Comyn, exultingly, 
 as we followed. In the drawing-room the buzzing about the 
 card tables was hushed a moment as she went in. But I soon 
 lost sight of her, thanks to Comvn. He drew me on from 
 group to group, and I was duly presented to a score of Lady 
 So-and-sos and honourable misses, most of whom had titles, 
 but little else. Mammas searched their memories, and sud- 
 denly discovered that they had heard their parents speak of
 
 LADY TANKERVILLE'S DRUM-MAJOfl 309 
 
 my grandfather. But, as it was a fair presumption that most 
 colonial gentlemen made a visit home at least once in their 
 lives, I did not allow the dust to get into my eyes. I was in- 
 vited to dinners, and fairly showered with invitations to balls 
 and drums and garden parties. I was twitted about the 
 Beauty, most often with only a thin coating of amiability 
 covering the spite of the remark. In short, if my head had 
 not been so heavily laden with other matters, it might well 
 have become light under the strain. Had I been ambitious to 
 enter the arena I should have had but little trouble, since 
 eligibility then might be reduced to guineas and another ele- 
 ment not moral. I was the only heir of one of the richest 
 men in the colony, vouched for by the Manners and taken up 
 by Mr. Fox and my Lord Comyn. Inquiries are not pushed 
 farther. I could not help seeing the hardness of it all, or 
 refrain from contrasting my situation with that of the penni- 
 less outcast I had been but a little time before. The gilded 
 rooms, the hundred yellow candles multiplied by the mirrors, 
 the powder, the perfume, the jewels, — all put me in mind of 
 the poor devils I had left wasting away their lives in Castle 
 Yard. They, too, had had their times of prosperity, their 
 friends who had faded with the first waning of fortune. Some 
 of them had known what it was to be fawned over. And how 
 many of these careless, flitting men of fashion I looked upon 
 could feel the ground firm beneath their feet ; or could say 
 with certainty what a change of ministers, or one wild night 
 at White's or Almack's, would bring forth ? Verily, one miist 
 have seen the under side of life to know the upper ! 
 
 Presently I was sought out by Mr. Topham Beauclerk, who 
 had heard of the episode below and wished to hear more. He 
 swore at the duke. 
 
 "He will be run through some day, and serve him jolly 
 right," said he. '' Bet you twenty pounds Charles Fox does it ! 
 His Grace knows he has the courage to fight him." 
 
 " The courage ! " I repeated. 
 
 " Yes. Angeio says the duke has diabolical skill. And 
 then he won't fight fair. He killed young Atwater on a foul, 
 you know. Slipped on the wet grass, and Chartersea had him
 
 310 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 pinned before he caught his guard. But there is Lady Di 
 a-calling, a-calling." 
 
 "Do all the women cheat in America too ? " asked Topham, 
 as we approached. 
 
 I thought of my Aunt Caroline, and laughed. 
 
 " Some," I answered. 
 
 " They will game, d — n 'em," said Topham, as tho' he had 
 never gamed in his life. "And they will cheat, till a man has 
 to close his eyes to keep from seeing their pretty hands. And 
 they will cry, egad, oh so touchingly, if the luck goes against 
 them in spite of it all. Only last week I had to forgive Mrs 
 Farnham an hundred guineas. She said she'd lost her pin- 
 money twice over, and was like to have wept her eyes out." 
 
 Thus primed in Topham's frank terms, I knew what to 
 expect. And I found to my amusement he had not overrun 
 the truth. I lost like a stoic, saw nothing, and discovered the 
 straight road to popularity. 
 
 " The dear things expect us to make it up at the clubs," 
 whispered he. 
 
 I discovered how he had fallen in love with his wife, Lady 
 Diana, and pitied poor Bolingbroke heartily for having lost 
 her. She was then in her prime, — a beauty, a wit, and a 
 great lady, with a dash of the humanities about her that 
 brought both men and women to her feet. 
 
 " You must come to see me, Mr. Carvel," said she. " I wish 
 to talk to you of Dorothy." 
 
 " Your Ladyship believes me versed in no other subject ? " I 
 asked. 
 
 " None other worth the mention," she replied instantly ; 
 " Topham tells me you can talk horses, and that mystery of 
 mysteries, American politics. But look at Miss Manners now. 
 I'll warrant she is making Sir Charles see to his laurels, and 
 young Stavordale is struck dumb." 
 
 I looked up quickly and beheld Dolly surrounded by a circle 
 of admirers. 
 
 " Mark the shot strike ! " Lady Di continued, between the 
 deals; "that time Chartersea went down. I fancy he is 
 bowled over rather often," she said slyly. " What a brute it
 
 LADY TANKERVILLE'S DRUM-MAJOR 311 
 
 is. And they say that that little woman she has for a 
 father imagines a union with the duke will redound to his 
 glory." 
 
 ''They say," remarked Mrs. Meynel, sitting next me, ''that 
 the duke has thumbscrews of some kind on Mr. Manners." 
 
 "Miss Manners is able to take care of herself," said 
 Topham. 
 
 " 0)1 dit, that she has already refused as many dukes as did 
 her Grace of Argyle," said Mrs. Meynel. 
 
 I had lost track of the cards, and knew I was losing pro- 
 digiously. But my eyes went back again and again to the 
 group by the doorway, where Dolly was holding court and dis- 
 pensing justice, and perchance injustice. The circle increased. 
 Ribands, generals whose chests were covered with medals of 
 valour, French noblemen, and foreign ambassadors stopped for 
 a word with the Beauty and passed on their way, some smiling, 
 some reflecting, to make room for others. I overheard from 
 the neighbouring tables a spiteful protest that a young upstart 
 from the colonies should turn Lady Tankerville's drum into a 
 levee. My ears tingled as I listened. But not a feathered 
 parrot in the carping lot of them could deny that Miss Man- 
 ners had beauty and wit enough to keep them all at bay. 
 Hers was not an English beauty : every line of her face and 
 pose of her body proclaimed her of that noble type of Mary- 
 land women, distinctly American, over which many English- 
 men before and since have lost their heads and hearts. 
 
 "Egad!" exclaimed Mr. Storer, who was looking on; "she's 
 already defeated some of the Treasury Bench, and bless me if 
 she isn't rating North himself." 
 
 Half the heads in the room were turned toward Miss Man- 
 ners, who was exchanging jokes with the Prime Minister of 
 Great Britain. I saw a corpulent man, ludicrously like the 
 King's pictures, with bulging gray ej^es that seemed to take 
 in nothing. And this was North, upon whose conduct with 
 the King depended the fate of our America. Good-natured he 
 was, and his laziness was painfully apparent. He had the 
 reputation of going to sleep standing, like a horse. 
 
 " But the Beauty contrives to keep him awake," said Storer.
 
 312 EICHARD CARVEL 
 
 " If you stay among us, Mr. Carvel," said Topham, " she wil* 
 get you a commissionership for the asking." 
 
 " Look," cried Lady Di, " there conies Mr. Fox, the preco- 
 cious, the irresistible. Were he in the Bible, we should read 
 of him passing the time of day with King Solomon." 
 
 "Or instructing Daniel in the art of lion-taming," put in 
 Mrs. Meynel. 
 
 There was Mr. Fox in truth, and the Beauty's face lighted 
 up at sight of him. And presently, when Lord North had 
 made his bow and passed on, he was seen to lead her out of 
 the room, leaving her circle to go to pieces, like an empire 
 without a head.
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII 
 
 DRURY LANE 
 
 After a night spent in making resolutions, I set out foi 
 Arlington Street, my heart beating a march, as it had when I 
 went thither on my arrival in London. Such was my excite- 
 ment that I was near to being run over in Piccadilly like many 
 another country gentlemaii, and roundly cursed by a wagoner 
 for my stupidity. I had a hollow bigness within me, half of 
 joy, half of pain, that sent me onward with ever increasing 
 steps and a whirling storm of contradictions in my head. Now 
 it was : Dolly loved me in spite of all the great men in Eng- 
 land. Why, otherwise, had she come to the sponging-house ? 
 Berating myself : had her affection been other than that of a 
 life-long friendship she would not have come an inch. But 
 why had she made me stay in London ? Why had she spoken 
 so to Comyn? What interpretation might be piit upon a score 
 of little acts of hers that came a-flooding to mind, each a sacred 
 treasure of memory ? A lover's interpretation, forsooth. Eie, 
 Richard ! what presumption to think that you, a raw lad, 
 should have a chance in such a field ! You have yet, by dint 
 of hard knocks and buffets, to learn the world. 
 
 By this I had come in sight of her house, and suddenly I 
 trembled like a green horse before a cannon. My courage ran 
 out so fast that I was soon left without any, and my legs had 
 carried me as far as St. James's Church before I could bring 
 them up. Then I was sure, for the first time, that she did not 
 love me. In front of the church I halted, reflecting that I had 
 not remained in England with any hope of it, but rather to 
 discover the truth about Chartersea's actions, and to save her, 
 if it were possible. I turned back once more, and now got as 
 
 313
 
 314 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 far as the knocker, and lifted it as a belfry was striking the 
 hour of noon, I think I would have fled again had not the 
 door been immediately opened. 
 
 Once more I found myself in the room looking out over the 
 Park, the French windows open to the balcony, the sunlight 
 flowing in with the spring-scented air. On the table was 
 lying a little leather book, stamped with gold, — her prayer- 
 book. Well 1 remembered it ! I opened it, to read : " Doro- 
 thy, from her Mother. Annapolis, Christmas, 1768." The 
 sweet vista of the past stretched before my eyes. I saw her, 
 on such a Mayday as this, walking to St. Anne's under the 
 grand old trees, their budding leaves casting a delicate tracery 
 at her feet. I followed her up the aisle until she disappeared 
 in the high pew, and then I sat beside my grandfather and 
 thought of her, nor listened to a word of Mr. Allen's sermon. 
 Why had they ever taken her to London ? 
 
 When she came in I sought her face anxiously. She was 
 still pale ; and I thought, despite her smile, that a trace of 
 sadness lingered in her eyes. 
 
 " At last, sir, you have come," she said severely. " Sit 
 down and give an account of yourself at once. You have been 
 behaving very badly." 
 
 '' Dorothy — " 
 
 "Pray don't 'Dorothy' me, sir. But explain where you 
 liave been for this week past." 
 
 "But, Dolly — " 
 
 " You pretend to have some affection for your old playmate, 
 but you do not trouble yourself to come to see her." 
 
 " Indeed, you do me wrong." 
 
 " Do you wrong ! You prefer to gallivant about town with 
 Comyn and Charles Fox, and with all those wild gentlemen 
 who go to Brooks's. Nay, I have heard of your goings-on. I 
 shall write to Mr. Carvel to-day, and advise him to send for 
 you. And tell him that you won a thousand pounds in one 
 night — " 
 
 "It was only seven hundred," I interrupted sheepishly, I 
 thought she smiled faintly. 
 
 " And will probably lose twenty thousand before you have
 
 DRURY LANE 315 
 
 done. And I shall say to him that you have dared to make 
 bold rebel speeches to a Lord of the Admiralty and to some of 
 the King's supporters. I shall tell your grandfather you are 
 disgracing him." 
 
 "Rebel speeches!" I cried. 
 
 " Yes, rebel speeches at Almack's. Who ever heard of such 
 a thing ! No doubt I shall hear next of your going to a 
 drawing-room and instructing his Majesty how to subdue the 
 colonies. And then, sir, you will be sent to the Tower, and I 
 shan't move a finger to get you out." 
 
 " Who told you of this, Dolly ? " I demanded 
 
 " Mr. Fox, himself, for one. He thought it so good, — or so 
 bad, — that he took me aside last night at Lady Tankerville's, 
 asked me why I had let you out of Castle Yard, and told me I 
 must manage to curb your tongue. I replied that I had about 
 as much influence with you as I have with Dr. Franklin." 
 
 I laughed. 
 
 " I saw Fox lead you off," I said. 
 
 '' Oh, you did, did you ! " she retorted. " But you never 
 once came near me yourself, save when I chanced to meet you 
 in the hall, tho' I was there a full three hours." 
 
 " How could I ! " I exclaimed. " You. were surrounded by 
 prime ministers and ambassadors, aud Heaven knows how 
 many other great people." 
 
 " When you wish to do anything, Richard, you usually find 
 a way." 
 
 "Nay," I answered, despairing, "I can never explain any- 
 thing to you, Dolly. Your tongue is too quick for mine." 
 
 " Why didn't you go home with your captain ? " she asked 
 mockingly, 
 
 " Do you know why I stayed ? " 
 
 " I suppose because you want to be a gay spark and taste of 
 the pleasures of London. That is, what you men are pleased 
 to call pleasures. I can think of no other reason." 
 
 " There is another," I said desperately. 
 
 " Ah," said Dolly. And in her old aggravating way she got 
 up and stood in the window, looking out over the park. I rose 
 and stood beside her, my very temples throbbing.
 
 316 RICHAED CARVEL 
 
 " We have no such springs at home," she said. " But oh, 1 
 wish I were at Wilmot House to-day ! " 
 
 " There is another reason," I repeated. My voice sounded 
 far away, like that of anotlier. I saw the colour come into her 
 cheeks again, slowly. The southwest wind, with a whiff of 
 the channel salt in it, blew the curtains at our backs. 
 
 " You have a conscience, Richard," she said gently, without 
 turning. " So few of us have." 
 
 I was surprised. Nor did I know what to make of that : 
 there were so many meanings. 
 
 " You are wild," she continued, " and impulsive, as they say 
 your father was. But he was a man I should have honoured. 
 He stood firm beside his friends. He made his enemies fear 
 him. All strong men must have enemies, I suppose. They 
 must make them." 
 
 I looked at her, troubled, puzzled, but burning at her praise 
 of Captain Jack. 
 
 "Dolly," I cried, "you are not well. Why won't you come 
 back to Maryland ? " 
 
 She did not reply to that. Then she faced me suddenly. 
 
 " Richard, I know now why you insisted upon going back. 
 It was because you would not desert your sea-captain Comyn 
 and Mr. Fox have told me, and they admire you for it as much 
 as I." 
 
 What language is worthy to describe her as she Avas then in 
 that pose, with her head high, as she was wont to ride over the 
 field after the hounds. Hers was in truth no beauty of stone, 
 but the beauty of force, — of life itself. 
 
 " Dorothy," I cried ; " Dorothy, I stayed because I love you. 
 There, I have said it again, what has not passed my lips since 
 we were children. What has been in my heart ever since." 
 
 I stopped, awed. For she had stepped back, out on the bal- 
 cony. She hid her head in her hands, and I saw her breast 
 shaken as with sobs. I waited what seemed a day, — a year. 
 Then she raised her face and looked at me through the tears 
 shining in her eyes. 
 
 " Richard," she said sadly, " Avhy, why did you ever tell 
 me ? Why can we not always be playmates ? "
 
 DEURY LANE 317 
 
 The words I tried to say choked me. I could not speak for 
 sorrow, for very bitterness. And yet I might have known ! I 
 dared not look at her again. 
 
 " Dear Kiehard," I heard her say, " God alone understands 
 how it hurts me to give you pain. Had I only foreseen — " 
 
 '' Had you only foreseen," I said quickly. 
 
 " I should never have let you speak." 
 
 Her words came steadily, but painfully. And when I raised 
 my eyes she met them bravely. 
 
 " You must have seen," I cried. <' These years I have loved 
 you, nor could I have hidden it if I had wished. But I have 
 little to offer you," I went on cruelly, for I knew not what I 
 said; '-you who may have English lands and titles for the 
 consenting. I Avas a fool." 
 
 Her tears started again. And at sight of them I was seized 
 with such remorse that I could have bitten my tongue in two. 
 
 " Forgive me, Dorothy, if you can," I implored. " I did not 
 mean it. ISTor did I presume to think you loved me. I have 
 adored, — I shall be content to adore from far below. And I 
 stayed, — I stayed that I might save you if a danger threat- 
 ened." 
 
 " Danger ! " she exclaimed, catching her breath. 
 
 ''I will come to the point," I said. "I stayed to save you 
 from the Duke of Chartersea." 
 
 She grasped the balcony rail, and I think would have fallen 
 but for my arm. Then she straightened, and only the quiver 
 of her lip marked the effort. 
 
 " To save me from the Duke of Chartersea ? " she said, so 
 coldly that my conviction was shaken. " Expla,iu yourself, 
 sir." 
 
 " You cannot love him ! " I cried, amazed. 
 
 She flashed upon me a glance I shall never forget. 
 
 "Richard Carvel," she said, "you have gone too far. 
 Though you have been my friend all my life, there are some 
 things which even you cannot say to me." 
 
 And she left me abruptly and went into the house, her head 
 flung back. And I followed in a tumult of mortification and 
 wounded pride, in such a state of dejection that I wished I had
 
 318 KICHARD CAEVEL 
 
 never been born. But hers was a nature of surprises, and im 
 pulsive, like my own. Beside the cabinet she turned, calm 
 again, all trace of anger vanished from her face. Drawing a 
 hawthorn sprig from a porcelain vase I had given her, she put 
 it in my hand. 
 
 " Let us forget this, Richard," said she ; " we have both been 
 very foolish." 
 
 .AT, .tfi, .U, ^ jb 4t 
 
 rJP TP TT TV" ^ ^ 
 
 Forget, indeed ! Unless Heaven had robbed me of reason, 
 had torn the past from me at a single stroke. I could not have 
 forgotten. When I reached my lodgings I sent the anxious 
 Banks about his business and threw myself in a great chair 
 before the window, the chair she had chosen. Strange to say, 
 I had no sensation save numbness. The time must have been 
 about two of the clock : I took no account of it. I recall Banks 
 coming timidly back with the news that two gentlemen had 
 called. I bade him send them away. Would my honour not 
 have I'lrs. Marble cook my dinner, and be dressed for Lady 
 Pembroke's ball ? I sent him off again, harshly. 
 
 After a long while the slainming of a coach door roused me, 
 and I was straightway seized with such an agony of mind that 
 I could have cried aloud. 'Twas like the pain of blood flowing 
 back into a frozen limb. Darkness was fast gathering as I 
 reached the street and began to walk madly. Word by word 
 I rehearsed the scene in the drawing-room over the Park, but I 
 could not think calmly, for the pain of it. Little by little I 
 probed, writhing, until far back in my boyhood I was tearing 
 at the dead roots of that cherished plant, which was the Hope 
 of Her Love. It had grown with my own life, and now with 
 its death to-day I felt that I had lost all that was dear to me. 
 Then, in the midst of this abject self-pity, I was stricken with 
 shame. I thought of Comyn, v/ho had borne the same misfor- 
 tune as a man should. Had his pain been the less because he 
 had not loved her from childhood ? Like Comyn, I resolved 
 to labour for her happiness. 
 
 What hour of the night it was I know not when a man 
 touched me on the shoulder, and I came to myself with a 
 start. I was in a narrow street lined by hideous houses, their
 
 DRUKY LANE 319 
 
 windows glaring with light. Each seemed a skull, with rays 
 darting from its grinning eye-holes. Within I caught glimpses 
 of debauchery that turned me sick. Ten paces away three 
 women and a man were brawling, the low angry tones of his 
 voice mingling with the screeches of their Billingsgate. Muf- 
 fled figures were passing and repassing unconcernedly, some 
 entering the houses, others coming out, and a handsome coach, 
 without arms and with a footman in plain livery, lumbered 
 along and stopped farther on. All this I remarked before I 
 took notice of him who had intercepted me, and demanded 
 what he wanted. 
 
 " Hey, Bill ! " he cried with an oath to a man who stood on 
 the steps opposite ; " 'ere's a soft un as has put 'is gill in." 
 
 The man responded, and behind him came two more of the 
 same feather, and suddenly I found myself surrounded by an 
 ill-smelling crowd of flashy men and tawdry women. They 
 jostled me, and I reached for my sword, to make the discovery 
 that I had forgotten it. Regaining my full senses, I struck 
 the man nearest me a blow that sent him sprawling in the dirt. 
 A blade gleamed under the sickly light of the fish-oil lamp 
 overhead, but a man crashed through from behind and caught 
 the ruffian's sword-arm and flung him back in the kennel. 
 
 ''The watch ! " he cried, " the watch ! " 
 
 They vanished like rats into their holes at the shout, leav- 
 ing me standing alone with him. The affair had come and 
 gone so quickly that I scarce caught my breath. 
 
 " Pardon, sir," he said, knuckling, " but I followed you." 
 
 It was Banks. For a second time he had given me an af- 
 fecting example of his faithfulness. I forgot that he was my 
 servant, and I caught his hand and pressed it. 
 
 " You have saved my life at the risk of your own," I said ; 
 " I shall not forget it." 
 
 But Banks had been too well trained to lose sight of his 
 position. He merely tipped his hat again and said impertur- 
 bably : — 
 
 "Best get out of here, your honour. They'll be coming 
 again directly." 
 
 " Where are we ? " I asked.
 
 320 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 " Drury Lane> sir," lie replied, giving me just the corner of 
 a glance ; *' shall I fetch a coach, sir ? " 
 
 No, I preferred to walk. Before we had turned into Long 
 Acre I had seen all of this Sodom of London that it should be 
 given a man to see, if indeed we must behold some of the 
 bestiality of this world. Here alone, in the great city, high 
 and low were met equal. Sin levels rank. The devil makes 
 no choice between my lord and his kitchen wench who has 
 gone astray. Here, in Sodom, painted vice had lain for an 
 hundred years and bred half the crime of a century. How 
 many souls had gone hence in that time to meet their Maker ! 
 Some of these brazen creatures wh 3 leered at me had known — 
 how long ago ! — a peaceful home and a mother's love ; had 
 been lured in their innocence to this place of horrors, never to 
 leave it until death mercifully overtakes them. Others, having 
 fallen, iiad been driven hither by a cruel world that shelters 
 all save the helpless, that forgives all save the truly penitent. 
 I shuddered as I thought of Mr. Hogarth's prints, which, in the 
 library in Marlboro' Street at home, had had so little meaning 
 for me. Verily he had painted no worse than the reality. 
 
 As I strode homeward, my own sorrow subdued by the 
 greater sorrow I had looked upon, the craving I had had to be 
 alone was gone, and I would have locked arms with a turnspit. 
 I called to Banks, who Avas behind at a respectful distance, 
 and bade him come talk to me. His presence of mind in call- 
 ing on the watch had made even a greater impression upon me 
 than his bravery, T told him that he should have ten pounds, 
 and an increase of wages. And I asked him where I had gone 
 after leaving Dover Street, and why he had folloAved me. He 
 answered this latter question first. He had seen gentlemen in 
 the same state, or something like it, before : his Lordship, his 
 late master, after he had fought with Mr. Onslow, of the 
 Guards, and Sir Edward Minturn, when he had lost an in- 
 heritance and a reversion at Brooks's, and was forced to give 
 over his engagement to marry the Honourable Miss Swift. 
 
 "Lord, sir," he said, "but that was a sad case, as set all 
 London agog. And Sir Edward shot hisself at Portsmouth 
 not a se'nnight after."
 
 DRURY LANE 321 
 
 And he relapsed into silence, no doubt longing to ask the 
 cause of my own affliction. Presently he surprised me by 
 saying : — 
 
 "And I might make so bold, Mr. Carvel, I -would like to 
 tell your honour something." 
 
 1 nodded. And he hawed awhile and then burst out : — 
 
 " Your honour must know then that I belongs to the foot- 
 man's club in Berkeley Square, where I meets all the servants 
 o' quality — " 
 
 " Yes," I said, wondering what footman's tale he had to tell. 
 
 " And Whipple, he's a hintimate o' mine, sir," He stopped 
 again. 
 
 " And who may Whipple be ? " 
 
 '' With submission, sir. Whipple's his Grace o' Chartersea's 
 man — and, you'll forgive me, sir — Whipple owns his Grace 
 is prodigious ugly, an' killed young Mr. Atwater unfair, some 
 think. Whipple says he would give notice had he not promised 
 the old duke — " 
 
 "Drat Whipple!" I cried. 
 
 " Yes, sir. To be sure, sir. His Grace was in a bloody rage 
 when he found hisself in a fruit bin at Covent Garding. An' 
 two redbreasts had carried him to the round house, sir, afore 
 they discovered his title. An' since his Grace ha' said time 
 an' time afore Whipple, that he'll ha' Mr. Carvel's heart for 
 that, and has called you most disgustin' bad names, sir. An' 
 Whipple he says to me : ' Banks, drop your marster a word, an' 
 you get the chance. His Grace'll speak him fair to's face, but 
 let him look behind him.' " 
 
 " I thank you again. Banks. I shall bear in mind your 
 devotion," I replied. " But I had nothing to do with sending 
 the duke to Covent Garden." 
 
 "Ay, sir, so I tells Whipple." 
 
 "Pray, how did you know?" I demanded curiously. 
 
 "Lord, sir! All the servants at Almack's is friends o' 
 mine," says he. "But Whipple declares his Grace will be 
 sworn you did it, sir, tho' the Lord Mayor hisself made depo- 
 sition 'twas not." 
 
 " Then mark me. Banks, you are not to talk of this."
 
 822 RICHAED CARVEL 
 
 " Oh, Lord, no, your honour," he said, as he fell back. But 
 I was not so sure of his discretion as of his loyalty. 
 
 And so I was led to perceive that I was not to be the only 
 aggressor in the struggle that was to come. That his Grace 
 did me the honour to look upon me as an obstacle. And that 
 he intended to seize the first opportunity to make way with 
 me, by fair means or foul.
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV 
 
 HIS GRACE MAKES ADVANCES 
 
 The next morning I began casting about as to what I should 
 do next. There was no longer any chance of getting at the 
 secret from Dorothy, if secret there were. Whilst I am rumi- 
 nating comes a great battling at the street door, and Jack 
 Comyn blew in like a gust of wind, rating me soundly for 
 being a lout and a blockhead. 
 
 " Zooks ! " he cried, " I danced the soles off my shoes try- 
 ing to get in here yesterday, and I hear you were moping all 
 the time, and paid me no more attention than I had been a 
 dog scratching at the door. What ! and have you fallen out 
 with my lady ? " 
 
 I confessed the whole matter to him. He Avas not to be 
 resisted. He called to Banks for a cogue of Nantsey, and 
 swore amazingly at what he was pleased to term the inscruta- 
 bility of woman, offering up consolation by the wholesale. 
 The incident, he said, but strengthened his conviction that Mr. 
 Manners had appealed to Dorothy to save him. " And then," 
 added his Lordship, facing me with absolute fierceness, ''and 
 then, Richard, why the devil did she weep ? There were no 
 tears when I made my avowal. I tell you, man, that the 
 whole thing points but the one way. She loves you. I swear 
 it by the rood." 
 
 I could not help laughing, and he stood looking at me with 
 such a whimsical expression that I rose and flung my arms 
 around him. 
 
 " Jack, Jack ! " I cried, " what a fraud you are ! Do you 
 remember the argument you used when you had got me out of 
 the sponging-house ? Quoting you, all I had to do was to put 
 
 323
 
 324 KICHARD CARVEL 
 
 Dorothy to the proof, and she would toss Mr. Marmaduke and 
 his honour broadcast. Now I have confessed myself, and what 
 is the result ? Nay, your theory is gone up in vapour." 
 
 " Then why," cried his Lordship, hotly, " why before refus- 
 ing me did she demand to know whether you had been in 
 love with Patty Swain ? 'Sdeath ! you put me in mind of a 
 woman upon stilts — a man has always to be walking alongside 
 her with encouragement handy. And when a proud creature 
 such as our young lady breaks down as she hath done, 'tis clear 
 as skylight there is something wrong. And as for Mr. Man- 
 ners, Hare overheard a part of a pow-wow 'twixt him and 
 the duke at the Bedford Arms, — and Chartersea has all but 
 owned in some of his drunken fits that our little fop is in his 
 power." 
 
 " Then she is in love with some one else," I said. 
 
 "I tell you she is not," said Comyn, still more emphatically; 
 " and you can write that down in red in your table book. Gos- 
 sip has never been able to connect her name with that of any 
 man save yours, when she went for you in Castle Yard. And, 
 gemini, gossip is like water, and will get in if a crack shows. 
 When the Marquis of Wells was going to Arlington Street once 
 every day, she sent him about his business in a fortnight." 
 
 Despite Comyn's most unselfish optimism, I could see no 
 light. And in the recklessness that so often besets youngsters 
 of my temper, on like occasions, I went off to Newmarket 
 next day with Mr. Fox and Lord Ossory, in his Lordship's 
 travelling-chaise and four. I spent a very gay week trying 
 to forget Miss Dolly. I was the loser by some three hundred 
 pounds, in addition to what I expended and loaned to Mr. Fox. 
 This young gentleman was then beginning to accumulate at 
 Newmarket a most execrable stud. He lost prodigiously, but 
 seemed in no wise disturbed thereby. I have never known a 
 man who took his ill-luck with such a stoical nonchalance. 
 Not so while the heat was on. As I write, a most ridicu- 
 lous recollection rises of Charles dragging his Lordship and 
 me and all who were with him to that part of the course 
 where the race was highest, where he would act like a mad- 
 man ; blowing and perspiring, and whipping and swearing all
 
 HIS GRACE MAKES ADVANCES 325 
 
 at a time, and rising up and down as if the horse was throwing 
 him. 
 
 At Kewmarket I had the good — or ill — fortune to meet 
 that incorrigible rake and profligate, my Lord of March and 
 Ruglen. For him the goddess of Chance had smiled, and he 
 was in the most complaisant humour. I was presented to his 
 Grace, the Duke of Grafton, whose name I had no reason to 
 love, and invited to Wakefield Lodge. We went instead, Mr. 
 Fox and I, to Ampthill, Lord Ossory's seat, with a merry 
 troop. And then we had more racing ; and whist and quinze 
 and pharaoh and hazard, until I was obliged to write another 
 draft upon Mr. Dix to settle the vails : and picquet in the 
 travelling-chaise all the way to London. Dining at Brooks's, 
 we encountered Fitzpatrick and Comyn and my Lord Car- 
 lisle. 
 
 " Now how much has Charles borrowed of you, Mr. Carvel ? " 
 demanded Fitzpatrick, as we took our seats. 
 
 " I'll lay ten guineas that Charles has him mortgaged this 
 day month, though he owns as much land as William Penn, 
 and is as rich as Fordyce." 
 
 Comyn demanded where the devil I had been, though he 
 knew perfectly. He was uncommonly silent during dinner, 
 and then asked me if I had heard the news. I told him I had 
 heard none. He took me by the sleeve, to the quiet amuse- 
 ment of the company, and led me aside. 
 
 " Curse you, Eichard," says he ; " you have put me in such 
 a temper that I vow I'll fling you over. You_profess to love 
 her, and yet you go betting to Newmarket and carousing to 
 Ampthill when she is ill." 
 
 "111!" I said, catching my breath. 
 
 " Ay ! That hurts, does it ? Yes, ill, I say. She was 
 missed at Lady Pembroke's that Friday you had the scene 
 with her, and at Lady Ailesbury's on Saturday. On Monday 
 morning, when I come to you for tidings, you are off watching 
 Charles make an ass of himself at Newmarket." 
 
 " And how is she now, Comyn ? " I asked, catching him by 
 the arm. 
 
 " You may go yourself and see, and be cursed, Richard Car-
 
 326 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 Ve\. She IS in trouble, and you are pleasure-seeking in the 
 country. Damme ! you deserve richly to lose her." 
 
 Calling for my gi-eatcoat, and paying no heed to the jeers 
 of the company for leaving before the toasts and the play, I 
 fairly ran to Arlington Street. I was in a passion of remorse. 
 Comyn had been but just. Granting, indeed, that she had 
 refused to marry me, was that any reason why I should desert 
 my life-long friend and playmate ? A hundred little tokens of 
 her affection for me rose to mind, and last of all that rescue 
 from Castle Yard in the face of all Mayfair. And in that hour 
 of darkness the conviction that something was wrong came 
 back upon me with redoubled force. Her lack of colour, her 
 feverish actions, and the growing slightness of her figure, all 
 gave me a pang, as I connected them with that scene on the 
 balcony over the Park. 
 
 The house was darkened, and a coach was in front of it. 
 
 " Yessir," said the footman, "Miss Manners has been quite 
 ill. She is now some better, and Dr. James is with her. Mrs. 
 Manners begs company will excuse her." 
 
 And Mr. Marmaduke ? The man said, with as near a grin 
 as he ever got, that the marster was gone to Mrs. Cornelys's 
 assembly. As I turned away, sick at heart, the physician, in 
 his tie-wig and scarlet cloak, came out, and I stopped him. 
 He was a testy man, and struck the stone an impatient blow 
 with his staff. 
 
 " 'Od's life, sir. I am besieged day and night by you young 
 gentlemen. I begin to think of sending a daily card to Al- 
 mack's." 
 
 " Sir, I am an old friend of Miss Manners," I replied, " hav- 
 ing grown up with her in Maryland — " 
 
 " Are you Mr. Carvel ? " he demanded abruptly, taking his 
 hat from his arm. 
 
 " Yes," I answered, surprised. In the gleam of the portico 
 lanthorn he scrutinized me for several seconds. 
 
 " There are some troubles of the mind which are beyond the 
 power of physic to remedy, Mr. Carvel," said he. " She has 
 mentioned your name, sir, and you are to judge of my mean- 
 ing. Your most obedient, sir. Good night, sir."
 
 HIS GRACE MAKES ADVANCES 327 
 
 And he got into his coach, leaving me standing where I was, 
 bewildered. 
 
 That same fear of being alone, which has driven many a 
 man to his cups, sent me back to Brooks's for company. I 
 found Fox and Comyn seated at a table in the corner of the 
 drawing-room, for once not plajdng, but talking earnestly. 
 Their expressions when they saw me betrayed what my own 
 face must have been. 
 
 "AVhat is it?" cried Comyn, half rising; "is she — is 
 she — " 
 
 " No, she is better," I said. 
 
 He looked relieved. 
 
 " You must have frightened him badly, Jack," said Eox. 
 
 I flung myself into a chair, and Fox proposed whist, some- 
 thing unusual for him. Comyn called for cards, and was about 
 to go in search of a fourth, when we all three caught sight 
 of the Duke of Chartersea in the door, surveying the room 
 with a cold leisure. His eye paused when in line with us, and 
 we were seized with astonishment to behold him making in 
 our direction. 
 
 " Squints ! " exclaimed Mr. Fox, " now what the devil can 
 the hound want ? " 
 
 " To pull your nose for sending him to market," my Lord 
 suggested. 
 
 Fox laughed coolly. 
 
 " Lay you twenty he doesn't. Jack," he said. 
 
 His Grace plainly had some business with us, and I hoped 
 he was coming to force the fighting. The pieces had ceased 
 to rattle on the round mahogany table, and every head in the 
 room seemed turned our way, for the Covent Garden story 
 was well known. Chartersea laid his hand on the back of 
 our fourth chair, greeted us with some ceremony, and said 
 something which, under the circumstances, was almost unheard 
 of in that day : — 
 
 " If you stand in need of one, gentlemen, I should deem it 
 an honour." 
 
 The situation had in it enough spice for all of us. We 
 welcomed him with alacrity. The cards were cut, and it fell
 
 328 EICHAKU CAEVEL 
 
 to his Grace to deal, which he did very prettily, despite his 
 heavy hands. He drew Charles Fox, and they won steadily. 
 The conversation between deals was anywhere ; on the virtue 
 of Morello cherries for the gout, to which his Grace was 
 already subject; on Mr. Fox's Ariel, and why he had not 
 carried Sandwich's cup at Newmarket ; on the advisability of 
 putting three-year-olds on the track; in short, on a dozen 
 small topics of the kind. At length, when Comyn and I had 
 lost some fifty pounds between us, Chartersea threw down the 
 cards. 
 
 " My coach waits to-night, gentlemen," said he, with some 
 sort of an accent that did not escape us. " It would give me 
 the greatest pleasure and you will sup with me in Hanover 
 Square."
 
 CHAPTER XXXV 
 
 IN WHICH MY LORD BALTIMORE APPEARS 
 
 His Grace's offer was accepted with a readiness he could 
 scarce have expected, and we all left the room in the midst 
 of a buzz of comment. We knew well that the matter was 
 not so haphazard as it appeared, and on the way to Hanover 
 Square Comyn more than once stepped on my toe, and 1 
 answered the pressure. Our coats and canes were taken by 
 the duke's lackeys when we arrived. We were shown over 
 the house. Until now — so his Grace informed us — it had not 
 been changed since the time of the fourth dvike, who, as we 
 doubtless knew, had been an ardent supporter of the Han- 
 overian succession. The rooms were high-panelled and fur- 
 nished in the German style, as was the fashion when the 
 Square was built. But some were stripped and littered with 
 scaffolding and plaster, new and costly marble mantels were 
 replacing the wood, and an Italian of some renown was deco- 
 rating the ceilings. His Grace appeared to be at some pains 
 that the significance of these improvements should not be lost 
 upon us ; was constantly appealing to Mr. Fox's taste on this 
 or that feature. But those fishy eyes of his were so alert that 
 we had not even opportunity to wink. It was wholly patent, 
 in brief, that the Duke of Chartersea meant to be married, and 
 had brought Charles and Comyn hither with a purpose. For 
 me he would have put himself out not an inch had he not 
 understood that my support came from those quarters. 
 
 He tempered off this exhibition by showing us a collection of 
 pottery famous in England, that had belonged to the fifth duke, 
 his father. Every piece of it, by the way, afterwards brought 
 an enormous sum at auction. Supper was served in a warm 
 
 329
 
 330 EICHARD CAEVEL 
 
 little room of oak. The game was from Derresley Manor, the 
 duke's Nottinghamshire seat, and the wine, so he told us, was 
 some of fifty bottles of rare Chinon he had inherited. Melted 
 rubies it was indeed, of the sort which had quickened the blood 
 of many a royal gathering at Blois and Amboise and Chenon- 
 ceaux, — the distilled peasant song of the Loire valley. In it 
 many a careworn crown had tasted the purer happiness of the 
 lowly. Our restraint gave way under its influence. His Grace 
 lost for the moment his deformities, and Mr. Fox made us laugh 
 until our sides ached again. His Lordship told many a capital 
 yarn, and my own wit was afterwards said to be astonishing, 
 though I can recall none of it to support the affirmation. 
 
 Not a word or even a hint of Dorothy had been uttered, nor 
 did Chartersea so much as refer to his Covent Garden expe- 
 rience. At length, when some half dozen of the wine was 
 gone, and the big oak clock had struck two, the talk lapsed. 
 It was Charles Fox, of course, who threw the spark into the 
 powder box. 
 
 " We were speaking of hunting, Chartersea," he said. " Did 
 you ever know George Wrottlesey, of the Suffolk branch ? " 
 
 "No," said his Grace, very innocent. 
 
 " No ! 'Od's whips and spurs, I'll be sworn I never saAV a 
 man to beat him for reckless riding. He would take five bars 
 any time, egad, and sit any colt that was ever foaled. The 
 Wrottleseys were poor as weavers then, with the Jews coming 
 down in the wagon from London and hanging round the hall 
 gates. But the old squire had plenty of good hunters in the 
 stables, and haunches on the board, and a cellar that was like 
 the widow's cruse of oil, or barrel of meal — or whatever she 
 had. All the old man had to do to lose a guinea was to lay it 
 on a card. He never nicked in his life, so they say. Well, 
 young George got after a rich tea-merchant's daughter who had 
 come into the country near by. 'Slife ! she was a saucy jade, 
 and devilish pretty. Such a face ! so Stavordale vowed, and 
 such a neck ! and such eyes ! so innocent, so ravishingly 
 innocent. But she knew cursed well George was after the 
 bank deposit, and kept him galloping. And when he got a 
 view, halloa, egad ! she was stole away again, and no scent.
 
 MY LORD BALTIMORE APPEARS 331 
 
 " One morning George was out after the hounds with Stavor- 
 dale, who told me the story, and a lot of fellows who had come 
 over from Newmarket. He was upon Afterraath, the horse that 
 Foley bought for five hundred pounds and was a colt then. Of 
 course he left the field out of sight behind. He made for a gap 
 in the park wall (faith ! there was no lack of 'em), but the colt 
 refused, and over went George and plumped into a cart of winter 
 apples some farmer's sot was taking to Bury Saint Edmunds to 
 market. The fall knocked the sense out of George, for he 
 hasn't much, and Stavordale thinks he must have struck a 
 stake as he went in. Anyway, the apples rolled over on top 
 of him, and the drunkard on the seat never woke up, i' faith. 
 And so they came to town. 
 
 "It so chanced, egad, that the devil sent Miss Tea Mer- 
 chant to Bury to buy apples. She amused herself at playing 
 country gentlewoman while papa worked all week in the 
 city. She saw the cart in the market, and ate three (for she 
 had the health of a barmaid), and bid in the load, and George 
 with it. 'Pon my soul ! she did. They found his boots first. 
 And the lady said, before all the grinning Johns and Willums, 
 that since she had bought him she supposed she would have 
 to keep him. And, by Gad's life ! she has got him yet, which 
 is a deal stranger." 
 
 Even the duke laughed. For, as Fox told it, the story was 
 irresistible. But it came as near to being a wanton insult as 
 a reference to his Grace's own episode might. The red came 
 slowly back into his eye. Fox stared vacantly, as was his 
 habit Avhen he had done or said something especially daring. 
 And Comyn and I waited, straining and expectant, like boys 
 who have prodded a wild beast and stand ready for the spring. 
 There was a metallic ring in the duke's voice as he spoke. 
 
 " I have heard, Mr. Carvel, that you can ride any mount 
 offered you." 
 
 " 'Od's, and so he can ! " cried Jack. " I'll take oath on 
 that." 
 
 " I will lay you an hundred guineas, my Lord," says his 
 Grace, very off-hand, " that Mr. Carvel does not sit Baltimore's 
 Pollux above twenty minutes,"
 
 332 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 " Done ! " says Jack, before I could draw breath. 
 
 " I'll take your Grace for another hundred," added Mr. Fox, 
 calmly. 
 
 "It seems to me, your Grace," I cried, angry all at once, 
 " it seems to me that I am the one to whom you should ad- 
 dress your wagers. I am not a jockey, to be put up at your 
 whim, and to give you the chance to lose money." 
 
 Chartersea swung around my way. 
 
 " Your pardon, Mr. Carvel," said he, very coolly, very po- 
 litely ; "yours is the choice of the wager. And you reject it, 
 the others must be called off." 
 
 •"Slife ! I double it!" I said hotly, "provided the horse 
 is alive, and will stand up." 
 
 " Devilish well put, Richard ! " Mr. Fox exclaimed, casting 
 off his restraint. 
 
 " I give you my word the horse is alive, sir," he answered, 
 with a mock bow ; " 'twas only yesterday that he killed his 
 groom, at Hampstead." 
 
 A few moments of silence followed this revelation. It was 
 Charles Fox who spoke first. 
 
 " I make no doubt that your Grace, as a man of honour," — 
 he emphasized the word forcibly, — " will not refuse to ride 
 the horse for another twenty minutes, provided Mr. Carvel is 
 successful. And I will lay your Grace another hundred that 
 you are thrown, or run away with." 
 
 Truly, to cope with a wit like Mr. Fox's, the duke had need 
 for a longer head. He grew livid as he perceived how neatly 
 he had been snared in his own trap. 
 
 " Done ! " he cried loudly ; " done, gentlemen. It only re- 
 mains to hit upon time and place for the contest. I go to 
 York to-morrow, to be back this day fortnight. And if you 
 will do me the favour of arranging with Baltimore for the 
 horse, I shall be obliged. I believe he intends selling it to 
 Astley, the showman." 
 
 " And are we to keep it ? " asks Mr. Fox. 
 
 " I am dealing with men of honour," says the duke, with a 
 bow : " I need have no better assurance that the horse will not 
 be ridden in the interval." 
 
 I
 
 MY LORD BALTIMORE APPEARS 333 
 
 "'Od so!" said Comyn, when we were out; "very hand- 
 some of him. But I would not say as much for his Grace." 
 
 And Mr. Fox declared that the duke was no coward, but all 
 other epithets known might be called him. " A very diverting 
 evening, Richard," said he ; " let's to your apartments and have 
 a bowl, and talk it over." 
 
 And thither we went. 
 
 I did not sleep much that night, but 'twas of Dolly I thought 
 rather than of Chartersea. I was abroad early, and over to 
 inquire in Arlington Street, where I found she had passed a 
 good night. And I sent Banks a-hunting for some violets to 
 send her, for I knew she loved that flower. 
 
 Between ten and eleven Mr. Eox and Comyn and I set out 
 for Baltimore House. When you go to London, my dears, you 
 will find a vast difference in the neighbourhood of Bloomsbury 
 from what it was that May morning in 1770. Great Russell 
 Street was all a sweet fragrance of gardens, mingling with the 
 smell of the fields from the open country to the north. We 
 drove past red Montagu House with its stone facings and dome, 
 like a French hotel, and the cluster of buildings at its great 
 gate. It had been then for over a decade the British Museum. 
 The ground behind it was a great resort for Londoners of that 
 day. Many a sad affair was fought there, but on that morn- 
 ing we saw a merry party on their way to play prisoner's base. 
 Then we came to the gardens in front of Bedford House, which 
 are now Bloomsbury Square. For my part I preferred this 
 latter mansion to the French creation by its side, and admired 
 its long and graceful lines. Its windows commanded a sweep 
 from Holburn on the south to Highgate on the north. To the 
 east of it, along Southampton Row, a few great houses had gone 
 up or were building ; and at the far end of that was Baltimore 
 House, overlooking her Grace of Bedford's gardens. Beyond, 
 Lamb's Conduit Fields stretched away to the countryside. 
 
 I own I had a lively curiosity to see that lordly ruler, the 
 proprietor of our province, whose birthday we celebrated after 
 his Majesty's. Had I not been in a great measure prepared, 
 I should have had a revulsion indeed.
 
 334 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 Wlien lie heard that Mr. Fox and my Lord Corayn were 
 below stairs he gave orders to show them up to his bedroom^ 
 where he received us in a night-gown embroidered with oranges. 
 My Lord Baltimore, alas ! was not much to see. He did not 
 make the figure a ruler should as he sat in his easy chair, and 
 whined and cursed his Swiss. He was scarce a year over forty, 
 and he had all but run his race. Dissipation and corrosion had 
 set their seal upon him, had stamped his yellow face with crows'- 
 teet and blotted it with pimples. But then the glimpse of a 
 fine gentleman just out of bed of a morning, before he is made 
 for the day, is unfair. 
 
 " Morning, Charles ! Howdy, Jack ! " said his Lordship, 
 apathetically. " Glad to know you, Mr. Carvel. Heard of your 
 family. 'Slife! Wish there were more like 'em in the 
 province." 
 
 This sentiment not sitting very well upon his Lordship, I 
 bowed, and said nothing. 
 
 " By the bye," he continued, pouring out his chocolate into 
 the dish, " I sent a damned rake of a parson out there some 
 years gone. Handsome devil, too. Never seen his match with 
 the Avomen, egad. 'Od's fish — " he leered. And then added 
 with an oath and a nod and a vile remark : " Married three 
 times, to my knowledge. Carried off dozen or so more. Some 
 of 'em for me. Many a good night I've had with him. Drank 
 between us one evening at Essex's gallon and half Champagne 
 and Burgundy apiece. He got to know too much, y' know," 
 he concluded, with a wicked wink. " Had to buy him up — 
 pack him off." 
 
 " His name, Fred ? " said Comyn, with a smile at me. 
 
 "'Sdeath! That's it. Trouble to remember. Damned if I 
 can think." And he repeated this remark over and over. 
 
 " Allen ? " said Comyn. 
 
 "Yes," said Baltimore; "Allen. And egad I think he'll 
 find hell a hotter place than me. You know him, Mr. Carvel ? " 
 
 " Yes," I replied. I said no more. I make no reservations 
 when I avow I was never so disgusted in my life. But as I 
 looked upon him, haggard and worn, with retribution so nea? 
 3.t hand, I had no words to protest or condemn.
 
 MY LORD BALTIMORE APPEARS 335 
 
 Baltimore gave a hollow mirthless laugh, stopped short, and 
 iooked at Charles Fox. 
 
 '' Curse you, Charles ! I suppose you are after that little 
 matter I owe you for quinze." 
 
 " Damn the little matter ! " said Fox. " Come, get you per- 
 fumed and dressed, and order up some of your Tokay while we 
 wait. I have to go to St. Stephens. Mr. Carvel has come to 
 buy your horse Pollux. He has bet Chartersea two hundred 
 guineas he rides him for twenty minutes." 
 
 " The devil he has ! " cried his Lordship, jaded no longer. 
 " Why, you must know, Mr. Carvel, there was no groom in my 
 stables who would sit him until Foley made me a present of his 
 man, Miller, who started to ride him to Hyde Park. As he 
 came out of Great Russell Street, by gad's life ! the horse broke 
 and ran out the Tottenham Court Road all the way to Ham{> 
 stead. And the fiend picked out a big stone water trough, 
 and tossed Miller against it. Then they gathered up the frag- 
 ments. Damme if I like to see suicide, Mr. Carvel. If Char- 
 tersea wants to kill you, let him try it in the fields behind 
 Montagu House here." 
 
 I told his Lordship that I had made the wager, and could not 
 in honour withdraw, though the horse had killed a dozen 
 grooms. But already he seemed to have lost interest. He 
 gave a languid pull at the velvet tassel on his bell-rope, 
 ordered the wine; and, being informed that his anteroom 
 below was full of people, had them all dismissed with the 
 message that he was engaged upon important affairs. He told 
 Mr. Fox he had heard of the Jerusalem Chamber, and vowed 
 he would have a like institution. He told me he wished the 
 colony of Maryland in hell ; that he was worn out with the 
 quarrels of Governor Eden and his Assembly, and offered to 
 lay a guinea that the Governor's agent would get to him that 
 day, — will-he, nill-he. 1 did not think it worth while to 
 argue with such a man. 
 
 My Lord took three-quarters of an hour to dress, and swore 
 he had not accomplished the feat so quickly in a year. He 
 washed his hands and face in a silver basin, and the scent of 
 the soap filled the room. He rated his Swiss for putting
 
 336 KICHAKD CARVEL 
 
 cinnamon upon his ruffles in place of attar of roses, and 
 attempted to regale us the while with some of his choicest 
 adventures. In more than one of these, by the way, his Grace 
 of Chartersea figured. It was Fox who brought him up. 
 
 " See here, Baltimore," he said, " I'm not squeamish. But 
 I'm cursed if I like to hear a man who may die any time be- 
 tween bottles talk so." 
 
 His Lordship took the rebuke with an oath, and presently 
 hobbled down the stairs of the great and silent house to the 
 stable court, where two grooms were in waiting with the horse. 
 He was an animal of amazing power, about sixteen hands, and 
 dapple gray iu colour. And it required no special knowledge 
 'o see that he had a devil inside him. It gleamed wickedly 
 out of his eye. 
 
 " 'Od's life, Richard ! " cried Charles, " he has a Jew nose ; . 
 by all the seven tribes I bid you 'ware of him." 
 
 " You have but to ride him with a gold bit, Richard," said 
 Comyn, " and he is a kitten, I'll warrant." 
 
 At that moment Pollux began to rear and kick, so that it 
 took both the 'ostlers to hold him. 
 
 " Show him a sovereign," suggested Fox. " How do you 
 feel, Richard ? " 
 
 " I never feared a horse yet," I said with perfect truth, " nor 
 do I fear this one, though I know he may kill me." 
 
 " I'll lay you twenty pounds you have at least one bone 
 broken, and ten that you are killed," Baltimore puts in queru- 
 lously, from the doorway. 
 
 " I'll do this, my Lord," I answered. " If I ride him, he is 
 mine. If he throws me, I give you twenty pounds for him." 
 
 The gentlemen laughed, and Baltimore vowed he could sell 
 the horse to Astley for fifty ; that Pollux was the son of 
 Renown, of the Duke of Kingston's stud, and much more. But 
 Charles rallied him out by a reference to the debt at quinze, 
 and an appeal to his honour as a sportsman. And swore he 
 was discouraging one of the prettiest encounters that would 
 take place in England for many a long day. And so the horse 
 was sent to the stables of the White Horse Cellar, in Picca- 
 dilly, and left there at my order.
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI 
 
 A GLIMPSE OF MR. GARRICK 
 
 Day after day I went to Arlington Street, each time to be 
 turned away with the same answer: that Miss Manners was 
 a shade better, but still confined to her bed. You will scarce 
 believe me, my dears, when I say that Mr. Marmaduke had 
 gone at this crisis with his Grace to the York races. On the 
 fourth morning, I think, I saw Mrs. Manners. She was much 
 worn with the vigil she had kept, and received me with an 
 apathy to frighten me. Her way with me had hitherto always 
 been one of kindness and warmth. In answer to the dozen 
 questions I showered upon her, she replied that Dorothy's 
 malady was in no wise dangerous, so Dr. James had said, and 
 undoubtedly arose out of the excitement of a London season. 
 As I knew, Dorothy was of the kind that must run and run 
 until she dropped. She had no notion of the measure of her 
 own strength. Mrs. Manners hoped that, in a fortnight, she 
 would be recovered sufficiently to be removed to one of the 
 baths. 
 
 " She wishes me to thank you for the flowers, Richard. 
 She has them constantly by her. And bids me tell you how 
 sorry she is that she is compelled to miss so much of your 
 visit to England, Are you enjoying London, Richard? I 
 hear that you are well liked by the best of company." 
 
 I left, prodigiously cast down, and went directly to Mr. 
 Wedgwood's, to choose the prettiest set of tea-cups and dishes 
 I could find there. I pitied Mrs. Manners from my heart, and 
 made every allowance for her talk with me, knowing the sorrow 
 of her life. Here was yet another link in the chain of the 
 Chartersea evidence. And I made no doubt that Mr. Manners'-^, 
 r 337
 
 338 EICHARD CAEVEL 
 
 brutal desertion at such a time must be hard to bear. I con 
 tinned my visits of inquiry, nearly always meeting some 
 person of consequence, or the footman of such, come on the 
 same errand as myself. And once I encountered the young 
 man she had championed against his Grace at Lady Tanker- 
 ville's. 
 
 Rather than face the array of anxieties that beset me, I 
 plunged recklessly into the gayeties — nay, the excesses — of 
 Mr. Charles Fox and his associates. I paid, in truth, a very 
 high price for my friendship with Mr. Fox. But, since it did 
 not quite ruin me, I look back upon it as cheaply bought. To 
 know the man well, to be the subject of his regard, was to feel 
 an infatuation in common with the little band of worshippers 
 which had come with him from Eton. They remained faithful 
 to him all his days, nor adversity nor change of opinion could 
 shake their attachment. They knew his faults, deplored them, 
 and paid for them. And this was not beyond my compre- 
 hension, tho' many have wondered at it. Did he ask me for 
 five hundred pounds, — which he did, — I gave it freely, and 
 would gladly have given more, tho' I saw it all wasted in a night 
 when the dice rolled against him. For those honoured few of 
 whom I speak likewise knew his virtues, which were quite as 
 large as the faults, albeit so mingled with them that all might 
 not distinguish. 
 
 I attended some of the routs and parties, to all of which, as 
 a young colonial gentleman of wealth and family, I was made 
 welcome. I went to a ball at Lord Stanley's, a mixture of 
 French horns and clarionets and coloured glass lanthorns and 
 candles in gilt vases, and young ladies pouring tea in white, 
 and musicians in red, and draperies and flowers ad libitum. 
 Thei*e I met Mr. Walpole, looking on very critically. He was 
 the essence of friendliness, asked after my equerry, and said 1 
 had done well to ship him to America. At the opera, with 
 Lord Ossory and Mr. Fitzpatrick, I talked through the round of 
 the boxes, from Lady Pembroke's on the right to Lady Hervey's 
 on the left, where Dolly's illness and Lady Harrington's 
 snuffing gabble were the topics rather than Giardini's fiddling. 
 Mr. Storer took me to Foote's dressing-room at the Hay market
 
 A GLIMPSE OF MR. GARRICK 339 
 
 where we found the Duke of Cumberland lounging. I was 
 presented, and thought his Royal Highness had far less dig- 
 nity than the monkey-comedian we had come to see. 
 
 I must not forget the visit I made to Drury Lane Playhouse 
 with my Lords Carlisle and Grantham and Comyn. The great 
 actor received me graciously in such a company, you may be 
 sure. He appeared much smaller off the boards than on, and 
 his actions and speech were quick and nervous. Gast, his 
 hairdresser, was making him up for the character of Rich- 
 ard III. 
 
 *"Ods!" said Mr. Garrick, "your Lordships come five 
 minutes too late. Goldsmith is but just gone hence, fresh 
 from his tailor, Filby, of Water Lane. The most gorgeous 
 creature in London, gentlemen, I'll be sworn. He is even 
 now, so he would have me know, gone by invitation to my 
 Lord Denbigh's box, to ogle the ladies." 
 
 " And have you seen your latest lampoon, Mr. Garrick ? " 
 usks Comyn, winking at me. 
 
 Up leaps Mr. Garrick, so suddenly as to knock the paint-pot 
 from Cast's hand. 
 
 " Nay, your Lordship jests, surely ! " he cried, his voice 
 shaking. 
 
 " Jests ! " says my Lord, very serious ; " do I jest, Carlisle ? " 
 And turning to Mr. Cross, the prompter, who stood by, " Fetch 
 me the St. James's Evening Post," says he. 
 
 " 'Ods my life ! " continues poor Garrick, almost in tears ; 
 " I have loaned Foote upwards of two thousand pounds. And 
 last year, as your Lordship remembers, took charge of his 
 theatre when his leg was cut off. 'Pon my soul, I cannot 
 account for his ingratitude." 
 
 " 'Tis not Foote," says Carlisle, biting his lip ; " I know 
 Foote's mark." 
 
 " Then Johnson," says the actor, " because I would not let 
 him have my fine books in his dirty den to be kicked about 
 the floor, but put my library at his disposal — " 
 
 *' Nay, nor Johnson. Nor yet Macklin nor Murphy." 
 
 " Surely not — " cries Mr. Garrick, turning white under the 
 rouge. The name remained unpronounced.
 
 340 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 "Ay, ay, Junius, in the Evening Post. He has fastened 
 upon you at last," answers Comyn, taking the paper. 
 
 " 'Sdeath ! Garrick," Carlisle puts in, very solemn, " what 
 have you done to offend the Terrible Unknown ? Talebearing 
 to his Majesty, I'll warrant ! I gave you credit for more dis- 
 cretion." 
 
 At these words Mr. Garrick seized the chair for support, 
 and swung heavily into it. Whereat the young lords burst 
 into such a tempest of laughter that I could not refrain from 
 joining them. As for Mr. Garrick, he was so pleased to have 
 escaped that he laughed too, though with a palpable ner- 
 vousness.^ 
 
 " By the bye, Garrick," Carlisle remarked slyly, when he 
 had recovered, " Mrs. Crewe was vastly taken with the last 
 vers you left on her dressing-table." 
 
 " Was she, now, my Lord ? " said the great actor, delighted, 
 but scarce over his fright. " You must know that I have writ 
 one to my Lady Carlisle, on the occasion of her dropping her 
 fan in Piccadilly." Whereupon he proceeded to recite it, and 
 my Lord Carlisle, being something of a poet himself, pro- 
 nounced it excellent. 
 
 Mr. Garrick asked me many questions concerning American 
 life and manners, having a play in his repertory the scene of 
 which was laid in New York. In the midst of this we were 
 interrupted by a dirty fellow who ran in, crying excitedly : '- — 
 
 "■ Sir, the Archbishop of York is getting drunk at the Bear, 
 and swears he'll be d — d if he'll act to-night." 
 
 " The archbishop may go to the devil ! " snapped Mr. Gar- 
 rick. " I do not know a greater rascal, except yourself." 
 
 I was little short of thunderstruck. But presently Mr, 
 Garrick added complainingly : — 
 
 " I paid a guinea for the archbishop, but the fellow got me 
 three murderers to-day and the best alderman I ever clapped 
 eyes upon. So we are square." 
 
 After the play we supped with him at his new house in 
 Adelphi Terrace, next Topham Beauclerk's. 'Twas hand- 
 
 1 Note by the editor. It was not long after this that Mr. Garrick's punish- 
 nent came, and for the selfsame offence.
 
 A GLIMPSE OF MR. GARRICK 341 
 
 somely built in the Italian style, and newly furnished through- 
 out, for Mr. Garrick travelled now with a coach and six and 
 four men servants, forsooth. And amongst other things he 
 took pride in showing us that night was a handsome snuff- 
 box which the King of Denmark had given him the year 
 before, his Majesty's portrait set in jewels thereon. 
 
 Presently the news of the trial of Lord Baltimore's horse 
 cegan to be noised about, and Avas followed by a deluge of 
 wagers at Brooks's and White's and elsewhere. Comyn and 
 Fox, my chief supporters, laid large sums upon me, despite 
 all my persuasion. But the most unpleasant part of the 
 publicity was the rumour that the match was connected with 
 the struggle for Miss Manners's hand. I was pressed w^ith 
 invitations to go into the country to ride this or that horse. 
 His Grace the Duke of Grafton had a mount he would have 
 zae try at Wakefield Lodge, and was far from pleasant over 
 2ay refusal of his invitation. I was besieged by young noble- 
 iien like Lord Derby and Lord Foley, until I was heartily 
 sick of notoriety, and cursed the indiscretion of the person 
 who let out the news, and my own likewise. My Lord 
 March, who did me the honour to lay one hundred pounds 
 apon my skill, insisted that I should make one of a party to 
 ihe famous amphitheatre near Lambeth. Mr. Astley, the 
 showman, being informed of his Lordship's intention, met us 
 on Westminster Bridge dressed in his uniform as sergeant- 
 major of the Royal Light Dragoons and mounted on a white 
 charger. He escorted us to one of the large boxes under the 
 pent-house reserved for the gentry. And when the show was 
 over and the place cleared, begged that I would ride his Ind- 
 ian Chief. I refused ; but March pressed me, and Comyn 
 declared he had staked his reputation upon my horsemanship. 
 Astley was a large man, about my build, and I donned a paii 
 of his leather breeches and boots, and put Indian Chief to his 
 paces around the ring. I found him no more restive, nor as 
 much so, as Firefly. The gentlemen were good enough to clap 
 me roundly, and Astley vowed (no doubt because of the noble 
 patrons present) that he had never seen a better seat. 
 
 We all repaired afterwards for supper to Don Saltero's
 
 342 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 Coffee House and Museum in Chelsea. And I remembered 
 having heard my grandfather speak of the place, and tell 
 how he had seen Sir Richard Steele there, listening to the 
 Don scraping away at the " Merry Christ Church Bells " on 
 his fiddle. The Don was since dead, but King James's coro- 
 nation sword and King Henry VIII.'s coat of mail still hung 
 on the walls. 
 
 The remembrance of that fortnight has ever been an appall- 
 ing one. Mr. Carvel had never attempted to teach me the 
 value of money. My grandfather, indeed, held but four things 
 essential to the conduct of life ; namely, to fear God, love the 
 King, pay your debts, and pursue your enemies. There was no 
 one in London to advise me, Comyn being but a wild lad like 
 myself. But my Lord Carlisle gave me a friendly warning : — 
 
 " Have a care, Carvel," said he, kindly, " or you will run 
 your grandfather through, and all your relations beside. I 
 little realized the danger of it when I first came up." (He was 
 not above two and twenty then.) " And now I have a wife. 
 am more crippled than I care to be, thanks to this devilish 
 high play. Will you dine with Lady Carlisle in St. James's 
 Place next Friday ? " 
 
 My heart went out to this young nobleman. Handsome he 
 was, as a picture. And he knew better than most of your fine 
 gentlemen how to put a check on his inclinations. As a friend 
 he had few equals, his purse being ever at the command of 
 those he loved. And his privations on Fox's account were 
 already greater than many knew. 
 
 I had a call, too, from Mr. Dix. I found him in my parlour 
 one morning, cringing and smiling, and, as usual, half an hour 
 away from his point. 
 
 " I warrant you, Mr. Carvel," says he, " there are few young 
 gentlemen not born among the elect that make the great 
 friends you are blessed with." 
 
 " I have been fortunate, Mr. Dix," I replied fdryly. 
 
 " Fortunate ! " he cried ; " good Lord, sir ! I hear of you 
 everywhere with Mr. Fox, and you have been to Astley's with 
 my Lord March. And I have a draft from you at Ampthill." 
 
 *' Vastly well manoeuvred, Mr. Dix," I said, laughing at the
 
 A GLIMPSE OF MR. GARRICK 343 
 
 guilty change iu his pink complexion. " And hence you are 
 here." 
 
 He fidgeted, and seeing that I paid him no attention, but 
 went on with my chocolate, he drew a paper from his pocket 
 and opened it. 
 
 " You have sj)ent a prodigious sum, sir, for so short a time, ' 
 said he, unsteadily. " 'Tis very well for you, Mr. Carvel, but 
 I have to remember tliat you are heir only. I am advancing 
 you money without advices from his Worship, your grand- 
 father. A most irregular proceeding, sir, and one likely to 
 lead me to trouble. I know not what your allowance may be." 
 
 "Nor I, Mr. Dix," I replied, unreasonably enough. "To 
 speak truth, I have never had one. You have my Lord 
 Comyn's signature to protect you," I went on ill-naturedly, 
 for I had not had enough sleep. "And in case Mr. Carvel 
 protests, which is unlikely and preposterous, you shall have 
 ten percentum on your money until I can pay you. That 
 should be no poor investment." 
 
 He apologized. But he smoothed out the paper on his knee. 
 
 " It is only right to tell you, Mr. Carvel, that you have 
 spent one thousand eight hundred and thirty-seven odd pounds, 
 in home money, which is worth more than your colonial. Your 
 grandfather's balance with me was something less than one 
 thousand five hundred, as I made him a remittance in Decem- 
 ber last. I have advanced the rest. And yesterda}^," he went 
 on, resolutely for him, " yesterday I got an order for five hun- 
 dred more." 
 
 And he handed me the paper. I must own that the figures 
 startled me. I laid it down with a fine show of indifference. 
 
 " And so you wish me to stop drawing ? Very good, Mr. 
 Dix." 
 
 He must have seen some threat implied, though I meant 
 none. He was my very humble servant at once, and declared 
 he had called only to let me know where I stood. Then he 
 bowed himself out, wishing me luck with the horse he had 
 heard of, and I lighted my pipe with his accompt.
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII 
 
 THE SERPENTINE 
 
 Whether it was Mr. Dix that started nie reflecting, or my 
 Lord Carlisle's warning, or a few discreet words from young 
 Lady Carlisle herself, I know not. At all events, I made a 
 resolution to stop high play, and confine myself to whist and 
 quinze and picquet. For I conceived a notion, enlarged by Mr. 
 Fox, that I had more than once fallen into the tender clutches 
 of the hounds. I was so reflecting the morning following Lord 
 Carlisle's dinner, when Banks announced a footman. 
 
 " Mr. Manners's man, sir," he added significantly, and handed 
 me a little note. I seized it, and, to hide my emotion, told him 
 to give the man his beer. 
 
 The writing was Dorothy's, and some time passed after I 
 had torn off the wrapper before I could compose myself to 
 read it. 
 
 " So, Sir, the Moment I am too 111 to watch you you must 
 needs lapse into Wilde & Flity Doings, for thus y'rs are call'd 
 even in London. Never Mind how y'r Extravigancies are come 
 to my Ears Sir. One Matter I have herd that I am Most Con- 
 cerned about, & I pray you, my Dear Richard do not allow y'r 
 Recklessness & Contemt for Danger to betray you into a Stil 
 more Amazing Follie or I shall be very Miserable Indeed. I 
 have Hopes that the Report is at Best a Rumour & you must 
 sit down & write me that it is Sir that my Minde may be set 
 at Rest. I fear for you Vastly & I beg you not Riske y'r Life 
 Foolishly & this for the Sake of one who subscribs herself y'r 
 Old Plamate & Well Wisher Dolly. 
 
 "P.S. I have writ Sir Jon Fielding to put you in the Mar- 
 shallsee or New Gate until Mr. Carvel can be tolde. I am 
 
 344
 
 THE SERPENTINE 345 
 
 Better & hope soon to see you agen & have been informed of 
 y'r Dayly Visitts & y'r Flowers are beside me. D. M." 
 
 In about an hour and a half, Mr. Marmaduke's footman was 
 on his way back to Arlington Street in a condition not to be 
 lightly spoken of. During that period I had committed an 
 hundred silly acts, and incidentally learned the letter by heart. 
 I was much distressed to think that she had heard of the affair 
 of the horse, and more so to surmise that the gossip which clung 
 to it must also have reached her. But I fear I thought most 
 of her anxiety concerning me, which reflection caused my hand 
 to shake from very happiness. " Y'r Flowers are beside me," 
 and "I beg you not Riske y'r Life Foolishly," and "I shall 
 be very Miserable Indeed " ! But then : " Y'r Old Plamate & 
 Well Wisher " ! Nay, she was inscrutable as ever. 
 
 And my reply, — what was that to be ? How I composed 
 it in the state of mind I was in, I have no conception to this 
 day. The chimney was clogged with papers ere fin a spelling 
 to vie with Dolly's) I had set down my devotion, my undying 
 devotion, to her interests. I asked forgiveness for my cruelty 
 on that memorable morning I had last seen her. But even to 
 allude to the bet with Chartersea was beyond my powers ; and 
 as for renouncing it, though for her sake, — that was not to 
 be thought of. The high play I readily promised to avoid in 
 the future, and I signed myself, — well, it matters not after 
 seventy years. 
 
 The same day, Tuesday, I received a letter from his Grace 
 of Chartersea saying that he looked to reach London that 
 night, but very late. He begged that Mr. Fox and Lord 
 Comyn and I would sup with him at the Star and Garter at 
 eleven, to fix matters for the trial on the morrow. Mr. Fox 
 could not go, but Comyn and . I went to the inn, having first 
 attended "The Tempest" at Drury Lane with Lady Di and 
 Mr. Beauclerk. 
 
 We found his Grace awaiting us in a private room, with 
 Captain Lewis, of the 60th Foot, who had figured as a second 
 in the duel with young Atwater. The captain was a rake and 
 a bully and a toadeater, of course, with a loud and profane
 
 346 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 tongue, and he had had a bottle too many in the duke's travel 
 ling-coach. There was likewise a Sir John Brooke, a country- 
 neighbour of his Grace in Nottinghamshire. Sir John ap- 
 parently had no business in such company. He was a hearty, 
 fox-hunting squire who had seen little of London; a three- 
 bottle man who told a foul story and went asleep immediately 
 afterwards. Much to my disappointment, Mr. Manners had 
 gone to Arlington Street direct. I had longed for a chance 
 to speak a little of my mind to him. 
 
 This meeting, which I shall not take the time to recount, 
 was near to ending in an open breach of negotiations. His 
 Grace had lost money at York, and more to Lewis on the way 
 to London. He was in one of his vicious humours. He in- 
 sisted that Hyde Park should be the place of the contest. In 
 vain did Comyn and I plead for some less public spot on 
 account of the disagreeable advertisement the matter had 
 received. His Grace would be damned before he would yield' 
 and Lewis, adding a more forcible contingency, hinted that 
 our side feared a public trial. Comyn presently shut him up. 
 
 "Do you ride the horse after his Grace is thrown," says 
 he, "and I agree to get on after and he does not kill you. 
 'Sdeath ! I am not of the army," adds my Lord, cuttingly ; 
 " I am a seaman, and not supposed to know a stirrup from a 
 snaf&e." 
 
 " 'Od's blood ! " yelled the captain, " you question my horse- 
 manship, my Lord ? Do I understand your Lordship to ques- 
 tion my courage ? " 
 
 " After I am thrown ! " cries his Grace, very ugly, and finger- 
 ing the jewels on his hilt. 
 
 Sir John was awakened by the noise, and turning heavily 
 spilled the whole of a pint of port on the duke's satin waist- 
 coat and breeches. Whereat Chartersea in a rage flung the 
 bottle at his head with a curse, which it seems was a habit 
 with his Grace. But the servants coming in, headed by my 
 old friend the chamberlain, they quieted down. And it was 
 presently agreed that the horse was to be at noon in the 
 King's Old Road, or Rotten Row (cts it was then beginning to 
 hp. <ialled), in Hyde Park.
 
 THE SERPENTINE 347 
 
 I shall carry to the grave the memory of the next day. I 
 was up betimes, and over to the White Horse Cellar to see 
 Pollux groomed, where I found a crowd about the opening into 
 the stable court. " The young American ! " called some one, and 
 to my astonishment and no small annoyance I was greeted with 
 a " Huzzay for you, sir ! " " My groat's on your honour ! " 
 This good-will was owing wholly to the duke's unpopularity 
 with all classes. Inside, sporting gentlemen in hunting-frocks 
 of red and green, and velvet visored caps, were shouldering 
 favoured 'ostlers from the different noblemen's stables; and 
 there was a liberal sprinkling of the characters who attended 
 the cock mains in Drury Lane and at Newmarket. At the 
 moment of iny arrival the head 'ostler was rubbing down the 
 stallion's flank. 
 
 "Here's ten pounds to ride him, Saunders!" called one of 
 the hunting-frocks. 
 
 " Umph ! " sniffed the 'ostler ; " ride 'im is it, yere honour ? 
 Two hunner beant eno', an' a Portugal crown i' tli' boot. 
 Sooner take me chaunces o' Tyburn on 'Ounslow 'Eath. An 
 Miller waurna able to sit 'im, 'tis no for th' likes o' me to try 
 Th' bloody devil took th' shirt off Teddy's back this morn. 1 
 adwises th' young Buckskin t' order 's coffin." Just then he 
 perceived me, and touched his cap, something abashed. " With 
 submission, sir, y'r honour'll take an old man's adwise an' not 
 go near 'im." 
 
 Pollux's appearance, indeed, was not calculated to reassure 
 me. He looked ugly to exaggeration, his ears laid back and 
 his nostrils as big as crowns, and his teeth bared time and 
 time. Now and anon an impatient fling of his hoof would 
 make the grooms start away from him. Since coming to the 
 inn he had been walked a couple of miles each day, with two 
 men with loaded whips to control him. I was being offered a 
 deal of counsel, when big Mr. Astley came in from Lambeth^ 
 and silenced them all. 
 
 "These grooms, Mr. Carvel," he said to me, as we took a 
 Oottle in private inside, " these grooms are the very devil for 
 superstition. And once a horse gets a bad name with them, 
 good-by to him. Miller knew how to ride, of course, but
 
 348 EICHARD CARVEL 
 
 like many another of them, was too damned over-confident. 1 
 warned him more than once for getting young horses into a 
 fret, and I'm willing to lay a ten-pound note that he angered 
 Pollux. 'Od's life ! He is a vicious beast. So was his father, 
 Culloden, before him. But here's luck to you, sir ! " says 
 Mr. Astley, tipping his glass ; " having seen you ride, egad ! I 
 have put all the money I can afford in your favour." 
 
 Before I left him he had given me several valuable hints as 
 to the manner of managing that kind of a horse : not to anger 
 him with the spurs unless it became plain that he meant to 
 kill me ; to try persuasion first and force afterwards ; and sec- 
 ondly, he taught me a little trick of twisting the bit which I 
 have since found very useful. 
 
 Leaving the White Horse, I was followed into Piccadilly by 
 the crowd, until I was forced to take refuge in a hackney chaise. 
 The noise of the affair had got around town, and I was heartily 
 sorry I had not taken the other and better method of trying 
 conclusions with the duke, and slapped his face. I found Jack 
 Corny n in Dover Street, and presently Mr. Fox came for us 
 with his chestnuts in his chaise, Fitzpatrick with him. At 
 Hyde Park Corner there was quite a jam of coaches, chaises, 
 and cabriolets and beribboned phaetons, which made way for 
 us, but kept us busy bowing as we passed among them. It 
 seemed as if everybody of consequence that I had met in Lon- 
 don was gathered there. One face I missed, and rejoiced that 
 she was absent, for I had a degraded feeling like that of being 
 the favourite in a cudgel-bout. And the thought that her 
 name was connected with all this made my face twitch. I 
 heard the people clapping and saw them waving in the car- 
 riages as we passed, and some stood forward before the rest in 
 a haphazard way, without rhyme or reason. Mr. Walpole with 
 Lady Di Beauclerk, and Mr. Storer and Mr. Price and Colonel 
 St. John, and Lord and Lady Carlisle and Lady Ossory. These 
 I recognized. Inside, the railing along the row was lined with 
 people. And there stood Pollux, bridled, with a blanket thrown 
 over his great back and chest, surrounded still by the hunting- 
 frocks, who had followed him from the White Horse. Mixed 
 in with these, swearing, conjecturing, and betting, were some
 
 THE SERPENTINE 349 
 
 to surprise me, whose names were connected with every track in 
 England: the Duke of Grafton and my Lords Sandwich and 
 March and Bolingbroke, and Sir Cliarles Bunbury, and young 
 Lords Derby and Foley, who, after establishing separate names 
 for folly on the tracks, went into partnership. My Lord Balti- 
 more descended listlessly from his cabriolet to join the group. 
 They all sang out when they caught sight of our party, and 
 greeted me ;vith a zeal to carry me off my feet. And my Lord 
 Sandwich, having done me the honour to lay something very 
 handsome upon me, had his chief jockey on hand to give me 
 some final advice. I believe I was the coolest of any of them. 
 And at that time of all others the fact came up to me with 
 irresistible humour that I, a young colonial Whig, who had 
 grown up to detest these people, should be rubbing noses with 
 them. 
 
 The duke put in an appearance five minutes before the hour, 
 upon a bay gelding, and attended by Lewis and Sir John. 
 Brooke, both mounted. As a most particular evidence of the 
 detestation in which Chartersea was held, he could find noth- 
 ng in common with such notorious rakes as March and Sand- 
 wich. And it fell to me to champion these. After some 
 discussion between Eox and Captain Lewis, March was chosen 
 umpire. His Lordship took his post in the middle of the Row, 
 drew forth an enamelled repeater from his waistcoat, and 
 mouthed out the conditions of the match, — the terms, as he 
 said, being private. 
 
 " Are you ready, Mr. Carvel ? " he asked. 
 
 "I am, my Lord," T answered. The bells were pealing 
 noon. 
 
 "Then mount, sir,' said ho 
 
 The voices of the people dropped to a hum that brought to 
 mind the long-forgotten sound of the bees swarming in the 
 garden by the Chesapeake. My breath began to come quickly 
 Through the sunny haze I saw the cows and deer grazing by 
 the Serpentine, and out of the back of my eye handkerchiefs 
 floated from the carriages banked at the gate. Tliey took the 
 blanket off the stallion. Stall-fed, and excited by the crowd, 
 he looked brutal indeed. The faithful Banks, in a new suit
 
 850 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 of the Carvel livery, held the stirrup, and whispered a husky 
 " God keep you, sir ! " Suddenly I was up. The murmur was 
 hushed, and the Park became still as a peaceful farm in Dev« 
 onshire. The grooms let go of the stallion's head. 
 
 He stood trembling like the throes of death. I gripped my 
 knees as Captain Daniel had taught me, years ago, when some 
 invisible force impelled me to look aside. From between the 
 broad and hunching shoulders of Chartersea I met such a 
 venoinous stare as a cuttle-fish might use to freeze his prey. 
 Cuttle-fish I The word kept running over my tongue. I 
 thought of the snaky arms that had already caught Mr. Mar- 
 maduke, and were soon, perhaps, to entangle Dorothy. She 
 had begged me not to ride, and I was risking a life which 
 might save hers. 
 
 The wind rushing in my ears and beating against my face 
 awoke me all at once. The trees ran madly past, and the 
 water at my right was a silver blur. The beast beneath me 
 snorted as he rose and fell. Fainter and fainter dropped the 
 clamour behind me, wluch had risen as I started, and the 
 leaps grew longer and longer. Then my head was cleared 
 like a steamed window-pane in a cold blast. I saw the road 
 curve in front of me, I put all my strength into the curb, and 
 heeling at a fearful angle was swept into the busy Kensington 
 Road. For the first time I knew what it was to fear a horse. 
 The stallion's neck was stretched, his shoes rang on the cob- 
 bles, and my eyes . were fixed on a narrow space between 
 carriages coming together. In a flash I understood why the 
 duke had insisted upon Hyde Park, and that nerved me some. 
 I saw the frightened coachmen pulling their horses this way 
 and that, I heard the cries of the foot-passengers, and then I 
 was through, I know not how. Once more I summoned all my 
 power, recalled the twist Astley had spoken of, and tried it. 
 I bent his neck for an inch of rein. Next I got another inch, 
 ar'd then came a taste — the smallest taste — of mastery like 
 elixir. The motion changed with it, became rougher, and the 
 hoof-beats a fraction less frequent. He steered like a ship 
 with sail reduced. In and out we dodged among the wagons, 
 and I was beginning to think I had him, when suddenly, with-
 
 THE SERPENTINE 351 
 
 out a move of warning, he came down rigid with his feet 
 planted together, and only a miracle and my tight grip re- 
 strained me from shooting over his head. There he stood 
 shaking and snorting, nor any persuasion would move him. 
 I resorted at last to the spurs. 
 
 He was up in the air in an instant, and came down across 
 the road. Again I dug in to the rowels, and clung the tighter, 
 and this time he landed with his head to London. A little 
 knot of people had collected to watch me, and out stepped a 
 strapping fellow in the King's scarlet, from the Guard's 
 House near by. 
 
 " Hold him, sir ! " he said, tipping. " Better dismount, sir. 
 He means murder, y'r honour." 
 
 " Keep clear, curse you ! " I cried, waving him off. " What 
 time is it ? " 
 
 He stepped back, no doubt thinking me mad. Some one 
 spoke up and said it was five minutes past noon. I had the 
 grace to thank him, I believe. To my astonishment I had 
 been gone but four minutes ; they had seemed twenty. Look- 
 ing about me, I found I was in the open space before old 
 Kensington Church, over against the archway there. Once 
 more I dug in the spurs, this time with success. Almost at a 
 jump the beast took me into the angle of posts to the east of 
 the churchyard gate and tore up the footpath of Church Lane, 
 terrified men and women ahead of me taking to the kennel. 
 He ran irregularly, now on the side of the posts, now against 
 the bricks, and then I gave myself up. 
 
 Heaven put a last expedient into my head, that I had once 
 heard Mr. Dulany speak of. I braced myself for a pull that 
 should have broken the stallion's jaw and released his mouth 
 altogether. Incredible as it may seem, he jarred into a trot, 
 and presently came down to a walk, tossing his head like 
 fury, and sweating at every pore. I leaned over and patted 
 him, speaking him fair, and (marvel of marvels ! ) when we 
 had got to the dogs that guard the entrance of Camden House 
 I had coaxed him around and into the street, and cantered 
 back at easy speed to the church. Without pausing to speak 
 to the bunch that stood at the throat of the lane, I started
 
 352 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 toward London, thankfulness and relief swelling within me. 
 I understood the beast, and spoke to him when he danced 
 aside at a wagon with bells or a rattling load of coals, and 
 checked him with a word and a light hand. 
 
 Before I gained the Life Guard's House I met a dozen horse- 
 men, amongst them Banks on a mount of Mr. Fox's. They 
 shouted when they saw me, Colonel St. John calling out that 
 he had won another hundred that I was not dead. Sir John 
 Brooke puffed and swore he did not begrudge his losses to see 
 me safe, despite Captain Lewis's sourness. Storer vowed he 
 would give a dinner in my honour, and, riding up beside 
 me, whispered that he was damned sorry the horse was now 
 broken, and his Grace's chance of being killed taken away. 
 And thus escorted, I came in by the King's New Road to 
 avoid the people running in the Row, and so down to Hyde 
 Park Corner, and in among the chaises and the phaetons, where 
 there was enough cheering and waving of hats and handker- 
 chiefs to please the most exacting of successful generals. I 
 rode up to my Lord March, and finding there was a minute 
 yet to run I went up the Row a distance and back again 
 amidst more huzzaing, Pollux prancing and quivering, and 
 frothing his bit, but never once attempting to break. 
 
 When I had got down, they pressed around me until I could 
 scarce breathe, crying congratulations, Comyn embracing me 
 openly. Mr. Fox vowed he had never seen so fine a sight, and 
 said many impolitic things which the duke must have over- 
 heard. . . . Lady Carlisle sent me a red rose for my button- 
 hole by his Lordship. Mr. Warner, the lively parson with 
 my Lord March, desired to press my hand, declaring that he 
 had won a dozen of port upon me, which he had set his best 
 cassock against. My Lord Sandwich offered me snuff, and in- 
 vited me to Hichinbroke. Indeed, I should never be through 
 were I to continue. But I must not forget my old acquaintance 
 Mr. Walpole, who protested that he must get permission to 
 present me to Princess Amelia: that her Royal Highness 
 would not rest content now, until she had seen me. I did not 
 then know her Highness's sporting propensity. 
 
 Then my Lord March called upon the duke, who stood in
 
 THE SERPENTINE 353 
 
 the midst of an army of his toadeaters. I almost pitied him 
 then, tho' I could not account for the feeling. I think it was 
 because a nobleman with so great a title should be so cordially 
 hated and despised. There were high words along the railing 
 among the duke's supporters, Captain Lewis, in his anger, go- 
 ing above an inference that the stallion had been broken pri- 
 vately. Chartersea came forward with an indifferent swagger, 
 as if to say as much : and, in truth, no one looked for more 
 sport, and some were even turning away. He had scarce put 
 foot to the stirrup, when the surprise came. Two minutes 
 were up before he was got in the saddle, Pollux rearing and 
 plunging and dancing in a circle, the grooms shouting and 
 dodging, and his Grace cursing in a voice to wake the dead : 
 and Mr. Fox laughing, and making small wagers that he would 
 never be mounted. Put at last the duke was up and gripped, 
 his face bloody red, giving vent to his fury with the spurs. 
 
 Then something happened, and so quickly that it cannot be 
 writ fast enough. Pollux bolted like a shot out of a sling, 
 vaulted the railing as easily as you or I would hop over a stick, 
 and galloping across the lawn and down the embankment flung 
 his Grace into the Serpentine. Precisely, as Mr. Fox after 
 wards remarked, as the swine with the evil spirits ran dowL 
 the slope into the sea. 
 
 An indescribable bedlam of confusion followed, lords and 
 gentlemen, tradesmen and grooms, hostlers and apprentices, all 
 tumbling after, many crying with laughter. My Lord Sand- 
 wich's jockey pulled his Grace from the water in a most piti- 
 able state of rage and humiliation. His side curls gone, the 
 powder and pomatum washed from his hair, bedraggled and 
 muddy and sputtering oaths, he made his way to Lord March, 
 swearing by all divine that a trick was put on him, that he 
 would ride the stallion to Land's End. His Lordship, pulling 
 his face straight, gravely informed the duke that the match 
 was over. With this his Grace fell flatly sullen, was pushed 
 into a coach by Sir John and the captain, and drove rapidly 
 off Kensington way, to avoid the people at the corner. 
 
 2a
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIII 
 
 IN WHICH I AM ROUNDLY BROUGHT TO TASK 
 
 I WOULD have gone to Arlington Street direct, but ray friends 
 had no notion of letting me escape. They carried me off to 
 Brooks's Club, where a bowl of punch was brewed directly, 
 and my health was drunk to three times three. Mr. Storer 
 commanded a turtle dinner in my honour. We were not 
 many, fortunately, — only Mr. Fox's little coterie. And it 
 was none other than Mr. Fox who made the speech of the 
 evening. " May I be strung as high as Haman," said he, amid 
 a tempest of laughter, " if ever I saw half so edifying a sight 
 as his Grace pitching into the Serpentine, unless it were his 
 Grace dragged out again. Mr. Carvel's advent has been a 
 Godsend to us narrow ignoramuses of this island, gentlemen. 
 To the Englishmen of our colonies, sirs, and that we may 
 never underrate or misunderstand them more ! " 
 
 "Nay, Charles," cried my Lord Comyn. "Where is our 
 gallantry ? I give you first the Englishwomen of our colonies, 
 and in particular the pride of Maryland, who has brought back 
 to the old country all the graces of the new, — Miss Manners." 
 
 His voice was drowned by a deafening shout, and we charged 
 our glasses to drain them brimming. And then we all went to 
 Drury Lane to see Mrs. Clive romp through Tlie Wonder in 
 the spirit of the "immortal Peg." She spoke an epilogue that 
 Mr. Walpole had writ especial for her, and made some witty 
 and sarcastic remarks directed at the gentlemen in our stage- 
 box. We topped off a very full day by a supper at the Bed- 
 ford Arms, where I must draw the curtain. 
 
 The next morning I was abed at an hour which the sobriety 
 of old age makes me blush to think of. Banks had just con- 
 
 354
 
 I AM EOUNDLY BROUGHT TO TASK 355 
 
 eluded a discreet discourse upon my accomplisliment of the 
 day before, and had left for my newspapers, when be came 
 running back with the information that Miss Manners would 
 see my honour that day. There was no note. Between us we 
 made my toilet in a jiffy, and presently I was walking in at 
 the Manners's door in an amazing hurry, and scarcely waited 
 for a direction. But as I ran up the stairs, I heard the tinkle 
 of the spinet, and the notes of an old, familiar tune fell upon 
 my ears. The words rose in my head with the cadence. 
 
 •' Love me little, love me long, 
 Is the burthen of my song, 
 Love that is too hot and strong 
 Runneth soon to waste." 
 
 That simple air, already mellowed by an hundred years, had 
 always been her favourite. She used to sing it softly to her- 
 self as we roamed the woods and fields of the Eastern Shore. 
 Instinctively I paused at the dressing-room door. Nay, my 
 iears, you need not cry out, such was the custom of the times. 
 A dainty bower it was, filled with the perfume of flowers, and 
 jcosy cupids disporting on the ceiling; and china and silver and 
 ^old filigree strewn about, with my tea-cups on the table. The 
 sunlight fell like a halo round Dorothy's head, her hands 
 strayed over the keys, and her eyes were far away. She had 
 not heard me. I remember her dress, — a silk with blue corn- 
 flowers on a light ground, and the flimsiest of lace caps resting 
 on her hair. I thought her face paler ; but beyond that she 
 did not show her illness. 
 
 She looked up, and perceived me, I thought, with a start. 
 "So it is you!" she said demurely enough; "you are come at 
 last to give an account of yourself." 
 
 " Are you better, Dorothy ? " I asked earnestly. 
 
 " Why should you think that I have been ill ? " she replied, 
 her fingers going back to the spinet. "It is a mistake, sir. 
 Dr. James has given me near a gross of his infamous powders, 
 and is now exploiting another cure. I have been resting from 
 the fatigues of London, while you have been wearing yourself 
 out"
 
 356 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 " Dr. James himself told me your condition was serious," 1 
 said. 
 
 "Of course," said she; "the worse the disease, the more 
 remarkable the cure, the more sought after the physician. 
 When will you get over your provincial simplicity ? " 
 
 I saw there was nothing to be got out of her while in this 
 baffling humour. I wondered what devil impelled a woman to 
 write one way and talk another. In her note to me she had 
 confessed her illness. The words I had formed to say to her 
 were tied on my tongue. But on the whole I congratulated 
 myself. She knew how to step better than I, and there were 
 many awkward things between us of late best not spoken of. 
 But she kept me standing an unconscionable time without a 
 word, which on the whole was cruelty, while she played over 
 some of Dibdin's ballads. 
 
 " Are you in a hurry, sir," she asked at length, turning on 
 me with a smile, "are you in a hurry to join my Lord March 
 or his Grace of Grafton ? And have you writ Captain Clap- 
 saddle and your Whig friends at home of your new intimacies, 
 of Mr. Fox and my Lord Sandwich ? " 
 
 I was dumb. 
 
 "Yes, you must be wishing to get away," she continued 
 cruelly, picking up the newspaper. "I had forgotten this 
 notice. When I saw it this morning I thought of you, and 
 despaired of a glimpse of you to-day." (Reading.) " ' At the 
 Three Hats, Islington, this day, the 10th of May, will be 
 played a grand match at that ancient and much renowned 
 manly diversion called Double Stick by a sett of chosen young 
 men at that exercise from different parts of the West Country, 
 for tAVO guineas given free ; those who break the most heads 
 to bear away the prize. Before the above-mentioned diversion 
 begins, Mr. Sampson and his young German will display al- 
 ternately on one, two, and three horses, various surprising 
 and curious feats of famous horsemanship in like manner as 
 at the Grand Jubilee at Stratford-upon-Avon. Admittance one 
 shilling each person.' Before you leave, Mr. Richard," she 
 continued, with her eyes still on the sheet, " I should like to 
 talk over one or two little matters."
 
 I AM EOUNDLY BROUGHT TO TASK 357 
 
 "Dolly — !" 
 
 " Will you sit, sir ? " 
 
 I sat down uneasily, expecting the worst. She disappointed 
 me, as usual. 
 
 "What an unspeakable place must you keep in Dover 
 Street ! I cannot send even a footman there but what he comes 
 back reeling." 
 
 I had to laugh at this. But there was no smile out of my 
 lady. 
 
 " It took me near an hour and a half to answer your note," 
 I replied. 
 
 " And 'twas a masterpiece ! " exclaimed Dolly, with wither- 
 ing sarcasm ; " oh, a most amazing masterpiece, I'll be bound ! 
 His worship the French Ambassador is a kitten at diplomacy 
 beside you, sir. An hour and a half, did you say, sir? 
 Gemini, the Secretary of State and his whole corps could not 
 have composed the like in a day." 
 
 " Faith ! " I cried, with feeling enough ; " and if that is 
 diplomacy, I would rather make leather breeches than be given 
 an embassy." 
 
 She fixed her eyes upon me so disconcertingly that mine fell. 
 
 " There was a time," she said, with a change of tone, " there 
 was a time when a request of mine, and it were not granted 
 outright, would have received some attention. This is my 
 first experience at being ignored." 
 
 " I had made a wager," said I, " and could not retract with 
 honour." 
 
 '' So you had made a wager ! Now we are to have some news 
 at last. How stupid of you, Richard, not to tell me before. I 
 confess I wonder what these wits find in your company. Here 
 am I who have seen naught but dull women for a fortnight, and 
 you have failed to say anything amusing in a quarter of an 
 hour. Let us hear about the wager.'' 
 
 "There is little to tell," I answered shortly, considerably 
 piqued. " I bet your friend, the Duke of Chartersea, some 
 hundreds of pounds I could ride Lord Baltimore's Pollux for 
 twenty minutes, after which his Grace was to get on and ride 
 twenty more."
 
 358 KICHARD CAEVEL 
 
 " Where did you see the duke ? " Dolly interrupted, without 
 much show of interest. 
 
 I explained how we had met him at Brooks's, and had gone 
 to his house. 
 
 "You went to his house?" she repeated, raising her eye- 
 brows a trifle ; " and Comyn and Mr. Fox ? And pray, how 
 did this pretty subject come up ? " 
 
 I related, very badly, I fear, Fox's story of young Wrot- 
 tlesey and the tea-merchant's daughter. And what does my 
 lady do but get up and turn her back, arranging some pinks in 
 the window. I could have sworn she was laughing, had I not 
 known better. 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " Well, that was a reference to a little pleasantry Mr. Fox 
 had put up on him some time before. His Grace flared, but 
 tried not to show it. He said he had heard I could do some- 
 thing with a horse (I believe he made it up), and Comyn gave 
 oath that I could; and then he offered to bet Comyn that I 
 could not ride this Pollux, who had killed his groom. That 
 made me angry, and I told the duke I was no jockey to be put 
 up to decide wagers, and that he must make his offers to me." 
 
 " La ! " said Dolly, " you fell in head over heels." 
 
 " What do you mean by that ? " I demanded. 
 
 "Nothing," said she, biting her lip. "Come, you are as 
 ponderous as Dr. Johnson." 
 
 "Then Mr. Fox proposed that his Grace should ride after 
 me." 
 
 Here Dolly laughed in her handkerchief. 
 
 " I'll be bound," said she. 
 
 " Then the duke went to York," I continued hurriedly ; 
 " and when he came back we met him at the Star and Garter. 
 He insisted that the match should come off in Hyde Park. I 
 should have preferred the open roads north of Bedford House.'* 
 
 " Where there is no Serpentine," she interrupted, with the 
 faintest suspicion of a twinkle about her eyes. " On, sir, on ! 
 You are as reluctant as our pump at Wilmot House in the dry 
 season. I see you were not killed, as you richly deserved. 
 Let us have the rest of your tale."
 
 I AM ROUNDLY BROUGHT TO TASK 369 
 
 "There is very little more to it, save that I contrived to 
 master the beast, and his Grace — " 
 
 "Was disgraced. A vastly fine achievement, surely. But 
 where are you to stop ? You will be shaming the King next 
 by outwalking him. Pray, how did the duke appear as he was 
 going into the Serpentine ? " 
 
 " You have heard ? " I exclaimed, the trick she had played 
 me dawning upon me. 
 
 "Upon my Avord, Richard, you are more of a simpleton than 
 I thought you. Have you not seen your newspaper this morn- 
 ing?" 
 
 I explained how it was that I had not. She took up the 
 Chronicle. 
 
 "'This Mr. Carvel has made no inconsiderable noise since 
 his arrival in town, and yesterday crowned his performances 
 by defeating publicly a noble duke at a riding match in Hyde 
 Park, before half the quality of the kingdom. His Lordship 
 of March and Ruglen acted as umpire.' There, sir, was I not 
 right to beg Sir John Fielding to put you in safe keeping until 
 your grandfather can send for you ? " 
 
 I made to seize the paper, but she held it from me. 
 
 "'If Mr. Carvel remains long enough in England, he bids 
 fair to share the talk of Mayfair with a certain honourable 
 young gentleman of Brooks's and the Admiralty, whose debts 
 and doings now furnish most of the gossip for the clubs and 
 the card tables. Their names are both connected with this 
 contest. 'Tis whispered that the wager upon which the match 
 was ridden arose — ' " here Dolly stopped shortly, her colour 
 mounting, and cried out with a stamp of her foot. " You are 
 not content to bring publicity upon yourself, who deserve it, 
 but must needs drag innocent names into the newspapers." 
 
 " What have they said ? " I demanded, ready to roll every 
 printer in London in the kennel. 
 
 "Nay, you may read for yourself," said she. -And, flinging 
 the paper, in my lap, left the room. 
 
 They had not said much more, Heaven be praised. But I 
 was angry and mortified as I had never been before, realizing 
 for the first time what a botch I had made of my stay in Lou*
 
 360 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 don. In great dejection, I was picking up my hat to leave thfe 
 house, when Mrs. Manners came in upon me, and insisted that 
 I should stay for dinner. She was very white, and seemed 
 troubled and preoccupied, and said that Mr. Manners had come 
 back from York with a cold on his chest, but would insist upon 
 joining the party to Vauxhall on Monday. I asked her when 
 she was going to the baths, and suggested that the change 
 would do her good. Indeed, she looked badly. 
 
 "We are not going, Richard," she replied; "Dorothy will 
 not hear of it. In spite of the doctor she says she is not ill, 
 and must attend at Vauxhail, too. You are asked ? " 
 
 I said that Mr. Storer had included me. I am sure, from 
 the way she looked at me, that she did not heed my answer. 
 She appeared to hesitate on the verge of a speech, and glanced 
 once or twice at the doors. 
 
 " Richard, I suppose you are old enough to take care of your 
 self, tho' you seem still a child to me. I pray you will be care- 
 ful, my boy," she said, with something of the affection she had 
 always borne me, " for your grandfather's sake, I pray you will 
 run into no more danger. I — we are your old friends, and 
 the only ones here to advise you." 
 
 She stopped, seemingly, to weigh the wisdom of what Avas 
 to come next, while I leaned forward with an eagerness I 
 could not hide. Was she to speak of the Duke of Charter- 
 sea ? Alas, I was not tr know. For at that moment Dorothy 
 came back to inquire why I was not gone to the cudgelling 
 at the Three Hats. I said I had been invited to stay to 
 dinner. 
 
 " Why, I have writ a note asking Comyn," said she, " Do 
 you think the house will hold you both ? " 
 
 His Lordship came in as we were sitting down, bursting 
 with some news, and he could hardly wait to congratulate 
 Dolly on her recovery before he delivered it. 
 
 "Why, Richard," says the dog, "what do you think some 
 wag has done now ? They believe at Brooks's 'twas that jack- 
 anapes of a parson, Dr. Warner, who was there yesterday with 
 March," He drew a clipping from his pocket. "Listen, 
 Miss Dolly: —
 
 I AM ROUNDLY BROUGHT TO TASK 361 
 
 «' ' On Wednesday did a carter see 
 His Grace, the Duke of Ch-rt— s-a, 
 As plump and helpless as a bag, 
 A-straddle of a big-boned nag. 
 " Lord, Sam ! " the carter loudly yelled, 
 On by this wondrous sight impelled, 
 " We'll run and watch this noble gander 
 Master a steed, like Alexander." 
 But, when the carter reached the Row, 
 His Grace had left it, long ago. 
 Bucephalus had leaped the green. 
 The duke was hi '.l.e Serpentine. 
 The fervent wish of all good men 
 That he may ne'er come out again ! ' " 
 
 Comyn's impudence took my breath, tho' the experiment 
 interested me not a little. My lady was pleased to laugh at 
 the doggerel, and even Mrs. Manners. Its effect upon Mr. 
 Marmaduke was not so spontaneous. His smile was half- 
 hearted. Indeed, the little gentleman seemed to have lost his 
 spirits, and said so little (for him), that I was encouraged to 
 corner him that very evening and force him to a confession. 
 But I might have known he was not to be caught. It appeared 
 almost as if he guessed my purpose, for as soon as ever the 
 claret was come on, he excused himself, saying he was promised 
 to Lady Harrington, who wanted one. 
 
 Comyn and I departed early on account of Dorothy. She 
 had denied a dozen who had left cards upon her. 
 
 " Egad, Richard," said my Lord, when we had got to my 
 lodgings, " I made him change colour, did I not ? Do you 
 know how the little fool looks to me ? 'Od's life, he looks 
 hunted, and cursed near brought to earth. We must fetch this 
 thing to a point, Richard. And I am wondering what Charter- 
 sea's next move will be," he added thoughtfully.
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX 
 
 HOLLAND HOUSE 
 
 On the morrow, as I was setting out to dine at Brooks's, 1 
 received the following on a torn slip of paper : " Dear Eichard, 
 we shall have a good show to-day you may care to see." It 
 was signed 'Tox," and dated at St. Stephen's. I lost no 
 time in riding to Westminster, where I found a flock of ex- 
 cited people in Parliament Street and in the Palace Yard. 
 And on climbing the wide stone steps outside and a narrowei' 
 flight within I was admitted directly into the august presence 
 of the representatives of the English people. They were in a 
 most prodigious and unseemly state of uproar. 
 
 What a place is old St. Stephen's Chapel, over St. 
 Mary's in the Vaults, for the great Commons of England to 
 gather ! It is scarce larger or more imposing than our own 
 assembly room in the Stadt House in Annapolis. St. 
 Stephen's measures but ten yards by thirty, with a narrow 
 gallery running along each side for visitors. In one of these, 
 by the rail, I sat down suffocated, bewildered, and- deafened. 
 And my first impression out of the confusion was of the 
 bewigged speaker enthroned under the royal arms, sore put to 
 restore order. On the table in front of him lay the great 
 mace of the Restoration. Three chandeliers threw down 
 their light upon the mob of honourable members, and I won- 
 dered what had put them into this state of uproar. 
 
 Presently, with the help of a kind stranger on my right, 
 who was occasionally making shorthand notes, I got a few 
 bearings. That was the Treasury Bench, where Lord Korth 
 sat (he was wide awake, now). And there was the Govern- 
 ment side. He pointed out Barrington and Weymouth and 
 
 362
 
 HOLLAND HOUSE 363 
 
 Jerry Dyson and Sandwich, and Rigby in the court suit of 
 purple velvet with the sword thrust through the pocket. I 
 took them all in, as some of the worst enemies my country had 
 in Britain. Then my informant seemed to hesitate, and made 
 bold to ask my persuasion. When I told him I was a Whig, 
 and an American, he begged the favour of my hand. 
 
 " There, sir," he cried excitedly, " that stout young gentle- 
 man with the black face and eyebrows, and the blacker heart, 
 I may say, — the one dressed in the fantastical costume called 
 by a French name, — is Mr. Charles Fox. He has been sent 
 by the devil himself, I believe, to ruin this country. 'Ods, 
 sir, that devil Lord Holland begot him. • He is but one and 
 twenty, but his detestable arts have saved North's neck from 
 Burke and Wedderburn on two occasions this year." 
 
 " And what has happened to-day ? " I asked, smiling. 
 
 The stranger smiled, too. 
 
 " Why, sir," he answered, raising his voice above the noise ; 
 " if you have been in London any length of time, you will have 
 read the account, with comment, of the Duke of Grafton's 
 speech in the Lords, signed Domitian. Their Lordships well 
 know it should have been over a greater signature. This after- 
 noon his Grace of Manchester was talking in the Upper House 
 about the Spanish troubles, when Lord Gower arose and desired 
 that the place might be cleared of strangers, lest some Cas- 
 tilian spy might lurk under the gallery. That was directed 
 against us of the press, sir, and their Lordships knew it. 
 'Ad's heart, sir, there was a riot, the house servants tumbling 
 everybody out, and Mr. Burke and Mr. Dunning in the boot, 
 who were gone there on the business of this house to present 
 a bill. Those gentlemen are but just back, calling upon the 
 commons to revenge them and vindicate their honour. And 
 my Lord North looks troubled, as you will mark, for the mat- 
 ter is like to go hard against his Majesty's friends. But hush, 
 Mr. Burke is to speak." 
 
 The house fell quiet to listen, and my friend began to ply 
 his shorthand industriously. I leaned forward with a sharp 
 curiosity to see this great friend of America. He was dressed 
 in a well-worn suit of brown, and I recall a decided Irish face.
 
 364 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 and a more decided Irish accent, which presently I forgot 
 under the spell of his eloquence. I have heard it said he had 
 many defects of delivery. He had none that day, or else I 
 was too little experienced to note them. Afire with indigna- 
 tion, he told how the deputy black rod had hustled him like a 
 vagabond or a thief, and he called the House of Lords a bear 
 garden. He was followed by Dunning, in a still more inflam- 
 matory mood, until it seemed as if all the King's friends in 
 the Lower House must desert their confederates in the Upper. 
 No less important a retainer than Mr. Onslow moved a policy 
 of retaliation, and those that were left began to act like the 
 Egyptians when they felt the Red Sea under them. They 
 nodded and whispered in their consternation. 
 
 It was theii that Mr. Eox got calmly up before the pack of 
 frightened mercenaries and argued (God save the mark !) for 
 moderation. He had the ear of the house in a second, and he 
 spoke with all the confidence — this youngster who had just 
 reached his majority — he had used with me before his inti- 
 mates. I gaped with astonishment and admiration. The 
 Lords, said he, had plainly meant no insult to this honourable 
 house, nor yet to the honourable members. They had aimed 
 at the common enemies of man, the printers. And for this 
 their heat was more than pardonable. My friend at my side 
 stopped his writing to swear under his breath. "Look at 
 'em ! " he cried ; " they are turning already. He could argue 
 Swedeuborg into popery ! " 
 
 The deserters were coming back to the ranks, indeed, and 
 North and Dyson and Weymouth had ceased to look haggard, 
 and were wreathed in smiles. In vain did Mr. Burke 
 harangue them in polished phrase. It was a language North 
 and Company did not understand, and cared not to learn. 
 Their young champion spoke the more worldly and cynical 
 tongue of White's and Brooks's, with its shorter sentences 
 and absence of formality. And even as the devil can quote 
 Scripture to his purpose, Mr. Fox quoted history and the 
 classics, with plenty more that was not above the heads of the 
 booted and spurred country squires. And thus, for the third 
 time, he earned the gratitude of his gracious Majesty,
 
 HOLLAND HOUSE 365 
 
 " Well, Richard," said he, slipping his arm through mine as 
 we came out into Parliament Street, "I promised you some 
 sport. Have you enjoyed it ? " 
 
 I was forced to admit that I had. 
 
 "Let us to the 'Thatched House,' and have supper pri- 
 vately," he suggested. " I do not feel like a company to-night." 
 We walked on for some time in silence. Presently he said : 
 " You must not leave us, Richard. You may go home to see 
 your grandfather die, and when you come back I will see about 
 getting you a little borough for what my father paid for mine. 
 And you shall marry Dorothy, and perchance return in ten 
 years as governor of a principality. That is, after we've 
 ruined you at the club. How does that prospect sit ? " 
 
 I wondered at the mood he was in, that made him choose 
 me rather than the adulation and applause he was sure to 
 receive at Brooks's for the part he had played that night. 
 After we had satisfied our hunger, — for neither of us had 
 dined, — and poured out a bottle of claret, he looked up at me 
 quizzically. 
 
 " I have not heard you congratulate me," he said. 
 
 " Nor will you," I replied, laughing. 
 
 " I like you the better for it, Richard. 'Twas a damned poor 
 performance, and that's truth." 
 
 " I thought the performance remarkable," I said honestly. 
 
 " Oh, but it was not," he answered scornfully. " The 
 moment that dun-coloured Irishman gets up, the Avhole gov- 
 ernment pack begins to whine and shiver. There are men I 
 Went to school with I fear more than Burke. But you don't 
 like to see the champion of America come off second best. 
 Is that what you're thinking ? " 
 
 "No. But I was wondering why you have devoted your 
 talents to the devil," I said, amazed at my boldness. 
 
 He glanced at me, and half laughed again. 
 
 " You are cursed frank," said he ; " damned frank." 
 
 " But you invited it." 
 
 " Yes," he replied, " so I did. Give me a man who is hon- 
 est. Fill up again," said he; "and spit out all you would 
 like to say, Richard."
 
 366 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 "Then," said I, "why do you waste your time and your 
 breath in defending a crew of political brigands and placemen, 
 and a king who knows not the meaning of the word gratitude, 
 and Y/ho has no use for a man of ability ? You have honoured 
 me with your friendship, Charles Fox, and I may take the lib- 
 erty to add that you seem to love power more than spoils. 
 You have originality. You are honest enough to think and 
 act upon your own impulses. And pardon me if I say you 
 have very little chance on that side of the house where you 
 have put yourself." 
 
 "You seem to have picked up a trifle since you came into 
 England," he said. " A damned shrewd estimate, I'll be sworn. 
 And for a colonial ! But, as for power," he added a little dog- 
 gedly, " I have it in plenty, and the kind I like. The King 
 and North hate and fear me already more than Wilkes." 
 
 "And with more cause," I replied warmly. "His Majesty 
 perhaps knows that you understand him better, and foresees 
 the time when a man of your character will give him cause to 
 fear indeed." 
 
 He did not answer that, but called for a reckoning; and 
 taking my arm again, we walked out past the sleeping houses. 
 
 "Have you ever thought much of the men we have in the 
 colonies ? " I asked. 
 
 "No," he replied; "Chatham stands for 'em, and I hate 
 Chatham on my father's account. That is reason enough for 
 me." 
 
 " You should come back to America with me," I said. " And 
 when you had rested awhile at Carvel Hall, I would ride with 
 you through the length of the provinces from Massachusetts 
 to North Carolina. You will see little besides hard-working, 
 self-respecting Englishmen, loyal to a king who deserves loy- 
 alty as little as Louis of France. But with their eyes open, 
 and despite the course he has taken. They are men whose 
 measure of resolution is not guessed at." 
 
 He was silent again until we had got into Piccadilly and 
 opposite his lodgings. 
 
 " Are they all like you ? " he demanded. 
 
 " Who ? " said I. For I had forgotten my words.
 
 HOLLAND HOUSE 367 
 
 •^The Americans." 
 
 "The greater part feel as I do." 
 
 " I suppose you are for bed," he remarked abruptly. 
 
 "The night is not yet begun," I answered, repeating his 
 Tavourite words, and pointing at the glint of the sun on the 
 windows. 
 
 " What do you say to a drive behind those chestnuts of mine, 
 for a breath of air ? I have just got my new cabriolet Selwyn 
 ordered in Paris." 
 
 Soon we were rattling over the stones in Piccadilly, wrapped 
 in greatcoats, for the morning wind was cold. We saw the 
 Earl of March and Rugleu getting out of a chair before his 
 house, opposite the Green Park, and he stopped swearing at 
 the chairmen to wave at us. 
 
 "Hello, March!" Mr. Fox said affably, "you're drunk." 
 
 His Lordship smiled, bowed graciously if unsteadily to me, 
 and did not appear to resent the pleasantry. Then he sighed. 
 
 " What a pair of cubs it is," said he ; " I wish to God I was 
 young again. I hear you astonished the world again last night, 
 Charles." 
 
 We left him being assisted into his residence by a sleepy 
 footman, paid our toll at Hyde Park Corner, and rolled on- 
 ward toward Kensington, Fox laughing as we passed the empty 
 park at the thought of what had so lately occurred there. After 
 the close night of St. Stephen's, nature seemed doubly beauti- 
 ful. The sun slanted over the water in the gardens in bars of 
 green and gold. The bright new leaves were on the trees, and 
 the morning dew had brought with it the smell of the living 
 earth. We passed the stream of market wagons lumbering 
 along, pulled by sturdy, patient farm-horses, driven by smocked 
 countrymen, who touched their caps to the fine gentlemen of 
 the court end of town ; who shook their heads and exchanged 
 deep tones over the whims of quality, unaccountable as the 
 weather. But one big-chested fellow arrested his salute, a scowl 
 came over his face, and he shouted back to the wagoner whose 
 horses were munching his hay : — 
 
 " Hi, Jeems, keep down yere hands. Mr. Fox is noo friend 
 of we."
 
 368 KICHAED CAKVEL 
 
 This brought a hard smile on Mr. Fox's face. 
 
 " I believe, Richard," he said, " I have become more detested 
 than any man in Parliament." 
 
 "And justly," I replied; ''for you have fought all that is 
 good in you." 
 
 " I was mobbed once, in Parliament Street. I thought they 
 would kill me. Have you ever been mobbed, Eichard ? " he 
 asked indifferently. 
 
 " Never, I thank Heaven," I answered fervently. 
 
 "I think I would rather be mobbed than indulge in any 
 amusement I know of," he continued. " Than confound Wed- 
 derburn, or drive a measure against Burke, — which is no bad 
 sport, my word on't. I would rather be mobbed than have my 
 horse win at Newmarket. There is a keen pleasure you wot 
 not of, my lad, in listening to Billingsgate and Spitalfields 
 howl maledictions upon you. And no sensation I know of is 
 equal to that of the moment when the mud and sticks and 
 oranges are coming through the windows of your coach, when 
 the dirty weavers are clutching at your ruffles and shaking 
 their filthy fists under yoiir nose." 
 
 " It is, at any rate, strictly an aristocratic pleasure," I as- 
 sented, laughing. 
 
 So we came to Holland House. Its wide fields of sprouting 
 corn, its woods and pastures and orchards in blossom, were 
 smiling that morning, as though Leviathan, the town, were not 
 rolling onward to swallow them. Lord Holland had bought the 
 place from the Warwicks, with all its associations and memories. 
 The capped towers and quaint fa(^ades and projecting windows 
 were plain to be seen from where we halted in the shaded 
 park, and to the south was that Kensington Eoad we had left, 
 over which all the glory and royalty of England at one time or 
 another had rolled. Under these majestic oaks and cedars 
 Cromwell and Ireton had stood while the beaten Eoyalists 
 lashed their horses on to Brentford. Nor did I forget that the 
 renowned Addison had lived here after his unhappy marriage 
 with Lady Warwick, and had often ridden hence to Button's 
 Coifee House in town, where my grandfather had had his 
 dinner with Dean Swift.
 
 HOLLAND HOUSE 369 
 
 We sat gazing at the building, which was bathed in the 
 early sun, at the deer and sheep grazing in the park, at the 
 changing colours of the young leaves as the breeze swayed 
 them. The market wagons had almost ceased now, and there 
 was little to break the stillness. 
 
 " You love the place ? " I said. 
 
 He started, as though I had awakened him out of a sleep. 
 And he was no longer the Fox of the clubs, the cynical, the 
 reckless. He was no longer the best-dressed man in St, 
 James's Street, or the aggressive youngster of St. Stephen's. 
 
 " Love it ! " he cried. " Ay, Richard, and few guess how 
 well. You will not laugh when I tell you that my happiest 
 days have been passed here, when I was but a chit, in the 
 long room where Addison used to walk up and down compos- 
 ing his Spectators : or trotting after my father through these 
 woods and gardens. A kinder parent does not breathe than 
 he. Well I remember how he tossed me in his arms under 
 that tree when I had thrashed another lad for speaking ill of 
 him. He called me his knight. In all my life he has never 
 broken faith with me. When they were blasting down a wall 
 where those palings now stand, he promised me I should see it 
 done, and had it rebuilt and blown down again because I had 
 missed the sight. All he ever exacted of me was that I should 
 treat him as an elder brother. He had his own notion of the 
 world I was going into, and prepared me accordingly. He 
 took me from Eton to Spa, where I learned gaming instead of 
 Greek, and gave me so much a night to risk at play." 
 
 I looked at him in astonishment. To say that I thought 
 these relations strange would have been a waste of words. 
 
 " To be sure," Charles continued, " I was bound to learn, and 
 could acquire no younger." He flicked the glossy red backs of 
 his horses with his whip. "You are thinking it an extraordi- 
 nary education, I know," he added rather sadly. " I have told 
 you this — God knows why ! Yes, because I like you dam- 
 nably, and you would have heard worse elsewhere, both of him 
 and of me. I fear you have listened to the world's opinion of 
 Lord Holland." 
 
 Indeed, I had heard a deal of that nobleman's peculations of 
 2b
 
 370 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 the public funds. But in this he was no worse than the bulk 
 of his colleagues. His desertion of William Pitt I found hard 
 to forgive. 
 
 " The best father in the world, Richard ! " cried Charles. 
 " If his former friends could but look into his kind heart, and 
 see him in his home, they would not have turned their backs 
 upon him. I do not mean such scoundrels as Rigby. And now 
 my father is in exile half the year in Nice, and the other half 
 at King's Gate. The King and Jack Bute used him for a tool, 
 and then cast him out. You wonder why I am of the King's 
 party ? " said he, with something sinister in his smile ; " I 
 will tell you. When 1 got my borough I cared not a fig for 
 parties or principles. I had only the one definite ambition, to 
 revenge Lord Holland. Nay," he exclaimed, stopping my 
 protest, " I was not too young to know rottenness as well as 
 another. The times are rotten in England. You may have 
 virtue in America, amongst a people which is fresh from a 
 struggle with the earth and its savages. We have cursed little 
 at home, in faith. The King, with his barley water and rising 
 at six, and shivering in chapel, and his middle-class table, is 
 rottener than the rest. The money he saves in his damned 
 beggarly court goes to buy men's souls. His word is good with 
 none. For my part I prefer a man who is drunk six days out 
 of the seven to one who takes his pleasure so. And I am not 
 so great a fool that I cannot distinguish justice from injustice, 
 I know the wrongs of the colonies, which you yourself have put 
 as clear as I wish to hear, despite Mr. Burke and his eloquence.^ 
 And perhaps, Richard," he concluded, with a last lingering look 
 at the old pile as he turned his horses, " perhaps some day, I 
 shall remember what you told us at Brooks's." 
 
 It was thus, boyishly, that Mr. Fox chose to take me into his 
 confidence, an honour which I shall remember with a thrill to 
 my dying day. So did he reveal to me the impulses of his 
 early life, hidden forever from his detractors. How little does 
 the censure of this world count, which cannot see the heart 
 behind the embroidered waistcoat ! When Charles Fox began 
 
 iMy grandfather has made a note here, which in justice shouW be added, 
 that he was not deceived by Mr. Fox's partiality. — D. C. C.
 
 HOLLAND HOUSE 371 
 
 his career he was a thoughtless lad, but steadfast to such prin- 
 ciples as he had formed for himself. They were not many, but, 
 compared to those of the arena which he entered, they were 
 noble. He strove to serve his friends, to lift the name of a 
 father from whom he had received nothing but kindness, how- 
 ever misguided. And when he saw at length the error of his 
 ways, what a mighty blow did he strike for the right ! 
 
 " Here is a man," said Dr. Johnson, many years afterwards, 
 " who has divided his kingdom with Caesar ; so that it was a 
 doubt whether the nation should be ruled by the sceptre of 
 George the Third or the tongue of Fox."
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 VAUXHALL 
 
 Matters had come to a pretty pickle indeed. I was openly 
 warned at Brooks's and elsewhere to beware of the duke, who 
 was said upon various authority to be sulking in Hanover 
 Square, his rage all the more dangerous because it was smoul- 
 dering. I saw Dolly only casually before the party to Vaux- 
 hall. Needless to say, she flew in the face of Dr. James's 
 authority, and went everywhere. She was at Lady Bunbury's 
 drum, whither I had gone in another fruitless chase after Mr. 
 Marmaduke. Dr. Warner's verse was the laughter of the com- 
 pany. And, greatly to my annoyance, — in the circumstances, 
 — I was made a hero of, and showered with three times as 
 many invitations as I could accept. 
 
 The whole story got abroad, even to the awakening of the 
 duke in Covent Garden. And that clownish Mr. Foote, of the 
 Haymarket, had added some lines to a silly popular song en- 
 titled The Sights o' Lunnun, with which I was hailed at Mrs. 
 Betty's fruit-stall in St. James's Street. Here is one of the 
 verses : — 
 
 "In Maryland, he hunts the Fox 
 From dewy Morn till Day grows dim; 
 At Home he finds a Paradox, — 
 From Noon till Dawn the Fox hunts him." 
 
 Charles Fox laughed when he heard it. But he was serious 
 when he came to speak of Chartersea, and bade me look out 
 for assassination. I had Banks follow me abroad at night with 
 a brace of pistols under his coat, albeit I feared nothing save 
 that I should not have an opportunity to meet the duke in a 
 
 372
 
 VAUXHALL 373 
 
 fair fight. And I resolved at all hazards to run Mr. Marma- 
 duke down with despatch, if I had to waylay him. 
 
 Mr. Storer, who was forever giving parties, was responsible 
 for this one at Vauxhall. We went in three coaches, and be- 
 sides Dorothy and Mr. Marmaduke, the company included Lord 
 and Lady Carlisle, Sir Charles and Lady Sarah Bunbury, Lady 
 Ossory and Lady Julia Howard, two Miss Stanleys and Miss 
 Poole, and. Comyn, and Hare, and Price, and Fitzpatrick, the 
 latter feeling very glum over a sum he had dropped that after- 
 noon to Lord Harrington. Fox had been called to St. Steph- 
 en's on more printer's business. 
 
 Dolly was in glowing pink, as I loved best to see her, and 
 looked divine. Comyn and I were in Mr. Manners's coach. 
 The evening was fine and warm, and my lady in very lively 
 spirits. As we rattled over Westminster Bridge, the music of 
 the Vauxhall band came " throbbing through the still night," 
 and the sky was bright with the reflection of the lights. It 
 was the fashion with the quality to go late ; and so eleven 
 o'clock had struck before we had pulled up between Vaux- 
 hall stairs, crowded with watermen and rough mudlarks, and 
 the very ordinary-looking house which forms the entrance 
 of the great garden. Leaving the servants outside, single-file 
 we trailed through the dark passage guarded by the wicket- 
 gate. 
 
 " Prepare to be ravished, Richard," said my lady, with fine 
 sarcasm. 
 
 " You were yourself born in the colonies, miss," I retorted. 
 " I confess to a thrill, and will not pretend that I have seen 
 such sights often enough to be sated." 
 
 " La ! " exclaimed Lady Sarah, who had overheard ; " I vow 
 this is refreshing. Behold a new heaven and a new earth, Mr. 
 Carvel ! " 
 
 Indeed, much to the amusement of the company, I took no 
 pains to hide my enthusiasm at the brilliancy of the scene 
 which burst upon me. A great orchestra rose in the midst of 
 a stately grove lined on all four sides with supper-boxes of 
 brave colours, which ran in straight tiers or swept around in 
 circles. These were filled with people of all sorts and condi-
 
 374 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 tions, supping and making merry. Other people were sauntering 
 under the trees, keeping step with the music. Lamps of white 
 and blue and red and green hung like luminous fruit from the 
 branches, or clustered in stars and crescents upon the buildings. 
 " Why, Richard, you are as bad as Farmer Colin. 
 
 " ' O Patty ! Soft in feature, 
 I've been at dear Vauxhall ; 
 No paradise is sweeter, 
 Not that they Eden call.' " 
 
 whispered Dolly, paraphrasing. 
 
 At that instant came hurrying Mr. Tom Tyers, who was one 
 of the brothers, proprietors of the gardens. He was a very 
 lively young fellow who seemed to know everybody, and he 
 desired to know if we would walk about a little before being 
 shown to the boxes reserved for us. 
 
 " They are on the right side, Mr. Tyers ? " demanded Mr. 
 Storer. 
 
 '' Oh, to be sure, sir. Your man was most particular to stipu- 
 late the pink and blue flowered brocades, next the Prince of 
 Wales's." 
 
 " But you must have the band stop that piece, Mr. Tyers," 
 cried Lady Sarah. " I declare, it is too much for my nerves. 
 Let them play Dibbin's Ephesian 3Iatron." 
 
 "As your Ladyship wishes," responded the obliging Mr. 
 Tyers, and sent off an uniformed warder to the band-master. 
 
 As he led us into the Rotunda, my Lady Dolly, being in one 
 of her whimsical humours, began to recite in the manner of the 
 guide-book, to the vast diversion of our party and the honest 
 citizens gaping at us. 
 
 " This, my lords, ladies, and gentlemen," says the minx, " is 
 that marvellous Rotunda commonly known as the ' umbrella,' 
 where the music plays on wet nights, and where we have our 
 masquerades and ridottos. Their Royal Highnesses are very 
 commonly seen here on such occasions. As you see, it is deco- 
 rated with mirrors and scenes and busts, and with gilded fes- 
 toons. That picture was painted by the famous Hogarth. 
 The organ in the orchestra cost — you must supply the figure,
 
 VAUXHALL 375 
 
 Mr. Tyers, — and the ceiling is at least two hundred feet 
 high. Gentlemen from the colonies and the country take 
 notice." 
 
 By this time we were surrounded. Mr. Marmaduke was 
 scandalized and crushed, but Mr. Tyers, used to the vagaries of 
 his fashionable patrons, was wholly convulsed. 
 
 " Faith, Miss Manners, and you would consent to do this 
 two nights more, we should have to open another gate," 
 he declared. Followed by the mob, which it seems was part 
 of the excitement, he led us out of the building into the 
 Grand Walk; and offered to turn on the waterfall and mill, 
 which (so Lady Sarah explained to me) the farmers and mer- 
 chants fell down and worshipped every night at nine, to the 
 tinkling of bells. She told Mr. Tyers there was diversion 
 enough without " tin cascades." When we got to the Grand 
 Cross Walk he pointed out the black " Wilderness " of tall 
 elms and cedars looming ahead of us. And so we came to the 
 South Walk, with its three triumphal arches framing a noble 
 view of architecture at the far end. Our gentlemen saun- 
 tered ahead, with their spy-glasses, staring the citizens' pretty 
 daughters out of countenance, and making cynical remarks. 
 
 " Why, egad ! " I heard Sir Charles say, " the wig-makers 
 have no cause to petition his Majesty for work. I'll be sworn 
 the false hair this good staymaker has on cost a guinea." 
 
 A remark which caused the staymaker (if such he was) such 
 huge discomfort that he made off with his wife in the opposite 
 direction, to the time of jeers and cock-crows from the bevy 
 of Vauxhall bucks walking abreast. 
 
 "You must show us the famous 'dark walks,' Mr. Tyers," 
 says Dorothy. 
 
 " Surely you will not care to see those, Miss Manners." 
 
 "0 lud, of course you must," chimed in the Miss Stanleys; 
 "there is no spice in these flaps and flies." 
 
 He led us accordingly into Druid's Walk, overarched with 
 elms, and dark as the shades, our gentlemen singing, " 'Ods ! 
 Lovers will contrive," in chorus, the ladies exclaiming and 
 drawing together. Then I felt a soft, restraining hold on my 
 arm, and fell back instinctively, vibrating to the touch.
 
 376 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 " Could you not see that I have been trying to get a word 
 with you for ever so long ? " 
 
 " I trust you to find a way, Dolly, if you but wish," I re- 
 plied, admiring her stratagem. 
 
 "I am serious to-night." Indeed, her voice betrayed as 
 much. How well I recall those rich and low tones! "I said 
 I wished you shut up in the Marshalsea, and I meant it. I 
 have been worrying about you." 
 
 " You make me very happy," said I ; which was no lie. 
 
 "Richard, you are every bit as reckless and indifferent of 
 danger as they say your father was. And I am afraid — " 
 
 " Of what ? " I asked quickly. 
 
 "You once mentioned a name to me — " 
 
 " Yes ? " I was breathing deep. 
 
 "I have forgiven you," she said gently. "I never meant 
 to have referred to that incident more. You will understand 
 whom I mean. You must know that he is a dangerous man, 
 and a treacherous. Oh ! " she exclaimed, " 1 have been in 
 hourly terror ever since you rode against him in Hyde Park. 
 There ! I have said it." 
 
 The tense sweetness of that moment none will ever know. 
 
 " But you have more reason to fear him than I, Dorothy." 
 
 " Hush ! " she whispered, catching her breath ; " what are 
 you saying ? " 
 
 " That he has more cause to fear me than I to dread him." 
 
 She came a little closer. 
 
 "You stayed in London for me, Richard. Why did you? 
 There was no need," she exclaimed ; " there was no need, do 
 you hear ? Oh, I shall never forgive Comyn for his meddling ! 
 I am sure 'twas he who told you some ridiculous story. He 
 had no foundation for it." 
 
 "Dorothy," I demanded, my voice shaking with earnest- 
 ness, "will you tell me honestly there is no foundation for 
 the report that the duke is intriguing to marry you ? " 
 
 That question was not answered, and regret came the in- 
 stant it had left my lips — regret and conviction both. Doro- 
 thy joined Lady Carlisle before our absence had been noted, 
 and began to banter Fitzpatrick upon his losings.
 
 VAUXHALL 377 
 
 We were in the lighted Grove again, and sitting down to a 
 supper of Vauxhall fare : transparent slices of ham (which 
 had been a Vauxhall joke for ages), and chickens and cheese 
 cakes and champagne and claret, and arrack punch. Mr. 
 Tyers extended the concert in our favour. Mrs. Weichsell 
 and the beautiful Baddeley trilled sentimental ballads which 
 our ladies chose ; and Mr. Vernon, the celebrated tenor, sang 
 Ciqyid''s Recruiting Sergeant so happily that Storer sent him 
 a bottle of champagne. After which we amused ourselves with 
 oatches until the space between our boxes and the orchestra 
 was filled. In the midst of this Comyn came quietly in from 
 the other box and took a seat beside me. 
 
 " Chartersea is here to-night," said he. 
 
 I started. " How do you know ? " 
 
 "Tyers told me he turned up half an hour since. Tom 
 asked his Grace to join our party," his Lordship lawghed. 
 " Duke said no — he was to be here only half an hour, and 
 Tom did not push him. He told me as a joke, and thinks 
 Chartersea came to meet some petite." 
 
 " Any one with him ? " I asked. 
 
 "Yes. Tall, dark man, one eye cast, — that's Lewis. They 
 have come on some dirty work, Richard. Watch little Mar- 
 maduke. He has been fidgety as a cat all night." 
 
 " That's true," said I. Looking up, I caught Dorothy's eyes 
 upon us, her lips parted, uneasiness and apprehension plain 
 upon her face. Comyn dropped his voice still lower. 
 
 " I believe she suspects something," he said, rising. " Char- 
 tersea is gone off toward the Wilderness, so Tom says. You 
 must not let little Marmaduke see him. If Manners gets up 
 to go, I will tune up Black-eyed Susan, and do you follow 
 on some pretext. If you are not back in a reasonable time, I'll 
 after you." 
 
 He had been gone scant three minutes before I heard his 
 clear voice singing All in the Doivns, and up I got, with a 
 precipitation far from politic, and stepped out of the box. Our 
 company stared in surprise. But Dorothy rose clear from her 
 chair. The terror I saw stamped upon her face haunts me yet, 
 and I heard her call my name.
 
 378 RICHAED CARVEL 
 
 I waited for nothing. Gaining the Grand Walk, I saw Mr. 
 Marmaduke's insignificant figure dodging fearfully among the 
 roughs, whose hour it was. He traversed the Cross Walk, and 
 twenty yards farther on dived into an opening in the high 
 hedge bounding the Wilderness. Before he had made six 
 paces I had him by the shoulder, and he let out a shriek of 
 fright like a woman's. 
 
 " It is I, Richard Carvel, Mr. Manners," I said shortly. I 
 could not keep out the contempt from my tone. "I beg a word 
 with you." 
 
 In his condition then words were impossible. His teeth rat- 
 tled again, and he trembled like a hare caught alive. I kept 
 my hold of him, and employed the time until he should be 
 more composed peering into the darkness. For all I knew 
 Chartersea might be within ear-shot. But I could see nothing 
 but black trunks of trees. 
 
 " What is it, Richard ? " 
 
 " You are going to meet Chartersea," I said. 
 
 He must have seen the futility of a lie, or else was scared 
 out of all contrivance. " Yes," he said weakly. 
 
 " You have allowed it to become the talk of London that this 
 filthy nobleman is blackmailing you for your daughter," I went 
 on, without wasting words. " Tell me, is it, or is it not, 
 true ? " 
 
 As he did not answer, I retained a handful of the grained 
 silk on his shoulder as a measure of precaution. 
 
 " Is this so ? " I repeated. 
 
 " You must know, I suppose," he said, under his breath, and 
 with a note of sullenness. 
 
 " I must," I said firmly. " The knowledge is the weapon I 
 need, for I, too, am going to meet Chartersea." 
 
 He ceased quivering all at once. 
 
 " You are going to meet him ! " he cried, in another voice. 
 " Yes, yes, it is so, — it is so. I will tell you all." 
 
 " Keep it to yourself, Mr. Manners," I replied, with repiig- 
 nance, " I have heard all I wish. Where is he ? " I demanded, 
 
 " Hold the path until you come to him. And God bless — " 
 
 I shook my head.
 
 VAUXHALL 379 
 
 "No, not that! Do you go back to the company and make 
 some excuse for me. Do not alarm them. And if you get the 
 chance, tell Lord Comyn where to come." 
 
 I waited until I saw him under the lights of the Grand Walk, 
 and fairly running. Then I swung on my heel. I was of two 
 minds whether to wait for Comyn, by far the wiser course. 
 The unthinking recklessness I had inherited drove me on.
 
 CHAPTER XLl 
 
 THE WILDERNESS 
 
 My eyes had become accustomed to the darkness, and pres- 
 ently I made out a bench ahead, with two black figures starting 
 from it. One I should have known on the banks of the Styx. 
 From each came a separate oath as I stopped abreast them, and 
 called the duke by name. 
 
 " Mr. Carvel ! " he cried ; " what the devil do you here, sir ? " 
 
 " I am come to keep an appointment for Mr. Manners," I 
 said. " May I speak to your Grace alone ? " 
 
 He made a peculiar sound by sucking in his breath, meant 
 for a sneering laugh. 
 
 " No," says he, " damned if you shall ! I have nothing in 
 common with you, sir. So love for Miss Manners has driven 
 you mad, my young upstart. And he is not the first, Lewis." 
 
 " Nor the last, by G — ," says the captain. 
 
 " I have a score to settle with you, d — n you ! " cried Char- 
 tersea. 
 
 " That is why I am here, your Grace," I replied ; " only you 
 have twisted the words. There has been foul play enough. I 
 have come to tell you," I cried, boiling with anger, "I have 
 come to tell you there has been foul play enough with a weak- 
 ling that cannot protect himself, and to put an end to your 
 blackmail." 
 
 In the place of an oath, a hoarse laugh of derision came out 
 of him. But I was too angry then to note its significance. 
 I slapped his face — nay, boxed it so that my palm stung. I 
 heard his sword scraping out of the scabbard, and drew mine, 
 stepping back to distance at the same instant. Then, with 
 something of a shudder, I remembered young Atwater, and a 
 
 38C
 
 THE WILDERNESS 381 
 
 brace of other instances of his villany. I looked for the 
 captain. He was gone. 
 
 Our blades, the duke's and mine, came together with a ring, and 
 I felt the strength of his wrist behind his, and of his short, pow- 
 erful arm. The steel sung with our quick changes from quarte 
 to tierce. 'Twas all by the feeling, without light to go by, and 
 hatred between us left little space for skill. Our lunges were 
 furious. 'Twas not long before I felt his point at my chest, 
 but his reach was scant. All at once the music swelled up : 
 voices and laughter were wafted faintly from the pleasure- 
 world of lights beyond. But my head was filled, to the exclu- 
 sion of all else, with a hatred and fury. And (God forgive 
 me !) from between my teeth came a prayer that if I might 
 kill this monster, I would die willingly. 
 
 Suddenly, as I pressed him, he shifted ground, and there 
 was Lewis standing within range of my eye. His hands were 
 nowhere — they were behind his back ! God alone knowa 
 why he had not murdered me. To keep Chartersea between 
 him and me I swung another quarter. The duke seemed to 
 see my game, struggled against it, tried to rush in under my 
 guard, made a vicious lunge that would have ended me then 
 and there had he not slipped. We were both panting like wild 
 beasts. When next I raised my eyes Lewis had faded into the 
 darkness. Then I felt my head as wet as from a plunge, the 
 water running on my brow, and my back twitching. Every 
 second I thought the sting of his sword was between my ribs. 
 But to forsake the duke would have been the maddest of follies. 
 
 In that moment of agony came footsteps beating on the path, 
 and by tacit consent our swords were still. We listened. 
 
 " Richard ! Richard Carvel ! " 
 
 For the second time in my life I thanked Heaven for that 
 brave and loyal English heart. I called back, but my throat 
 was dry and choked. 
 
 " So they are at their d — d assassins' tricks again ! You 
 need have no fear of one murderer." 
 
 With that their steels rang out behind me like broadswords, 
 Lewis wasting his breath in curses and blasphemies. I began 
 to push Chartersea with all my might, and the wonder of it
 
 382 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 was that we did not fight with our fingers on each other's necks. 
 His attacks, too, redoubled. Twice I felt the stings of his 
 point, once in the hand, and once in the body, but I minded 
 them as little as pin-pricks. I was sure I had touched him, 
 too. I heard him blowing distressedly. The casks of wine he 
 had drunk in his short life were telling now, and his thrusts 
 grew weaker. That fiercest of all joys — of killing an enemy 
 — was in me, when I heard a cry that rang in my ears for 
 many a year afterward, and the thud of a body on the ground. 
 
 "I have done for him, your Grace," says Lewis, with an 
 oath ; and added immediately, " I think I hear people." 
 
 Before I had reached my Lord the captain repeated this, and 
 excitedly begged the duke, I believe, to fly. Chartersea hissed 
 out that he would not move a step until he had finished me, 
 and as I bent over the body his point popped through my coat, 
 and the pain shot under my shoulder. I staggered, and fell. 
 A second of silence ensued, when the duke said with a laugh 
 that was a cackle : — 
 
 " He won't marry her, d — n him ! " (panting). " He had me 
 cursed near killed, Lewis. Best give him another for luck." 
 
 I felt his heavy hand on the sword, and it tearing out of me. 
 Next came the single word " Dover," and they were gone. I 
 had not lost my senses, and was on my knees again immediately, 
 ripping open Comyn's waistcoat with my left hand, and mur- 
 muring his name in an agony of sorrow. I was searching 
 under his shirt, wet with blood, when I became aware of voices 
 at my side. " A duel ! A murder 1 Call the warders ! Ward- 
 ers, ho ! " 
 
 " A surgeon ! " I cried. " A surgeon first of all ! " 
 
 Some one had wrenched a lamp from the Grand Walk and 
 held it, flickering in the wind, before his Lordship's face. 
 Guided by its light, more people came running through the 
 wood, then the warders with lanthorns, headed by Mr. Tyers, 
 and on top of him Mr. Fitzpatrick and my Lord Carlisle. We 
 carried poor Jack to the house at the gate, and closed the doors 
 against the crowd. 
 
 By the grace of Heaven Sir Charles Blicke was walking in 
 the gardens that night, and, battering at the door, was admitted 
 
 I
 
 THE WILDEENESS 383 
 
 along with the constable and the watch. Assisted by a young 
 apothecary, Sir Charles washed and dressed the wound, which 
 was in the left groin, and to our anxious questions replied that 
 there was a chance of recovery. 
 
 " But you, too, are hurt, sir," he said, turning his clear eyes 
 upon me. Indeed, the blood had been dripping from my hand 
 and arm during the whole of the operation, and I began to be 
 weak from the loss of it. By great good fortune Chartersea's 
 thrust, which he thought had ended my life, passed under my 
 armpit from behind and, stitching the skin, lodged deep in my 
 right nipple. This wound the surgeon bound carefully, and 
 likewise two smaller ones. 
 
 The constable was for carrying me to the Marshalsea. And so 
 I was forced to tell that I had quarrelled with Chartersea ; and 
 the watch, going out to the scene of the fight, discovered the 
 duke's sword which he had pulled out of me, and Lewis's 
 laced hat; and also a trail of blood leading from the spot. 
 Mr. Tyers testified that he had seen Chartersea that night, and 
 Lord Carlisle and Fitzpatrick to the grudge the duke bore me. 
 I was given my liberty. 
 
 Comyn was taken to his house in Brook Street, Grosvenor 
 Square, in Sir Charles's coach, whither I insisted upon preced- 
 ing him. 'Twas on the way there that Fitzpatrick told me 
 Dorothy had fainted \7hen she heard the alarm — a piece of 
 news which added to my anxiety. We called up the dowager 
 countess, Comyn's mother, and Carlisle broke the news to her, 
 mercifully lightening me of a share of the blame. Her Lady- 
 ship received the tidings with great fortitude ; and instead of 
 the torrent of reproaches I looked for, and deserved, she im- 
 plored me to go home and care for my injuries lest I get the 
 fever. I believe that I burst into tears. 
 
 His Lordship was carried up the stairs with never a word or 
 a groan from his lips, and his heart beating out slowly. 
 
 We reached my lodgings as the watchman was crying : 
 "Past two o'clock, and a windy morning ! " 
 
 Mr. Fitzpatrick stayed with me that night. And the next 
 morning, save for the soreness of the cuts I had got, I found
 
 384 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 myself well as ever. I was again to thank the robustness 
 of my health. Despite the protests of Banks and Fitzpatrick, 
 and of Mr. Fox (who arrived early, not having been to bed at 
 all), I jumped into a chaise and drove to Brook Street. There 
 I had the good fortune to get the greatest load from my mind. 
 Comyn was resting so much easier that the surgeon had left, 
 and her Ladyship retired two hours since. 
 
 The day was misting and dark, but so vast was my relief 
 that I imagined the sun was out as I rattled toward Arling- 
 ton Street. If only Dolly were not ill again from the shock, I 
 should be happy indeed. She must have heard, ere then, that 
 I was not killed ; and I had still better news to tell her than 
 that of Lord Comyn's condition. Mr. Fox. who got every 
 rumour that ran, had shouted after me that the duke and 
 Lewis were set out for France. How he knew I had not waited 
 to inquire. But the report tallied with my own surmise, for 
 they had used the word " Dover " when they left us for dead 
 in the Wilderness. 
 
 I dismissed my chaise at the door. 
 
 " Mr. Manners waits on you, sir, in the drawing-room," said 
 the footman. '' Your honour is here sooner than he looked for," 
 lie added gratuitously. 
 
 " Sooner than he looked for ? " 
 
 "Yes, sir. James is gone to you but quarter of an hour 
 since with a message, sir." 
 
 I was puzzled. 
 
 " And Miss Manners ? Is she well ? " 
 
 The man smiled. 
 
 " Very well, sir, thank your honour." 
 
 To add to my surprise, Mr. Marmaduke was pacing the draw- 
 ing-room in a yellow night-gown. He met me with an expres- 
 sion I failed to fathom, and then my eye was held by a letter 
 in his hand. He cleared his throat. 
 
 "Good morning, Richard," said he, very serious, — very 
 pompous, I thought. " I am pleased to see that you are so 
 well out of the deplorable affair of last night." 
 
 I had not looked for gratitude. In truth, I had done noth- 
 ing for him, and Chartersea might have exposed him a high-
 
 THE WILDERNESS 385 
 
 wayman for all I cared, — I had fought for Dolly. But this 
 attitude astonished me. I was about to make a tart reply, and 
 then thought better of it. 
 
 "Walter, a decanter of wine for Mr. Carvel," says he to 
 the footman. Then to me : " I am rejoiced to hear that Lord 
 Comyn is out of danger." 
 
 I merely stared at him. 
 
 "Will you sit ?" he continued. " To speak truth, the Annap- 
 olis packet came in last night with news for you. Knowing 
 that you have not had time to hear from Maryland, I sent for 
 you." 
 
 My brain was in such a state that for the moment I took no 
 meaning from this introduction. I was conscious only of indig- 
 nation against him for sending for me, when for all he knew I 
 might have been unable to leave my bed. Suddenly I jumped 
 from the chair. 
 
 " You have heard from Maryland ? " I cried. " Is Mr. Car- 
 vel dead ? Oh, tell me, is Mr. Carvel dead ? " And I clutched 
 his arm to make him wince. 
 
 He nodded, and turned away. "My dear old friend is no 
 more," he said. " Your grandfather passed away on the seventh 
 of last month." 
 
 I sank into a chair and bowed my face, a flood of recollec- 
 tions overwhelming me, a thousand kindnesses of my grand- 
 father coming to mind. One comfort alone stood forth, — 
 even had I gone home with John Paul, I had missed him. 
 But that he should have died alone with Grafton brought the 
 tears brimming to my eyes. I had thought to be there to 
 receive his last words and blessing, to watch over him, and to 
 smooth his pillow. Who had he else in the world to bear him 
 affection on his death-bed ? The imagination of that scene 
 drove me mad. 
 
 Mr. Manners aroused me by a touch, and T looked up quickly. 
 So quickly that I surprised the trace of a smile about his weak 
 mouth. Were I to die to-morrow, I would swear to this on the 
 Evangels. Nor was it the smile which compels itself upon 
 the weak in serious moments. Nay, there was in it something 
 malicious. And Mr. Manners could not even act. 
 2c
 
 386 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 " There is more, Richard," he was saying ; " there is worse 
 to come. Can you bear it ? " 
 
 His words and look roused me from my sorrow. I have 
 ever been short of temper with those I disliked, and (alas ! ) 
 with my friends also. And now all my pent-up wrath against 
 this little man broke forth. I divined his meaning, and forgot 
 that he was Dorothy's father. 
 
 " Worse ?" I shouted, while he gave back in his alarm. 
 "Do you mean that Grafton has got possession of the estate ? 
 Is that what you mean, sir ? " 
 
 " Yes," he gasped, " yes. I pray you be calm." 
 
 " And you call that worse than losing my dearest friend on 
 earth ? " I cried. There must have been an infinite scorn in 
 my voice. " Then your standards and mine are different, Mr. 
 Manners. Your ways and mine are different, and I thank God 
 for it. You have played more than one double part with me. 
 You looked me in the face and denied me, and left me to go 
 to a prison. I shall not repeat my grandfather's kindnesses 
 to you, sir. Though you may not recall them, I do. And if 
 your treatment of me was known in Maryland, you would 
 be drummed out of the colony even as Mr. Hood was, and 
 hung in effigy." 
 
 "As God hears me, Richard — " 
 
 "Do not add perjury to it," I said. "And have no uneasi- 
 ness that I shall publish you. Your wife and daughter have 
 saved you before, — they will save you now." 
 
 I paused, struck speechless by a suspicion that suddenly 
 flashed into my head. A glance at the contemptible form 
 cowering within the folds of the flowered gown clinched it to 
 a conviction. In two strides I had seized him by the skin 
 over his ribs, and he shrieked with pain and fright. 
 
 « You — you snake ! " I cried, in uncontrollable anger. " You 
 well knew Dorothy's spirit, which she has not got from you, 
 and you lied to her. Yes, lied, I say. To force her to marry 
 Chartersea you made her believe that your precious honour 
 was in danger. And you lied to me last night, and sent me in 
 the dark to fight two of the most treacherous villains in Eng- 
 land. You wish they had killed me. The plot was between
 
 "You . . . Avori.n seli- your daughter and your honour for a title"
 
 THE WILDERNESS 387 
 
 you and his Grace. You, who have not a cat's courage, com 
 mit an indiscretion ! You never made one in your life. Tell 
 me," I cried, shaking him until his teeth smote together, " was 
 it not put up between you ? " 
 
 " Let me go ! Let me go, and I will tell ! " he wailed in the 
 agony of my grip. I tightened it the more. 
 
 " You shall confess it first," I said, from between my teeth. 
 
 Scarce had his lips formed the word yes, when I had flung 
 him half across the room. He tripped on his gown, and fell 
 sprawling on his hands. So the servant found us when he 
 came back with the tray. The lackey went out again hastily. 
 
 " My God ! " I exclaimed, in bitterness and disgust ; " you 
 are a father, and would sell both your daughter and your hon- 
 our for a title, and to the filthiest wretch in the kingdom ? " 
 
 Without bestowing upon him another look, I turned on my 
 heel and left the room. I had set my foot on the stair, when 
 I heard the rustle of a dress, and the low voice which I knew 
 so well calling my name. 
 
 " Richard." 
 
 There at my side was Dorothy, even taller in her paleness, 
 with sorrow and agitation in her blue eyes. 
 
 "Richard, I have heard all. — I listened. Are you going 
 away without a word for me?" Her breath came fast, and 
 mine, as she laid a hand upon my arm. " Richard, I do not 
 care whether you are poor. What am I saying?" she cried 
 wildly. " Am I false to my own father ? Richard, what have 
 you done ? " 
 
 And then, while I stood dazed, she tore open her gown, and 
 drawing forth a little gold locket, pressed it in my palm. 
 "The flowers you gave me on your birthday, — the lilies of 
 the valley, do you remember? They are here, Richard. I 
 have worn them upon my heart ever since." 
 
 I raised the locket to my lips. 
 
 " I shall treasure it for your sake, Dorothy," I said, " for the 
 sake of the old days. God keep you ! " 
 
 For a moment I looked into the depths of her eyes. Then 
 she was gone, and I went down the stairs alone. Outside, the 
 rain fell unheeded on my new coat. My steps bent southward,
 
 388 EICHAKD CAEVEL 
 
 past Whiteliall, wliere the martyr Charles had met death so 
 nobly : past the stairs to the river, where she had tripped with 
 me so gayly not a month since. Death was in my soul that 
 day, — death and love, which is the mystery of life. God 
 guided me into the great Abbey near by, where I fell on my 
 knees before Him and before England's dead. He had raised 
 them and cast them down, even as He was casting me, that I 
 might come to know the glory of His holy name.
 
 CHAPTER XLII 
 
 MY FRIENDS ARE PROVEN 
 
 At the door of my lodgings I was confronted by Banks, red 
 with indignation and fidgety from uneasiness. 
 
 " Lord, Mr. Carvel, what has happened, sir ? " he cried. 
 "Your honour's agent 'as been here since noon. Must I take 
 orders from the likes o' him, sir ? " 
 
 Mr. Dix was indeed in possession of my rooms, lounging in 
 the chair Dolly had chosen, smoking my tobacco. I stared at 
 him from the threshold. Something in my appearance, or 
 force of habit, or both brought him to his feet, and wiped away 
 the smirk from his face. He put down the pipe guiltily. I 
 told him shortly that I had heard the news which he must 
 have got by the packet : and that he should have his money, 
 tho' it took the rest of my life : and the ten per cent I had 
 promised him provided he would not press my Lord Comyn. 
 He hesitated, and drummed on the table. He was the man of 
 business again. 
 
 " What security am I to have, Mr. Carvel ? " he asked. 
 
 " My word," I said. " It has never yet been broken, I thank 
 God, nor my father's before me. And hark ye, Mr. Dix, you 
 shall not be able to say that of Grafton." Truly I thought the 
 principal and agent were now well matched. 
 
 " Very good, Mr. Carvel," he said ; " ten per cent. I shall 
 call with the papers on Monday morning." 
 
 " I shall not run away before that," I replied. 
 
 He got out, with a poor attempt at a swagger, wiluout his 
 customary protestations of duty and humble offers of service. 
 And I thanked Heaven he had not mads a scene, which in my 
 
 389
 
 390 EICHAED CARVEL 
 
 state of mind I could not have borne, but must have laid hands 
 upon him. Perhaps he believed Grafton not yet secure in his 
 title. I did not wonder then, in the heat of my youth, that he 
 should have accepted my honour as security. But since I have 
 marvelled not a little at this. The fine gentlemen at Brooks's 
 with whom I had been associating were none too scrupulous, and 
 regarded money-lenders as legitimate prey. Debts of honour 
 they paid but tardily, if at all. A certain nobleman had been 
 owing my Lord Carlisle thirteen thousand pounds for a couple 
 of years, that his Lordship had won at hazard. And tho' I blush 
 to write it, Mr. Fox himself was notorious in such matters, and 
 was in debt to each of the coterie of fashionables of which he 
 was the devoted chief. 
 
 The faithful Banks vowed, with tears in his eyes, that he 
 would never desert me. And in that moment of dejection the 
 poor fellow's devotion brought me no little comfort. At such 
 times the heart is bitter. We look askance at our friends, and 
 make the task of comfort doubly hard for those that remain 
 true. I had a great affection for the man, and had become so 
 used to his ways and unwear3iing service that I had not the 
 courage to refuse his prayers to go with me to America. I had 
 not a farthing of my own — he would serve me for nothing — 
 nay, work for me. " Sure," he said, taking off my coat and 
 bringing me my gown, — " Sure, your honour was not made to 
 work." To cheer me he went on with some foolish footman's 
 gossip that there lacked not ladies with jointures who would 
 marry me, and be thankful. I smiled sadly. 
 
 " That was when I was Mr. Carvel's heir. Banks." 
 " And your face and figure, sir, and masterful ways ! Faith, 
 and what more would a lady want ! " Banks's notions of 
 morality were vague enough, and he would have had me sink 
 what I had left at hazard at Almack's. He had lived in this 
 atmosphere. Alas ! there was little chance of my ever regain- 
 ing the position I had held but yesterday. I tli ought of the 
 sponging-house, and my brow was moist. England was no 
 place, in those days, for fallen gentlemen. With us in the 
 Colonies the law offered itself. Mr. Swain, and other barris- 
 ters of Annapolis, came to my mind, for God had given me
 
 MY FRIENDS ARE PROVEN 391 
 
 courage. I would try the law. For I had small hopes of 
 defeating my Uncle Grafton. 
 
 The Sunday morning dawned brightly, and the church bells 
 ringing brought me to my feet, and out into Piccadilly, in the 
 forlorn hope that I might see my lady on her way to morning 
 service, — see her for the last time in life, perhaps. Her locket 
 I wore over my heart. It had lain upon hers. To see her was 
 the most exquisite agony in the world. But not to see her, 
 and to feel that she was scarce quarter of a mile away, was 
 beyond endurance. I stood beside an area at the entrance to 
 Arlington Street, and waited for an hour, quite in vain ; watch- 
 ing every face that passed, townsmen in their ill-fitting Sunday 
 clothes, and fine ladies with the footmen carrying velvet prayer- 
 books. And some that I knew only stared, and others gave 
 me distant bows from their coach windows. For those that 
 fall from fashion are dead to fashion. 
 
 Dorothy did not go to church that day. 
 
 It is a pleasure, my dears, when writing of that hour of bit- 
 terness, to record the moments of sweetness which lightened 
 it. As I climbed up to my rooms in Dover Street, I heard merry 
 sounds above, and a cloud of smoke blew ©ut of the door when 
 I opened it. 
 
 " Here he is," cried Mr. Fox. " You see, Richard, we have 
 not deserted you when we can win no more of your money." 
 
 " Why, egad ! the man looks as if he had had a calamity," said 
 Mr. Fitzpatrick. • 
 
 " And there is not a Jew here," Fox continued. " Tho' it 
 is Sunday, the air in my Jerusalem chamber is as bad as in any 
 crimp's den in St. Giles's. 'Slife, and I live to be forty, I shall 
 have as many underground avenues as his Majesty Louis the 
 Eleventh." 
 
 " He must have a place," put in my Lord Carlisle. 
 
 " We must do something for him," said Fox, " albeit he is 
 an American and a Whig, and all the rest of the execrations. 
 Thou wilt have to swallow thy golden opinions, my buckskin, 
 when we put thee in office." 
 
 I was too overwhelmed even to protest. 
 
 " You are not in such a cursed bad way, when all is said,
 
 392 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 Richard," said Fitzpatrick. " Charles, when he loses a fortune, 
 immediately borrows another." 
 
 " If you stick to whist and quinze," said Charles, solemnly, 
 giving me the advice they were forever thrusting upon him, 
 "and play with system, you may make as much as four thou- 
 sand a yeai', sir." 
 
 And this was how I was treated by those heathen and cyni- 
 cal macaronies, Mr. Fox's friends. I may not say the same 
 for the whole of Brooks's Club, tho' I never darkened its doors 
 afterwards. But I encountered my Lord March that afternoon, 
 and got only a blank stare in place of a bow. 
 
 Charles had collected (Heaven knows how!) the thousand 
 pounds which he stood in my debt, and Mr. Storer and Lord 
 Carlisle offered to lend me as much as I chose. I had some 
 difficulty in refusing, and more still in denying Charles when 
 he pressed me to go with them to Richmond, where he had 
 rooms for play over Sunday. 
 
 Banks brought me the news that Lord Comyn was sitting up, 
 and had been asking for me that day ; that he was recovering 
 beyond belief. But I was resolved not to go to Brook Street 
 until the money affairs were settled on Monday with Mr. Dix, 
 for I knew well that his Lordship would insist upon carrying 
 out with the agent the contract he had so generously and hastily 
 made, rather than let me pay an abnormal interest. 
 
 On Monday I rose early, and went out for a bit of air before 
 the scene with Mr. Dix. Returning, I saw a coach with his 
 Lordship's arms on the panels, and there was Comyn himself in 
 my great chair at the window, where he had been deposited 
 by Banks and his footman. I stared as on one risen from the 
 dead. 
 
 " Why, Jack, what are you doing here ? " I cried. 
 
 He replied very offhand, as was his manner at such times : — 
 
 " Blicke vows that Chartersea and Lewis have qualified for 
 the College of Surgeons," says he. " They are both born anato- 
 mists. Your job under the arm was the worst bungle of the 
 two, egad, for Lewis put his sword, pat as you please, between 
 two of my organs (cursed if I know their names), and not so 
 much as scratched one."
 
 MY FRIENDS ARE PROVEN 393 
 
 "Look you, Jack," said I, "I am not deceived. You have 
 no right to be here, and you know it." 
 
 " Tush ! " answered his Lordship ; " I am as well as you." 
 And he took snulT to prove the assertion. " Why the devil was 
 you not in Brook Street yesterday to tell me that your uncle had 
 swindled you ? I thought I was your friend," says he, " and I 
 learn of your misfortune through others." 
 
 " It is because you are my friend, and my best friend, that I 
 would not worry you when you lay next door to death on my 
 account," I said, with emotion. 
 
 And just then Banks announced Mr. Dix. 
 
 " Let him wait," said I, greatly disturbed. 
 
 " Show him up ! " said my Lord, peremptorily. 
 
 " No, no ! " I protested ; " he can wait. We shall have no 
 business now." 
 
 But Banks was gone. And I found out, long afterward, 
 that it was put up between them. 
 
 The agent swaggered in with that easy assurance he assumed 
 whenever he got the upper hand. He was the would-be squire 
 once again, in top-boots and a frock. I have rarely seen a 
 man put out of countenance so easily as was Mr. Dix that 
 morning when he met his Lordship's fixed gaze from the 
 arm-chair. 
 
 " And so you are turned Jew ? " says he, tapping his snuff- 
 box. "Before you go ahead so fast again, you will please to 
 remember, d — n you, that Mr. Carvel is the kind that does 
 not lose his friends with his fortune." 
 
 Mr. Dix made a salaam, which was so ludicrous in a squire 
 that my Lord roared with laughter, and I feared for his wound. 
 
 "A man must live, my Lord," sputtered the agent. His 
 discomfiture was painful. 
 
 "At the expense of another," says Comyn, dryly. "That is 
 your motto in Change Alley." 
 
 "If you will permit. Jack, I must have a few words in 
 private with Mr. Dix," I cut in uneasily. 
 
 His Lordship would be damned first. " I am not accustomed 
 to be thwarted, Richard, I tell you. Ask the dowager if I 
 have not always had my way. I am not going to stand by
 
 394 KICHARD CARVEL 
 
 and see a man who saved my life fall into the clutches of an 
 usurer. Yes, I said usurer, Mr. Dix. My attorney, Mr. Ken- 
 nett, of Lincoln's Inn, has instructions to settle with you." 
 
 And, despite all I could say, he would not budge an inch. 
 At last I submitted under the threat ti 'at he would never after 
 have a word to say to me. By good luck, when I had paid 
 into Mr. Dix's hand the thousand pounds I had received from 
 Charles Fox, and cleared my outstanding bills, the sum I 
 remained in Comyn's debt was not greatly above seven hun- 
 dred pounds. And that was the end of Mr. Dix for me ; when 
 he had backed himself out in chagrin at having lost his ten 
 per centum, my feelings got the better of me. The water 
 rushed to my eyes, and I turned my back upon his Lordship. 
 To conceal his own emotions he fell to swearing like mad. 
 
 " Fox will get you something," he said at length, when he 
 was a little calmed. 
 
 I told him, sadly, that my duty took me to America. 
 
 " And Dorothy ? " he said ; " you will leave her ? " 
 
 I related the whole miserable story (all save the part of the 
 locket), for I felt that I owed it him. His excitement grew 
 as he listened, until I had to threaten to stop to keep him 
 quiet. But when I had done, he saw nothing but good to 
 come of it. 
 
 " 'Od's life ! Richard, lad, come here ! " he cried. " Give me 
 your hand. Why, you ass, you have won a thousand times 
 over what you lost. She loves you ! Did I not say so ? And 
 as for that intriguing little puppy, her father^ you have pulled 
 his teeth, egad. She heard what you said to him, you tell me. 
 Then he will never deceive her again, my word on't. And 
 Chartersea may come back to London, and be damned."
 
 CHAPTER XLIII 
 
 ANNAPOLIS ONCE MOEB 
 
 Three days after that I was at sea, in the Norfolk packet, 
 with the farewells of luy loyal English friends ringing in my 
 ears. Captain Graham, the master of the packet, and his pas- 
 sengers found me but a poor companion. But they had heard 
 of my misfortune, and vied with each other in heaping kind- 
 nesses upon me. Nor did they intrude on my walks in the 
 night watches, to see me slipping a locket from under my 
 waistcoat — ay, and raising it to my lips. 'Twas no doubt a 
 blessing that I had lesser misfortunes to share my attention. 
 God had put me in the way of looking forward rather than 
 behind, and I was sure that my friends in Annapolis would 
 help me to an honest living, and fight my cause against 
 Grafton. 
 
 Banks was with me. The devoted soul did his best to cheer 
 me, tho' downcast himself at leaving England. To know what 
 to do with him gave me many an anxious moment. I doubted 
 not that I could get him into a service, but when I spoke of 
 such a thing he burst into tears, and demanded whether I 
 meant to throw him off. Nor was any argument of mine 
 of use. 
 
 After a fair and uneventful voyage of six weeks, I beheld 
 again my native shores in the low spits of the Virginia capes. 
 The sand was very hot and white, and the waters of the Chesa- 
 peake rolled like oil under the July sun. We were all day 
 getting over to Yorktown, the ship's destination. A schooner 
 was sailing for Annapolis early the next morning, and I barely 
 had time to get off my baggage and catch her. We went up 
 the bay with a fresh wind astern, which died down at night 
 
 396
 
 396 KICHARD CARVEL 
 
 The heat was terrific after England and the sea-voyage, and 
 we slept on the deck. And Banks sat, most of the day, ex- 
 claiming at the vast scale on which this new country was laid 
 out, and wondering at the myriad islands we passed, some of 
 them fair with grain and tobacco ; and at the low-lying shores 
 clothed with forests, and broken by the salt marshes, with now 
 and then the manor-house of some gentleman-planter visible on 
 either side. Late on the second day I beheld again the cliffs 
 that mark the mouth of the Severn, then the sail-dotted roads 
 and the roofs of Annapolis. 
 
 We landed, Banks and I, in a pinnace from the schooner, 
 and so full was my heart at the sight of the old objects that 
 I could only gulp now and then, and utter never a word. 
 There was the dock where I had paced up and down near the 
 whole night, when Dolly had sailed away; and Pryse the 
 coachmaker's shop, and the little balcony upon which I had 
 stood with my grandfather, and railed in a boyish tenor at 
 Mr. Hood. The sun cast sharp, black shadows. And it being 
 the middle of the dull season, when the quality were at their 
 seats, and the dinner-hour besides, the town might have been a 
 deserted one for its stillness, as tho' the inhabitants had walked 
 out of it, and left it so. I made my way. Banks behind me, 
 into Church Street, past the "Ship" tavern, which brought 
 memories of the brawl there, and of Captain Clapsaddle forc- 
 ing the mob, like chaff, before his sword. The bees were hum- 
 ming idly over the sweet-scented gardens, and Farris, the 
 clock-maker, sat at his door, and nodded. He jerked his head 
 as I went by with a cry of " Lord, it is Mr. Richard back ! " 
 and I must needs pause, to let him bow over my hand. 
 Farther up the street I came to mine host of the Coffee House 
 standing on his steps, with his hands behind his back. 
 
 " Mr. Claude," I said. 
 
 He looked at me as tho' I had risen from the dead. 
 
 " God save us ! " he shouted, in a voice that echoed through 
 the narrow street. " God save us ! " 
 
 He seemed to go all to pieces. To my bated questions he 
 replied at length, when he had got his breath, that Captain 
 Clapsaddle had come to town but the day before, and was even
 
 a:nkapolis once more 397 
 
 then in the coffee-room at his dinner. Alone ? Yes, alone 
 Almost tottering, I mounted the steps, and turned in at the 
 coffee-room door, and stopped. There sat the captain at a 
 table, the roast and wine untouched before him, his waistcoat 
 thrown open. He was staring out of the open window into the 
 inn garden beyond, with its shade of cherry trees. Mr. Claude's 
 cry had not disturbed his reveries, nor our talk after it. I went 
 forward. I touched him on the shouLder, and he sprang up 
 and looked once into my face, and by some trick of the mind 
 uttered the very words Mr. Claude had used. 
 
 " God save us ! Richard ! " And he opened his arms and 
 strained me to his great chest, calling my name again and 
 again, while the tears coursed down the furrows of his cheeks. 
 For I marked the furrows for the first time, and the wrinkles 
 settling in his forehead and around his eyes. What he said 
 when he released me, nor my replies, can I remember now, but 
 at last he called, in his ringing voice, to mine host : — 
 
 "A bottle from your choicest bin, Claude! Some of Mr. 
 Bordley's. For he that was lost is found." 
 
 The hundred questions I had longed to ask were forgotten. 
 A peace stole upon me that I had not felt since I had looked 
 upon his face before. The wine was brought by Mr. Claude, 
 and opened, and it was mine host who broke the silence, and 
 the spell. 
 
 " Your very good health, Mr. Richard," he said ; " and may 
 you come to your own again ! " 
 
 "I drink it with all my heart, Richard," replied Captain 
 Daniel. But he glanced at me sadly, and his honest nature 
 could put no hope into his tone. " We have got him back 
 again, Mr. Claude. And God has answered our prayers. So 
 let us be thankful." And he sat down in silence, gazing at me 
 in pity and tenderness, while Mr. Claude withdrew. " I can 
 give you but a sad welcome home, my lad," he said presently, 
 with a hesitation strange to him. "'Tis not the first bad news 
 I have had to break in my life to your family, but I pray it 
 may be the last." He paused. I knew he was thinking of 
 the black tidings he had once brought my mother. "Richard, 
 your grandfather is dead," he ended abruptly.
 
 398 EICHARD CARVEL 
 
 I nodded wonderingly. 
 
 " What ! " he exclaimed ; " you have heard already ? " 
 
 " Mr. Manners told me, in London," I said, completely mys 
 tified. 
 
 " London ! " he cried, starting forward. " London and Mi 
 Manners ! Have you been to London ? " 
 
 " You had my letters to Mr. Carvel ? " I demanded, turning 
 suddenly sick. 
 
 His eye flashed. 
 
 " Never a letter. We mourned you for dead, Richard. This 
 is Grafton's work ! " he cried, springing to his feet and striking 
 the table with his great fist, so that the dishes jumped. " Graf- 
 ton Carvel, the prettiest villain in these thirteen colonies ! Oh, 
 we shall hang him some day." 
 
 "Then Mr. Carvel died without knowing that I was safe?" 
 X interrupted. 
 
 "On that I'll lay all my worldly goods," replied Captain 
 Daniel, emphatically. " If any letters came to Marlboro' Street 
 from you, Mr. Carvel never dropped eyes on 'em." 
 
 " What a fool was I not to have written you ! " I groaned. 
 
 He drew his chair around the table, and close to mine. 
 
 " Had the news that you escaped death been cried aloud in 
 the streets, my lad, 'twould never have got to your grand- 
 father's ear," he said, in lower tones. " I will tell you what 
 happened, tho' I have it at second hand, being in the North, as 
 you may remember. Grafton came in from Kent and invested 
 Marlboro' Street. He himself broke the news to Mr. Carvel, 
 who took to his bed. Leiden was not in attendance, you may 
 be sure, but that quack-doctor Drake. Swain sent me a mes- 
 sage, and I killed a horse getting here from New York. But I 
 could no more gain admittance to your grandfather, Richard, 
 than to King George the Third. I was met in the hall by that 
 crocodile, who told me with too many fair words that I could 
 not see my old friend ; that for the present Dr. Drake denied 
 him everybody. Then I damneu Dr. Drake, and Grafton too. 
 And I let him know my suspicions. He ordered me off, Rich- 
 ard — from that house which has been my only home for these 
 twenty years." His voice broke.
 
 ANNAPOLIS ONCE MORE 399 
 
 ''Mr. Carvel thought me dead, then." 
 
 "And most mercifully. Your black Hugo, when he was 
 somewhat recovered, swore he had seen you killed and carried 
 otf. Sooth, they say there was blood enough on the place. 
 But we spared no pains to obtain a clew of you. I went north 
 to Boston, and Lloyd's factor south to Charleston. But no 
 trace of the messenger who came to the Coffee House after 
 you could we find. Hell had opened and swallowed him. And 
 mark this for consummate villany : Grafton himself spent no 
 less than five hundred pounds in advertising and the like." 
 
 " And he is not suspected ?" 1 asked. This was the same 
 question I had put to Mrs. Manners. It caused the captain 
 to flare up again. 
 
 " 'Tis incredible how a rogue may impose upon men of worth 
 and integrity if he but know how to smirk piously, and never 
 miss a service. And then he is an exceeding rich man 
 Riches cover a multitude of sins in the most virtuous com- 
 munity in the world. Your Aunt Caroline brought him a 
 pretty fortune, you know. We had ominous times this spring, 
 with the associations forming, and the Good Intent and the 
 rest being sent back to England. His Excellency was at his 
 wits' end for support. It was Grafton Carvel who helped him 
 most, and spent money like tobacco for the King's cause, 
 which, being interpreted, was for his own advancement. But 
 1 believe Colonel Lloyd suspects him, tho' he has never said 
 as much to me. I have told Mr. Swain, under secrecy, what I 
 think. He is one of the ablest lawyers that the colony owns, 
 Richard, and a stanch friend of yours. He took your case 
 of his own accord. But he says we have no foothold as yet." 
 
 When I asked if there was a will the captain rapped out 
 an oath. 
 
 " 'Sdeath ! yes," he cried, " a will in favour of Grafton and 
 his heirs, witnessed by Dr. Drake, they say, and another 
 scoundrel. Your name does not occur throughout tflie length 
 and breadth of it. You were dead. But you will have to 
 ask Mr. Swain for those particulars. My dear old friend was 
 sadly gone when he wrote it, I fear. For he never lacked 
 shrewdness in his best days. Nor," added Captain Daniel.
 
 400 RICHAKD CARVEL 
 
 with force, "nor did lie want for a proper estimation of 
 Grafton." 
 
 "He has never been the same since that first sickness," 1 
 answered sadly. 
 
 When the captain came to speak of Mr. Carvel's death, 
 the son and daughter he loved, and the child of his old age in 
 the grave before him, he proceeded brokenly, and the tears 
 blinded him. Mr. Carvel's last words will never be known, 
 my dears. They sounded in the unfeeling ears of the serpent 
 Grafton. 'Twas said that he was seen coming out of his 
 father's house an hour after the demise, a smile on his face 
 which he strove to hide with a pucker of sorrow. But by 
 God's grace Mr. Allen had not read the prayers. The rector 
 was at last removed from Annapolis, and had obtained the fat 
 living of Frederick which he coveted. 
 
 " As I hope for salvation," the captain concluded, " I will 
 swear there is not such another villain in the world as Graf- 
 ton. The imagination of a fiend alone could have conceived 
 and brought to execution the crime he has committed. And 
 the Borgias were children to him. 'Twas not only the love of 
 money that urged him, but hatred of you and of your father. 
 That was his strongest motive, I believe. However, the days 
 are coming, lad, when he shall have his reward, unless all 
 signs fail. And we have had enough of sober talk," said he, 
 pressing me to eat. " Faith, but just now, when you came in, 
 I was thinking of you, Richard. And — God forgive me ! — 
 complaining against the lot of my life. And thinking, now 
 that you were taken out of it, and your father and mother and 
 grandfather gone, how little I had to live for. Now you are 
 home again," says he, his eyes lighting on me with affection, 
 " I count the gray hairs as nothing. Let us have your story, 
 and be merry. Nay, I might have guessed you had been in 
 London, with your fine clothes and your English servant." 
 
 'Twas a long story, as you know, my dears. He lighted his 
 pipe and laid his big hand over mine, and filled my glass, and 
 I told him most of that which had happened to me. But I left 
 out the whole of that concerning Mr. Manners and the Duke 
 of Chartersea, nor did I speak of the sponging-housp T
 
 ANNAPOLIS ONCE MORE 401 
 
 believe my only motive for this omittance was a reluctance to 
 dwell upon Dorothy, and a desire to shield her father for her 
 sake. He dropped many a vigorous exclamation into my 
 pauses, but when I came to speak of my friendship with Mr. 
 Fox, his brow clouded over. 
 
 " 'Ad's heart ! " he cried, " 'Ad's heart ! And so you are 
 turned Tory, and have at last been perverted from those princi- 
 ples for which I loved you most. In the old days my conscience 
 would not allow me to advise you, Richard, and now that I am 
 free to speak, you are past advice." 
 
 I laughed aloud. 
 
 " And what if I tell you that I made friends with his Grace 
 of Grafton, and Lord Sandwich, and was invited to Hichin- 
 broke, his Lordship's seat ? " said I. 
 
 His honest face was a picture of consternation. 
 
 " Now the good Lord deliver us ! " he exclaimed fervently. 
 « Sandwich ! Grafton ! The devil ! " 
 
 I gave myself over to the first real merriment I had had since 
 I had heard of Mr. Carvel's death. 
 
 " And when Mr. Fox learned that I had lost my fortune," I 
 went on, "he offered me a position under Government." 
 
 " Have you not friends enough at home to care for you, sir ? " 
 he said, his face getting purple. " Are you Jack Carvel's son, 
 or are you an impostor ? " 
 
 "I am Jack Carvel's son, dear Captain Daniel, and that is 
 why I am here," I replied. " I am a stouter Whig than ever, 
 and I believe I might have converted Mr. Fox himself had I 
 remained at home sufficiently long," I added, with a solemn 
 face. And, for my own edification, I related how I had bearded 
 his Majesty's friends at Brooks's, whereat he gave a great, joy- 
 ful laugh, and thumped me on the back. 
 
 " You dog, Richard ! You sly rogue ! " And he called to Mr. 
 Claude for another bottle on the strength of that, and we 
 pledged the Association. He peppered me with questions con- 
 cerning Jimius, and Mr. Wilkes, and Mr. Franklin of Phila- 
 delphia. Had I seen him in London ? "I would not doubt a 
 Carvel's word," says the captain, " (always excepting Grafton 
 
 and his line, as usual), but you may duck me on the stool and 
 " »^
 
 402 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 I compreliend why Mr. Fox and his friends took up witli such 
 a young rebel rapscallion as you — and after the speech you 
 made 'em." 
 
 I astonished him vastly by pointing out that Mr. Fox and 
 his friends cared a deal for place, and not a fig for principle ; 
 that my frankness had entertained rather than offended them ; 
 and that, having a taste for a bit of wild life and the money to 
 gratify it, and being of a tolerant, easy nature withal, I had 
 contrived to make many friends in that set, without aiming at 
 influence. Whereat he gave me another lick between the 
 shoulders. 
 
 "It was so with Jack," he cried; "thou art a replica. He 
 would have made friends with the devil himself. In the 
 French v/ar, when all the rest of us Royal Americans were 
 squabbling with his Majesty's officers out of England, and curs- 
 ing them at mess, they could never be got to fight with Jack, tho' 
 he gave them ample provocation. There was Tetherington, of 
 the 22d foot, — who jeered us for damned provincials, and swag- 
 gered through three duels in a week, — would enter no quarrel 
 with him. I can hear him say : ' Damn you. Carvel, you may 
 slap my face and you will, or walk in ahead of me at the gen- 
 eral's dinner and you will, but I like you too well to draw at 
 you. I would not miss your company at table for all the 
 world.' And when he was killed," Captain Daniel continued, 
 lowering his voice, "some of them cried like women, — 
 Tetherington among 'em, — and swore they would rather have 
 lost their commissions at high play." 
 
 We sat talking until the summer's dusk grew on apace, and 
 one thing cliis devoted lover of my family told me, which 
 lightened my spirits of the greatest burden that had rested 
 upon them since my calamity befell me. I had dwelt at length 
 upon my Lord Comyn, and upon the weight of his services to 
 me, and touched upon the sum which I stood in his debt. The 
 captain interrupted me. 
 
 " One day, before your mother died, she sent for me," said 
 he, "and I came to Carvel Hall. You were too young to re- 
 member. It was in September, and she was sitting on the 
 seat under the oak she loved so v/ell, — by Dr. Hilliard's study.
 
 ANNAPOLIS ONCE MORE 403 
 
 The lace shawl your father had given her was around her 
 shoulders, and upon her face was the smile that gave me a 
 pang to see. For it had something of heaven in it, Richard. 
 She called me ' Daniel ' then for the second time in her life. 
 She bade me be seated beside her. ' Daniel,' she said, * when 
 I am gone, and father is gone, it is you who will take care of 
 Richard. I sometimes believe all may not be well then, and 
 that he will need you.' I knew she was thinking of Grafton," 
 said the captain. " ' I have a little money of my own, Daniel, 
 which I have saved lately with this in view. I give it into 
 your charge, and if trouble comes to him, my old friend, you 
 will use it as you see lit.' 
 
 " It was a bit under a thousand pounds, Richard. And 
 when she died I put it out under Mr. Carroll's direction at safe 
 interest. So that you have enough to discharge your debt, and 
 something saved against another emergency." 
 
 He fell silent, sunk into one of those reveries which the 
 memory of my mother awoke in him. My own thoughts 
 drifted across the sea. I was again at the top of the stairs in 
 Arlington Street, and feeling the dearest presence in the world. 
 The pale oval of Dorothy's face rose before me and the troubled 
 depths of her blue eyes. And I heard once more the tremble 
 in her voice as she confessed, in words of which she took no 
 heed, that love for which I had sought in vain. 
 
 The summer dusk was gathering. Outside, under the cherry 
 trees, I saw Banks holding forth to an admiring circle of negro 
 'ostlers. And presently Mr. Claude came in to say that Shaw, 
 the town carpenter, and Sol Mogg, the ancient sexton of St. 
 Anne's, and several more of my old acquaintances were without, 
 and begged the honour of greeting me.
 
 CHAPTER XLIV 
 
 NOBLESSE OBLIGE 
 
 I LAY that niglit in Captain Clapsaddle's lodgings opposite, 
 and slept soundly. Banks was on hand in the morning to 
 assist at my toilet, and was greatly downcast when I refused 
 him this privilege, for the first time. Captain Daniel was 
 highly pleased with the honest fellow's devotion in following 
 me to America. To cheer him he began to question him as to my 
 doings in London, and the first thing of which Banks must tell 
 was of the riding-contest in Hyde Park, which I had omitted. 
 It is easy to imagine how this should have tickled the captain, 
 who always had my horsemanship at heart; and when it came 
 to Chartersea's descent into the Serpentine, I thought he 
 would go into apoplexy. For he had put on flesh with the 
 years. 
 
 The news of my return had spread all over town, so that I 
 had a deal more handshaking to do when we went to the 
 Coffee House for breakfast. All the quality were in the 
 country, of course, save only four gentlemen of the local 
 Patriots' committee, of which Captain Daniel was a member, 
 and with whom he had an appointment at ten. It was Mr. 
 Swain who arrived first of the four. 
 
 This old friend of my childhood was a quiet man (I may not 
 have specified), thin, and a little under stature, with a reced- 
 ing but thoughtful forehead. But he could express as much 
 of joy and welcome in his face and manner* as could Captain 
 Daniel with his heartier ways. 
 
 "It does me good to see you, lad," he said, pressing my 
 hand. "I heard you were home, and sent off an express to 
 Patty and the mother last night." 
 
 404
 
 NOBLESSE OBLIGE 405 
 
 " And are they not here ? " I asked, with disappointment. 
 
 Mr. Swain smiled. 
 
 " I have done a rash thing since I saw you, Richard, and 
 bought a little plantation in Talbot, next to Singleton's. It 
 will be my ruin," he added. " A lawyer has no business with 
 landed ambitions." 
 
 " A little plantation ! " echoed the captain. " 'Od's life, he 
 has bought one of his Lordship's own manors — as good an 
 estate as there is in the province." 
 
 " You overdo it, Daniel," said he, reprovingly. 
 
 At that moment there was a stir in the doorway, and in 
 came Mr. Carroll, the barrister, and Mr. Bordley and Colonel 
 Lloyd. These gentlemen gave me such a welcome as those 
 warm-hearted planters and lawyers knew how to bestow. 
 
 "What, ho!" cried Mr. Lloyd, <'I'm stamped and taxed if 
 it isn't young Richard Carvel himself. Well," says he, "I 
 know one who will sleep easier o' nights now, — one Clapsaddle. 
 The gray hairs are forgot, Daniel. We had more to-do over 
 your disappearance than when Mr. Worthington lost his 
 musical nigger. Where a deuce have you been, sir ? " 
 
 •< He shall tell us when we come back," said Mr. Bordley. 
 " He has brought our worthy association to a standstill once, 
 and now we must proceed about our business. Will you come, 
 Richard? I believe you have proved yourself a sufficiently 
 good patriot, and in this very house." 
 
 We went down Church Street, I walking behind with Colo- 
 nel Lloyd, and so proud to be in such company that I cared 
 not a groat whether Grafton had my acres or not. I remem- 
 bered that the committee all wore plain and sober clothes, and 
 carried no swords. Mr. Swain alone had a wig. I had been 
 away but seven months, and yet here was a perceptible change. 
 In these dignified and determined gentlemen England had 
 more to fear than in all the mobs at Mr. Wilkes's back. How 
 I wished that Charles Fox might have been with me. 
 
 The sun beat down upon the street. The shopkeepers were 
 gathered at their doors, but their chattering was hushed as 
 the dreaded committee passed. More than one, apparently, 
 had tasted of its discipline. Colonel Lloyd whispered to me
 
 406 RICHAKD CARVEL 
 
 to keep my countenance, that they were not after very large 
 game that morning, — only Chipchase, the butcher. And 
 presently we came uj)on the rascal putting up his shutters in 
 much precipitation, although it was noon. He had shed his 
 blood-stained smock and breeches, and donned his Sunday best, 
 — a white, thick-set coat, country cloth jacket, blue broadcloth 
 breeches, and white shirt. A grizzled cut wig sat somewhat 
 awry under his bearskin hat. When he perceived Mr. Carroll 
 at his shoulder, he dropped his shutter against the wall, and 
 began bowing frantically. 
 
 " You keep good hours, Master Chipchase," remarked Colo- 
 nel Lloyd. 
 
 '' And lose good customers," Mr. Swain added laconically. 
 
 The butcher wriggled. 
 
 " Your honours must know there be little selling when the 
 gentry be out of town. And I was to take a holiday to-day, to 
 see my daughter married." 
 
 "You will have a feast, my good man?" Captain Daniel 
 asked. 
 
 " To be sure, your honour, a feast." 
 
 " And any little ewe-lambs ? " says Mr. Bordley, very 
 innocent. 
 
 Master Chipchase turned the colour of his meat, and his wit 
 failed him. 
 
 " ' Fourthly,' " recited Mr. Carroll, with an exceeding sober 
 face, "■ ' Fourthly, that we will not kill, or suffer to be killed, or 
 sell, or dispose to any person whom we have reason to believe 
 intends to kill, any ewe-lamb that shall be weaned before the 
 first day of May, in any year during the time aforesaid.' Have 
 you ever heard anything of that sound, Mr. Chipchase ? " 
 
 Mr. Chipchase had. And if their honours pleased, he had a 
 defence to make, if their honours would but listen. And if 
 their honours but knew, he was as good a patriot as any in the 
 province, and sold his wool to Peter Psalter, and he wore the 
 homespun in winter. Then Mr. Carroll drew a paper from his 
 pocket, and began to read : " Mr. Thomas Hincks, personally 
 known to me, deposeth and saith, — " 
 
 Master Chipchase's knees gave from under him
 
 NOBLESSE OBLIGE 407 
 
 " And your honours please," he cried piteously, " I killed 
 the lamb, but 'twas at Mr. Grafton Carvel's order, who was in 
 town with his Excellency." (Here Mr. Swain and the captain 
 glanced significantly at me.) " And I lose Mr. Carvel's cus- 
 tom, there is twelve pounds odd gone a year, your honours. 
 And I am a poor man, sirs." 
 
 " Who is it owns your shop, my man ? " asks Mr. Bordley, 
 very sternly. 
 
 " Oh, I beg your honours will not have me put out — " 
 
 The wailing of his voice had drawn a crowd of idlers and 
 brother shopkeepers, who seemed vastly to enjoy the knave's 
 discomfiture. Amongst them I recognized my old acquaint- 
 ance. Weld, now a rival butcher. He pushed forward boldly. 
 
 " And your honours please," said he, " he has sold lamb to 
 half the Tory, gentry in Annapolis." 
 
 " A lie ! " cried Chipchase ; " a lie, as God hears me ! " 
 
 Now Captain Clapsaddle was one who carried his loves and 
 his hatreds to the grave, and he had never liked Weld since 
 the day, six years gone by, he had sent me into the Ship 
 tavern. And when Weld heard the captain's voice he slunk 
 away without a word. 
 
 " Have a care. Master Weld," says he, in a quiet tone that 
 boded no good ; " there is more evidence against you than you 
 will like." 
 
 Master Chipchase, after being frightened almost out of his 
 senses, was pardoned this once by Captain Daniel's influence. 
 We went thence to Mr. Hildreth's shop ; he was suspected of 
 having got tea out of a South River snow ; then to Mr. Jack- 
 son's ; and so on. 'Twas after two when we got back to the 
 Coffee House, and sat down to as good a dinner as Mr. Claude 
 could prepare. " And now," cried Colonel Lloyd, " we shall 
 have your adventures, Sichard. I would that your uncle were 
 here to listen to them," he added dryly. 
 
 I recited them very much as I had done the night before, 
 and I warrant you, my dears, that they listened with more 
 zest and eagerness than did Mr. Walpole. But they were all 
 shrewd men, and kept their suspicions, if they had any, to them- 
 selves. Captain Daniel would have me omit nothing, — my
 
 408 EICHARD CARVEL 
 
 intimacy with Mr. Fox, the speech at Brooks's Club, and the 
 riding-match at Hyde Park. 
 
 " What say you to that, gentlemen ? " he cried. " Egad, I'll 
 be sworn he deserves credit, — an arrant young spark out of 
 the Colonies, scarce turned nineteen, defeating a duke of the 
 realm on horseback, and preaching the gospel of ' no taxation ' 
 at Brooks's Club ! Nor the favour of Sandwich or March 
 could turn him from his principles." 
 
 Modesty, my dears, does not permit me to picture the enthu- 
 siasm of these good gentlemen, who bore the responsibility of 
 the colony of Maryland upon their shoulders. They made 
 more of me than I deserved. In vain did I seek to explain 
 that if a yoimg man was but well-born, and had a full purse 
 and a turn for high play, his principles might go hang, 
 for all Mr. Fox cared. Colonel Lloyd commanded that the 
 famous rose punch-bowl be filled to the brim with Mr. Claude's 
 best summer brew, and they drank my health and my grand- 
 father's memory. It mattered little to them that I was 
 poor. They vowed I should not lose by my choice. Mr. 
 Bordley offered me a home, and added that I should have em- 
 ployment enough in the days to come. Mr. Carroll pressed me 
 likewise. And big-hearted Colonel Lloyd desired to send me 
 to King's College, as was my grandfather's wish, where Will 
 Fotheringay and my cousin Philip had been for a term. I might 
 make a barrister of myself. Mr. Swain alone was silent and 
 thoughtful, but I did not for an instant doubt that he would 
 have done as much for me. 
 
 Before we broke up for the evening the gentlemen plied me 
 with questions concerning the state of affairs in England, and 
 the temper of his Majesty and Parliament. I say without 
 vanity that I was able to enlighten them not a little, for I had 
 learned a deeper lesson from the set into which I had fallen in 
 London than if I had become the confidant of Rockingham him- 
 self. America was a long way from England in those days. I 
 regretted that I had not arrived in London in time to witness 
 Lord Chatham's dramatic return to politics in January, when 
 he had completed the work of Junius, and broken up the Graf- 
 ton ministry. But I told them of the debate I had heard in
 
 NOBLESSE OBLIGE 409 
 
 St. Stephen's, and made them laugh over Mr. Eox's rescue of 
 the King's friends, and the hustling of Mr. Burke from the 
 Lords. 
 
 They were very curious, too, about Mr. INIanners ; and I was 
 put to much ingenuity to answer their queries and not reveal 
 my own connection with him. They wished to know if it 
 were true that some nobleman had flung a bottle at his 
 head in a rage because Dorothy would not marry him, as 
 Dr. Courtenay's letter had stated. I replied that it was so. 
 I did not add that it was the same nobleman who had been 
 pitched into the Serpentine. Nor did I mention the fight 
 at Vauxhall. I made no doubt these things would come to 
 their ears, but I did not choose to be the one to tell them. Mr. 
 Swain remained after the other gentlemen, and asked me if I 
 would come with him to Gloucester Street; that he had some- 
 thing to say to me. We Avent the long way thither, and I was 
 very grateful to him for avoiding Marlboro' Street, which must 
 needs bring me painful recollections. He said little on the 
 way. 
 
 I almost expected to see Patty come tripping down from the 
 vine-covered porch with her needlework in her hand, and the 
 house seemed strangely empty without her. Mr. Swain had 
 his negro, Romney, place chairs for us under the apple tree, 
 and bring out pipes and sangaree. The air was still, and 
 heavy with the flowers' scent, and the sun was dipping behind 
 the low eaves of the house. It was so natural to be there that 
 I scarce realized all that had happened since last I saw the 
 back gate in the picket fence. Alas ! little Patty would never 
 more be smuggled through it and over the wall to Marlboro' 
 Street. Mr. Swain recalled my thoughts. 
 
 '' Captain Clapsaddle has asked me to look into this matter 
 of the will, Richard," he began abruptly. " Altho' we ■ 
 thought never to see you again, we have hoped against hope. 
 I fear you have little chance for your property, my lad." 
 
 I replied that Captain Daniel had so led me to believe, and 
 thanked him for his kindness and his trouble. 
 
 " 'Twas no trouble," he replied quickly. "■ Indeed, I wish it 
 might hare been. I shall always think of your grandfather
 
 410 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 with reverence and with sorrow. He was a noble man, and 
 was a friend to me, in spite of my politics, when other gentle- 
 men of position would not invite me to their houses. It would 
 be the greatest happiness of my life if I could restore his 
 property to you, where he would have had it go, and deprive 
 that villain, your uncle, of the fruits of his crime." 
 
 " Then there is nothing to be got by contesting the will ? " I 
 asked. 
 
 He shook his head soberly. 
 
 " I fear not at present," said he, " nor can I with honesty 
 hold out any hope to you, Richard. Your uncle, by reason of 
 his wealth, is a man of undue influence with the powers of the 
 colony. Even if he were not so, I doubt greatly whether we 
 should be the gainers. The will is undoubtedly genuine. Mr. 
 Carvel thought you dead, and we cannot prove undue influence 
 by Grafton unless we also prove that it was he who caused 
 your abduction. Do you think you can prove that ? " 
 
 "There is one witness," I exclaimed, "who overheard my 
 uncle and Mr. Allen talking of South River and Griggs, the 
 master of the slaver, in the stables at Carvel Hall." 
 
 " And who is that ? " demanded Mr. Swain, with more ex- 
 citement than I believed him capable of. 
 
 " Old Harvey." 
 
 " Your grandfather's coachman ? Alas, he died the day 
 after Mr. Carvel, and was buried the same afternoon. Have 
 you spoken of this ? " 
 
 " Not to a soul," said I. 
 
 " Then I would not. You will have to be very careful and 
 say nothing, Richard. Let me hear what other reasons you 
 have for believing that your uncle tried to do away with 
 you." 
 
 I told him, lucidly as possible, everything I have related in 
 these pages, and the admission of Griggs. He listened in- 
 tently, shaking his head now and then, but not a word out of 
 him. 
 
 " No," he said at length, " nothing is there which will be ad- 
 mitted, but enough to damn him if you yourself might be a 
 witness. I will give you the law, briefly : descendible estates
 
 NOBLESSE OBLIGE 411 
 
 among us are of two kinds, estates in fee simple and estates in 
 fee tail. Had your grandfather died without a will, his estate, 
 which we suppose to be in fee simple, would have descended to 
 you as the son of his eldest son, according to the fourth of the 
 canons of descent in Blackstone. But with us fee simple estates 
 are devisable, and Mr. Carvel was wholly within his right in 
 cutting off the line of his eldest son. Do you follow me ? " 
 
 I nodded. 
 
 *' There is one chance," he continued, "and that is a very 
 slim one. I said that Mr. Carvel's estate was supposed to be 
 in fee simple. Estates tail are not devisable. Our system of 
 registration is far from infallible, and sometimes an old family 
 settlement turns up to prove that a property which has been 
 willed out of the direct line, as in fee simple, is in reality en- 
 tailed. Is there a possibility of any such document ? " 
 
 I replied that I did not know. My grandfather had never 
 brought up the subject. 
 
 " We must bend our efforts in that direction," said the bar- 
 rister. " I shall have my clerks make a systematic search." 
 
 He ceased talking, and sat sipping his sangaree in the ab- 
 stracted manner common to him. I took the opportunity to 
 ask about his family, thinking about what Dolly had said of 
 Patty's illness. 
 
 " The mother is as well as can be expected, Richard, and 
 Patty very rosy with the country air. Your disappearance 
 was a great shock to them both." 
 
 " And Tom ? " 
 
 He went behind his reserve. "Tom is a d^;— d rake," he 
 exclaimed, with some vehemence. "I have given him over. 
 He has taken up with that macaroni Courtenay, who wins his 
 money, — or rather my money, — and your cousin Philip, when 
 he is home from King's College. How Tom can be son of mine 
 is beyond me, in faith. I see him about once in two months, 
 when he comes here with a bill for his satins and his ruffles, 
 and a long face of repentance, and a lot of gaming debts to 
 involve my honour. And that reminds me, Richard," said he, 
 looking straight at me with his clear, dark eyes : " have you 
 made any plans for your future ? "
 
 412 EICHARD CARVEL 
 
 I ventured to ask his advice as to entering the law. 
 
 " As the only profession open to a gentleman," he replied, 
 smiling a little. " No, you were no more cut out for an attor- 
 ney, or a barrister, or a judge, than was I for a macaroni doc- 
 tor. The time is not far away, my lad," he went on, seeing 
 my shame and confusion, " when an American may amass 
 money in any way he chooses, and still be a gentleman, — 
 behind a counter, if he will." 
 
 "I do not fear work, Mr. Swain," I remarked, with some 
 pride. 
 
 " That is what I have been thinking," he said shortly. 
 " And I am not a man to make up m}'- mind while you count 
 three, Richard. I have the place in Talbot, and no one to 
 look after it. And — and in short I think you are the man." 
 
 He paused to watch the effect of this upon me. But I was 
 so taken aback by this new act of kindness that I could not 
 say a word. 
 
 " Tom is fast going to the devil, as I told you," he continued. 
 " He cannot be trusted. If I die, that estate shall be Patty's, 
 and he may never squander it. Captain Daniel tells me, and 
 Mr. Bordley also, that you managed at Carvel Hall with sense 
 and ability. I know you are very young," but I think I may 
 rely upon you." 
 
 Again he hesitated, eying me fixedly. 
 
 " Ah," said he, with his quiet smile, " it is the old noblesse 
 oblige. How many careers has it ruined since the world 
 began ! "
 
 CHAPTER XLV 
 
 THE HOUSE OF MEMORIES 
 
 I WAS greatly touched, and made Mr. Swain many awkward 
 acknowledgments, which he mercifully cut short. I asked 
 him for a while to think over his offer. This seemed to please 
 rather than displease him. And my first impulse on reaching 
 the inn was to ask the captain's advice. I thought better of it 
 however, and at length resolved to thrash out the matter for 
 myself. 
 
 The next morning, as I sat reflecting, an overwhelming de- 
 sire seized me to go to Marlboro' Street. Hitherto I could not 
 have borne the sight of the old place. I gulped down my 
 emotion as the gate creaked behind me, and made my way 
 slowly to the white seat under the big chestnut behind the 
 house, where my grandfather had been wont to sit reading his 
 prints, in the warm weather. The flowers and the hedges had 
 grown to a certain wildness ; and the smell of the American 
 roses carried me back — as odours will — ^to long-forgotten 
 and trivial scenes. Here I had been caned many a day for 
 Mr, Daaken's reports, and for earlier offences. And I recalled 
 my mother as she once ran out at the sound of my cries to beg 
 me off. So vivid was that picture that I could hear Mr. Carvel 
 say : " He is yours, madam, not mine. Take him ! " 
 
 I started up. The house was still, the sun blistering the 
 green paint of the shutters. My eye was caught by those on 
 the room that had been hers, and which, by my grandfather's 
 decree, had lain closed since she left it. The image of it grew 
 in my mind : the mahogany bed with its poppy counterpane 
 and creamy curtains, and the steps at the side by which she 
 was wont to enter it ; and the prie-dieii, whence her soul had 
 
 413
 
 414 EICHARD CAEVEL 
 
 been lifted up to God. And the dresser with her china and 
 silver upon it, covered by years of dust. For I had once stolen 
 the key from Willis's bunch, crept in, and crept out again, awed. 
 That chamber would be profaned, now, and those dear orna- 
 ments, which were mine, violated. The imagination choked me. 
 
 I would have them. I must. Nothing easier than to pry 
 X)pen a door or window in the north wing, by the ball-room. 
 When I saw Grafton I would tell him. Nay, I would write 
 him that day. I was even casting about me for an implement, 
 when I heard a step on the gravel beside me. 
 
 I swung around, and came face to face with my uncle. 
 
 He must have perceived me. And after the first shock of 
 my surprise had passed, I remarked a bearing on him that I 
 had not seen before. He was master of the situation at last, 
 — so it read. The realization gave him an easier speech than 
 ever. 
 
 " I thought I might find you here, Richard," he said, " since 
 you were not at the Coffee House." 
 
 He did not offer me his hand. I could only stare at him, 
 for I had expected anything but this. 
 
 " I came from Carvel Hall to get you," he proceeded smoothly 
 enough. " I heard but yesterday of your return, and some of 
 your miraculous adventures. Your recklessness has caused us 
 many a trying day, Richard, and I believe killed your grand- 
 father. You have paid dearly, and have made us pay dearly, 
 for your mad frolic of fighting cut-throats on the highroad." 
 
 The wonder was that I did not kill him on the spot. I can- 
 not think what possessed the man, — he must have known me 
 better. 
 
 " My recklessness ! " I shouted, fairly hoarse with anger. I 
 paid no heed to Mr. Swain's warning. "You d — d scoun- 
 drel!" I cried, "it was you killed him, and you know it. When 
 you had put me out of the way and he was in your power, you 
 tortured him to death. You forced him to die alone with your 
 sneering face, while your shrew of a wife counted cards down- 
 stairs. Grafton Carvel, God knows you better than I, who 
 know you too well. And He will punish you as sure as the 
 crack of doom."
 
 THE HOUSE OF MEMORIES 415 
 
 He heard me through, giving back as I came forward, his 
 face blanching only a little, and wearing all the time that yel- 
 low smile which so fitted it. 
 
 " You have finished ? " says he. 
 
 " Ay, I have finished. And now you may order me from 
 this ground you have robbed me of. But there are some things 
 in that house you shall not steal, for they are mine despite 
 you." 
 
 " Name them, Richard," he said, very sorrowful. 
 
 "The articles in my mother's room, which were hers." 
 
 " You shall have them this day," he answered. 
 
 It was his way never to lose his temper, tho' he were called 
 by the vilest name in the language. He must always assume 
 this pious grief which made me long to throttle him. He had 
 the best of me, even now, as he took the great key from his 
 pocket. 
 
 " Will you look at them before you go ? " he asked. 
 
 At first I was for refusing. Then I nodded. He led the 
 way silently around by the front ; and after he had turned 
 the lock he stepped aside with a bow to let me pass in ahead 
 of him. Once more I was in the familiar hall with the stairs 
 dividing at the back. It was cool after the heat, and musty, 
 and a touch of death hung in the prisoned air. We paused 
 for a moinent on the landing, beside the higli, triple-arched 
 window which the branches tapped on windy winter days, 
 while Grafton took down the bunch of keys from beside the 
 clock. I thought of my dear grandfather winding it every 
 Sunday, and his ruddy face and large figure as he stood glanc- 
 ing sidewise down at me. Then the sound of Grafton's feet 
 upon the bare steps recalled the present. 
 
 We passed Mr. Carvel's room and went down the little corri- 
 dor over the ball-room, until we came to the full-storied wing. 
 My uncle flung open the window and shutters opposite and gave 
 me the key. A delicacy not foreign to him held him where he 
 was. Time had sealed the door, and when at last it gave before 
 my strength, a shower of dust quivered in the ray of sunlight 
 from the window. I entered reverently. I took only the silver- 
 bound prayer-book, cast a lingering look at the old familiar ob-
 
 416 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 jects dimly defined, and came out and locked the door again 
 I said very quietly that I would send for the things that after- 
 noon, for my anger was hushed by what I had seen. 
 
 We halted together on the uncovered porch in front of the 
 house, that had a seat set on each side of it. Marlboro' 
 Street was still, the wide trees which flanked it spreading their 
 shade over walk and roadway. Not a soul was abroad in the 
 midday heat, and the windows of the long house opposite were 
 sightless. 
 
 " Richard," said my uncle, staring ahead of him, " I came to 
 offer you a home, and you insult me brutally, as you have done 
 unreproved all your life. And yet no one shall say of me that 
 I shirk my duty. But first I must ask you if there is aught else 
 you desire of me." 
 
 '' The black boy, Hugo, is mine," I said. I had no great love 
 for Hugo, save for association's sake, and I had one too many 
 servants as it was ; but to rescue one slave from Grafton's 
 clutches was charity. 
 
 "You shall have him," he replied, "and your chaise, and your 
 wardrobe, and your horses, and whatever else I have that belongs 
 to you. As I was saying, I will not shirk my duty. The mem- 
 ory of my dear father, and of what he would have wished, will 
 not permit me to let you go a-begging. Yoa shall be provided 
 for out of the estate, despite what you have said and done." 
 
 This was surely the quintessence of a rogue's imagination. 
 Instinctively I shrank from him. With a show of piety that 
 turned me sick he continued : — 
 
 " Let God witness that I carry out my father's will ! " 
 
 " Stop there, Grafton Carvel ! " I cried ; " you shall not take 
 His name in vain. Under this guise of holiness you and your 
 accomplice have done the devil's own work, and the devil will 
 reward ^'■ou." 
 
 This reference to Mr. Allen, I believe, frightened him. Eor 
 a second only did he show it. 
 
 "My — my accomplice, sir!" he stammered. And then 
 righting himself : " You will have to explain this, by Heaven." 
 
 " In ample time your plot shall be laid bare, and you and 
 Ms Reverence shall hang, or lie in chains."
 
 THE HOUSE OF MEMORIES 417 
 
 "You threaten, Mr. Carvel? "he shouted, nearly stepping 
 off the porch in his excitement. 
 
 " Nay, I predict," I replied calmly. And I went down the 
 steps and out of the gate, he looking after me. Before I had 
 turned the corner of Freshwater Lane, he was in the seat, and 
 fanning himself with his hat. 
 
 I went straight to Mr. Swain's chambers in the Circle, where 
 I found the good barrister and Captain Daniel in their shirt- 
 sleeves, seated between the windows in the back room. Mr. 
 Swain was grave enough when he heard of my talk with Graf- 
 ton, but the captain swore I was my father's son (for the 
 fiftieth time since I had come back), and that a man could no 
 more help flying at Grafton's face than Knipe could resist his 
 legs ; or Cynthia his back, if he went into her stall. I had 
 scarce finished my recital, when Mr. Renwick, the barrister's 
 clerk, announced Mr. Tucker, which caused Mr. Swain to let 
 out a whistle of surprise. 
 
 "So the wind blows from that quarter, Daniel," said he. 
 «I thought so." 
 
 Mr. Tucker proved to be the pettifogger into whose hands 
 Grafton had put his affairs, taking them from Mr. Dulany at 
 Mr. Carvel's death. The man was all in a sweat, and had 
 hardly got in the door before he began to talk. He had no 
 less astonishing a proposition to make than this, which he 
 enunciated with much mouthing of the honour and sense of 
 duty of Mr. Grafton Carvel. His client offered to Mr. Richard 
 Carvel the estate lying in Kent County, embracing thirty-three 
 hundred acres more or less of arable land and woodland, with 
 a fine new house, together with the indented servants and 
 negroes and other chattels thereon. Mr. Richard Carvel 
 would observe that in making this generous offer for the 
 welfare of his nephew, Mr. Tucker's client was far beyond the 
 letter of his obligations ; wherefore Mr. Grafton Carvel made 
 it contingent upon the acceptance of the estate that his 
 nephew should sign a paper renouncing forever any claims 
 upon the properties of the late Mr. Lionel Carvel. This con- 
 dition was so deftly rolled up in law-Latin that I did not 
 understand a word of it until Mr. Swain stated it very briefly 
 
 2 B
 
 418 . EICHARD CARVEL 
 
 in English. His quiet laugh prodigiously disconcerted the 
 pettifogger, who had before been sufficiently ill at ease in the 
 presence of the great lawyer. Mr. Tucker blew his nose 
 loudly to hide his confusion. 
 
 " And what say you, Richard ? " said Mr. Swain, without a 
 shade of accent in his voice. 
 
 I bowed my head. I knew that the honest barrister had 
 read my heart Avhen he spoke of noblesse oblige. That sense- 
 less pride of cast, so deep-rooted in those born in our province, 
 had made itself felt. To be a factor (so I thought, for I was 
 young) was to renounce my birth. Until that moment of 
 travail the doctrine of equality had seemed very pretty to me. 
 Your fine gentleman may talk as nobly as he pleases over his 
 Madeira, and yet would patronize Monsieur Rousseau if he 
 met him ; and he takes never a thought of those who knuckle 
 to him every day, and clean his boots and collect his rents. 
 But when he is tried in the fire, and told suddenly to collect 
 some one else's rents and curse another's negroes, he is faint- 
 hearted for the experiment. So it was with me when I had 
 to meet the issue. I might take Grafton's offer, and the chance 
 to marry Dorothy was come again. For by industry the owner 
 of the Kent lands would become rich. 
 
 The room was hot, and still save for the buzzing of the flies. 
 When I looked up I discovered the eyes of all three upon me. 
 
 " You may tell your client, Mr. Tucker, that I refuse his 
 offer," I said. 
 
 He got to his feet, and with the customary declaration of 
 humble servitude bowed himself out. 
 
 The door was scarce closed on him when the captain had me 
 by the hands. 
 
 "What said I, Henry?" he cried. "Did I not know the 
 lad ? " 
 
 Mr. Swain did not stir from his seat. He was still gazing 
 at me with a curious expression. And then I saw the world 
 in truer colour. This good Samaritan was not only taking me 
 into his home, but would tight for my rights with the strong 
 brain that had lifted him out of poverty and obscurity. I 
 stood, humbled before him.
 
 THE HOUSE OE MEMORIES 419 
 
 " I would accept your kindness, Mr. Swain," I said, vainly 
 trying to steady my voice, " but I have the faithful fellow, 
 Banks, who followed me here from England, dependant on 
 me, and Hugo, whom I rescued from my uncle. I Avill make 
 over the black to you and you will have him." 
 
 He rose, brushed his eyes with his shirt, and took me by 
 the arm. " You and the captain dine with me to-day," says 
 he. "And as for Banks, I think that can be arranged. Now 
 I have an estate, I shall need a trained butler, egad. I have some 
 affairs to keep me in town to-day, Richard. But we'll be off 
 for Gordon''s Pride in the morning, and I know of one little 
 girl will be glad to see us." 
 
 We dined out under the apple tree in Gloucester Street. 
 And the captain argued, in his hopeful way, that Tucker's 
 visit betrayed a weak point in Grafton's position. But the 
 barrister shook his head and said that Grafton was too shrewd 
 a rogue to tender me an estate if he feared me. It w^as Mr. 
 Swain's opinion that the motive of my uncle was to put him- 
 self in a good light ; and perhaps, he added, there was a little 
 revenge mixed therein, as the Kent estate was the one Mr. 
 Carvel had given him when he cast him off. 
 
 A southerly wind was sending great rolls of fog before it as 
 Mr. Swain and I, with Banks, crossed over to Kent Island on 
 the ferry the next morning. We traversed the island, and 
 were landed by the other ferry on the soil of my native county, 
 Queen Anne's. In due time we cantered past Master Dingley's 
 tavern, the sight of w^hich gave me a sharp pang, for it is there 
 that the by-road turns over the bridge to Carvel Hall and Wil- 
 mot House ; and force of habit drew my reins to the right 
 across the horse's neck, so that I swerved into it. The barris- 
 ter had no word of comment when I overtook him again. 
 
 'Twas about two o'clock when "we came to the gate Mr. Swain 
 had erected at the entrance to his place ; the land was a little 
 rolling, and partly wooded, like that on the Wye. But the fields 
 were prodigiously unkempt. He drew up, and glanced at me. 
 
 " You will see there is much to be done with such fallows as 
 these," said he. "The lessees from his Lordship were sports-
 
 420 EICHARD CARVEL 
 
 men rather than husbandmen, and had an antipathy to a con- 
 stable or a sheriff like a rat to a boar cat. That is the curse 
 of some of your Eastern Shore gentlemen, especially in Dor- 
 chester," he added; "they get to be fishmongers." 
 
 Presently we came in sight of the house, long and low, like 
 the one in Gloucester Street, with a new and unpainted wing 
 just completed. That day the mist softened its outline and 
 blurred the trees which clustered about it. Even as we swung 
 into the circle of the drive a rounded and youthful figure ap- 
 peared in the doorway, gave a little cry, and stood immovable. 
 It was Patty, in a striped dimity gown with the sleeves 
 rolled up, and her face fairly shcne with joy as I leaped from 
 my horse and took her hands. 
 
 " So you like my surprise, girl ? " said her father, as he 
 kissed her blushing face. 
 
 Eor answer she tore herself away, and ran through the hall 
 to the broad porch in front. 
 
 "Our barrister is come, mother," we heard her exclaiming, 
 " and whom do you think he has brought ? " 
 
 " Is it Richard ? " asked the gentler voice, more hastily than 
 usual. 
 
 I stepped out on the porch, where the invalid sat in her arm- 
 chair. She was smiling with joy, too, and she held out her wasted 
 hands and drew me toward her, kissing me on both cheeks. 
 
 " I thank God for His goodness," said she. 
 
 " And the boy has come to stay, mother," said her husband, 
 as he stooped over her. 
 
 " To stay ! " cries Patty. 
 
 " Gordon's Pride is henceforth his home," replied the barris- 
 ter. "And now I can return in peace to my musty law, and 
 know that my plantation will be well looked after." 
 
 Patty gasped. 
 
 "Oh, I am so glad !" said she, "I could almost rejoice that 
 nis uncle cheated him out of his property. He is to be factor 
 of Gordon's Pride ? " 
 
 " He is to be master of Gordon's Pride, my dear," says her 
 father, smiling and tilting her chin ; " we shall have no such 
 persons as factors here."
 
 THE HOUSE OF MEMORIES 421 
 
 At that the tears forced themselves into my own eyes. I 
 turned away, and then I perceived for the first time the tall 
 form of my old friend, Percy Singleton, 
 
 "May I, too, bid you welcome, Richard," said he, in his 
 manly way, "and rejoice that I have got such a neighbour?" 
 
 " Thank you, Percy," I answered. I was not in a state to 
 say much more. 
 
 " And now," exclaims Patty, " what a dinner we shall have 
 in the prodigal's honour ! I shall make you all some of the 
 Naples biscuit Mrs. Price told me of." 
 
 She flew into the house, and presently we heard her cleai 
 voice singing in the kitchen.
 
 CHAPTER XLVI 
 
 Gordon's pride 
 
 The years of a man's life that count the most are often 
 those which may be passed quickest in the story of it. And 
 sol may hurry over the first years I spent as Mr. Swain's 
 factor at Gordon's Pride. The task that came to my hand was 
 heaven-sent. 
 
 That manor-house, I am sure, was the tidiest in all Mary- 
 land, thanks to Patty's New England blood. She was astir 
 with the birds of a morning, and near the last to retire at 
 night, and happy as the days were long. She was ever up to 
 her elbows in some dish, and her butter and her biscuits were 
 the best in the province. Little she cared to work samplers, 
 or peacocks in pretty wools, tho' in some way she found the 
 time to learn the spinet. As the troubles with the mother 
 country thickened, she took to a foot-wheel, and often in the 
 crisp autumn evenings I would hear the bumping of it as I 
 walked to the house, and turn the knob to come upon her 
 spinning by the twilight. She would have no English-made 
 linen in that household. "If mine scratch your back, Rich- 
 ard," she would say, ''you must grin and bear, and console 
 yourself with your virtue." It was I saw to the flax, and 
 learned from Ivie Rawlinson (who had come to us from Car- 
 vel Hall) the best manner to ripple and break and swingle it. 
 And Mr. Swain, in imitation of the high example set by Mr. 
 Bordley, had buildings put up for wheels and the looms, and 
 in due time kept his own sheep. 
 
 If man or woman, white or black, fell sick on the place, it 
 was Patty herself who tended them. She knew the virtue of 
 every herb in the big chest in the storeroom. And at table she 
 
 422
 
 GORDON'S PRIDE 423 
 
 presided over her father's guests with a womanliness that won 
 her more admiration than mine. Now that the barrister was 
 become a man of weight, the house was as crowded as ever was 
 Carvel Hall. Carrolls and Facas and Dulanys and Johnsons, 
 and Lloyds and Bordleys and Brices and Scotts and Jennings 
 and Ridouts, and Colonel Sharpe, who remained in the prov- 
 ince, and many more families of prominence which I have not 
 space to mention, all came. to Gordon's Pride. Some of these, as 
 their names proclaim, were of the King's side ; but the bulk of 
 Mr. Swain's company were stanch patriots, and toasted Miss 
 Patty instead of his Majesty. By this I do not mean that 
 they lacked loyalty, for it is a matter of note that our colony 
 loved King George. 
 
 I must not omit from the list above the name of my good 
 friend. Captain Clapsaddle. 
 
 Nor was there lack of younger company. Betty Tayloe, 
 who plied me with questions concerning Dorothy and London, 
 but especially about the dashing and handsome Lord Comyn ; 
 and the Dulany girls, and I know not how many others. Will 
 Fotheringay, when he was home from college, and Archie 
 Brice, and Francis Willard (whose father was now in the As- 
 sembly) and half a dozen more to court Patty, who would not 
 so much as look at them. And when I twitted her with this 
 she would redden and reply : *' I was created for a housewife, 
 sir, and not to make eyes from behind a fan." Indeed, she 
 was at her prettiest and best in the dimity frock, with the 
 sleeves rolled up. 
 
 'Twas a very merry place, the manor of Gordon's Pride. 
 A generous bowl of punch always stood in the cool hall, 
 through which the south winds swept from off the water, and 
 fruit and sangaree and lemonade were on the table there. The 
 manor had no ball-room, but the negro fiddlers played in the 
 big parlour. And the young folks danced till supper time. Tn 
 three months Patty's suppers grew famous in a colony where 
 there was no lack of good cooks. 
 
 The sweet-natured invalid enjoyed these festivities in her 
 quiet way, and often pressed me to partake. So did Patty beg 
 me, and Mr. Swain. Perhaps a false sense of pride restrained
 
 424 RICHAED CAEVEL 
 
 me, but my duties held me all day in the field, and often into the 
 night when there was curing to be done, or some other matters 
 of necessity. And for the rest, I thought I detected a change 
 in the tone of Mr. Fotheringay, and some others, tho' it may 
 have been due to sensibility on my part. I would put up with 
 no patronage. 
 
 There was no change of tone, at least, with the elder gentle- 
 men. They plainly showed me an added respect. And so I 
 fell into the habit, after my work was over, of joining them in 
 their suppers rather than the sons and daughters. There I was 
 made right welcome. The serious conversation spiced with the 
 wit of trained barristers and men of affairs better suited my 
 changed condition of life. The times were sober, and for those 
 who could see, a black cloud was on each horizon. 'Twas only 
 a matter of months when the thunder-clap was to come — indeed, 
 enough was going on within our own province to forebode 
 a revolution. The Assembly to which many of these gen- 
 tlemen belonged was in a righteous state of opposition to the 
 Proprietary and the Council concerning the emoluments of colo- 
 nial officers and of clergymen. Honest Governor Eden had the 
 misfortune to see the justice of our side, and was driven into 
 a seventh state by his attempts to square his conscience. Bit- 
 ter controversies were waging in the Gazette, and names were 
 called and duels fought weekly. Eor our cause "The First 
 Citizen" led the van, and the able arguments and moderate 
 language of his letters scon identified him as Mr. Charles Car- 
 roll of Carrollton, one of the greatest men Maryland has ever 
 known. But even at Mr. Swain's, amongst his few intimate 
 friends, Mr. Carroll could never be got to admit his 7iO'in de guerre 
 until long after Antilon had been beaten. 
 
 I write it with pride, that at ihese suppers I was sometimes 
 asked to speak ; and, having b'^-en but lately to England, to give 
 my opinion upon the state of affairs there. Mr. Carroll hon- 
 oured me upon two occasions with his confidence, and I was made 
 clerk to a little club they had, and kept the minutes in my own 
 hand. 
 
 I went about in homespun, which, if good enough for Mr. 
 Bordley, was good enough for me. I rode with him over the
 
 GORDON'S PRIDE 425 
 
 estate. This gentleman was the most accomplished and scien 
 tific farmer we had in the province. Hazing inherited his 
 plantation on Wye Island, near Carvel Hall, he resigned his 
 dut'es as judge, and a lucrative practice, to turn all his energies 
 to the cultivation of the soil. His wheat was as eagerly sought 
 after as was Colonel Washington's tobacco. 
 
 It was to Mr. Bordley's counsel that the greater part of my 
 success was due. He taught me the folly of ploughing with a 
 fluke, — a custom to which the Eastern Shore was wedded, — 
 pointing out that a double surface was thus exposed to the 
 sun's rays ; and explained at length why there was more profit 
 in small grain in that district than heavy tobacco. He gave 
 me Dr. Eliot's "Essays on Field Husbandry," and Mill's 
 " Ilusby," which I read from cover to cover. And I went from 
 time to time to visit him at Wye Island, when he would canter 
 with me over that magnificent plantation, and show me with 
 pride the finished outcome of his experiments. 
 
 Mr. Swain's affairs kept him in town the greater part 
 of the twelve months, and Mrs. Swain and Patty moved to 
 Annapolis in the autumn. But for three years I was at Gor- 
 don's Pride winter and summer alike. At the end of that time 
 I was fortunate enough to show my employer such substantial 
 results as to earn his commendation — ay, and his confidence, 
 which was the highest token of that man's esteem. The 
 moneys of the estate he left entirely at my order. And in the 
 spring of '73, when the opportunity was suddenly offered to 
 buy a thousand acres of excellent wheat land adjoining, I made 
 the purchase for him while he was at Williamsburg, and upon 
 my own responsibility. 
 
 This connected the plantation on the east wich Singleton's. 
 It had been my secret hope that the two estates might one day 
 be joined in marriage. For of all those who came a-courting 
 Patty, Percy was by far the best. He was but a difiident 
 suitor ; he would sit with me on the lawn evening after even- 
 ing, when company was there, while Fotheringay and Francis 
 Willard made their compliments within, — silly flatteries, at 
 which Patty laughed. 
 
 Percy kept his hounds, and many a run we had together ir>
 
 426 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 the sparkling days that followed the busy summer, when the 
 crops were safe in the bottoms ; or a quiet pipe and bottle in 
 his bachelor's hall, after a soaking on the duck points. 
 
 And this brings me to a subject on which I am loth to write. 
 Where Mr. Singleton was concerned, Patty, the kindest of 
 creatures, was cruelty itself. Once, when I had the effron- 
 tery to venture a word in his behalf, I had been silenced 
 so effectively as to make my ears tingle. A thousand little 
 signs led me to a conclusion which pained me more than I can 
 express. Heaven is my witness that no baser feeling leads me 
 to hint of it here. Every day while the garden lasted flowers 
 were in my room, and it was Banks who told me that she 
 would allow no other hands than her own to place them by my 
 bed. He got a round rating from me for violating the pledge 
 of secrecy he had given her. It was Patty who made my 
 shirts, and on Christmas knitted me something of comfort; 
 who stood on the horse-block in the early morning waving after 
 me as I rode away, and at my coming her eyes would kindle 
 with a light not to be mistaken. 
 
 None of these things were lost upon Percy Singleton, and I 
 often wondered why he did not hate me. He was of the kind 
 that never shows a hurt. Force of habit still sent him to Gor- 
 don's Pride, but for days he would have nothing to say to the 
 mistress of it, or she to him.
 
 CHAPTER XLVII 
 
 VISITORS 
 
 It was not often that Mr. Thomas Swain honoured Gordon's 
 Pride with his presence. He vowed that the sober Whig com- 
 pany his father brought there gave him the vapours. He 
 snapped his fingers at the articles of the Patriots' Association, 
 and still had his cocked hats and his Brussels lace and his spy- 
 glass, and his top boots when he rode abroad, like any other 
 Tory buck. His intimates were all of the King's side, — of 
 the worst of the King's side, I should say, for I would not be 
 thought to cast any slur on the great number of conscientious 
 men of that party. But, being the son of one of the main props 
 of the Whigs, Mr. Tom went unpunished for his father's sake. 
 He was not uncondemned. 
 
 Up to 1774, the times that Mr, Swain mentioned his son to 
 me might be counted on the fingers of one hand. It took not a 
 great deal of shrewdness to guess that he had paid out many a 
 pretty sum to keep Tom's honour bright : as bright, at least, as 
 such doubtful metal would polish. Tho' the barrister sought 
 my ear in many matters, I never heard a whimper out of him 
 on this score. 
 
 Master Tom had no ambition beyond that of being a maca- 
 roni ; his easy-going nature led him to avoid alike trouble and 
 responsibility. Hence he did not bother his head concerning 
 my position. He appeared well content that I should make 
 money out of the plantation for him to spend. His visits to 
 Gordon's Pride were generally in the late autiinin, and he 
 brought his own company with him. I recall vividly his third 
 or fourth appearance, in October of '73. Well I may ! The 
 family was preparing to go to town, and this year I was to foh 
 
 427
 
 428 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 low them, and take from Mr. Swain's shoulders some of hia 
 private business, for he had been ailing a little of late from 
 overwork. 
 
 The day of which I have spoken a storm had set in, the rain 
 falling in sheets. I had been in the saddle since breakfast, 
 seeing to an hundred repairs that had to be made before the 
 cold weather. 'Twas near the middle of the afternoon when I 
 pulled up before the weaving house. The looms were still, and 
 Patty met me at the door with a grave look, which I knew por- 
 tended something. But her first words were of my comfort. 
 
 " Richard, will you ever learn sense ? You have been wet 
 all day long, and have missed your dinner. Go at once and 
 change your clothes, sir ! " she commanded severely. 
 
 " I have first to look at the warehouse, where the roof is 
 leaking," I expostulated. 
 
 " You shall do no such thing," replied she, '' but dry yourself, 
 and march into the dining room. We have had the ducks you 
 shot yesterday, and some of your experimental hominy ; but 
 they are all gone." 
 
 I knew well she had laid aside for me some dainty, as was 
 her habit. I dismounted. She gave me a quick, troubled 
 glance, and said in a low voice : — 
 
 " Tom is come. And oh, [ dare not tell you ivhom be has 
 jvith him now ! " 
 
 " Courtenay ? " I asked. 
 
 " Yes, of course. I hate the sight of the man. But your 
 cousin, Philip Carvel, is hfere, Richard. Father will be very 
 angry. And they are making a drinking-tavern of the house." 
 
 I gave Firefly a slap that sent her trotting stable-ward, and 
 walked rapidly to the house. I found the three of them drink- 
 ing in the hall, the punch spiliCd over the table, and staining 
 the cards. 
 
 " Gad's life ! " cries Tom, " here comes Puritan Richard, in 
 his broad rim. How goes the crop, Richard? 'Twill have to 
 go well, egad, for I lost an hundred at the South River Club 
 last week ! " 
 
 Next him sat Philip, whom I had not seen since before I 
 was carried off. He was lately come home from King's College
 
 VISITORS 429 
 
 and very mysteriously, his father giving out that his health 
 was not all it should be. He had not gained Grafton's height, 
 but he was broader, and his face had something in it of his 
 father. He had his mother's under lip and complexion. Graf- 
 ton was sallow ; Philip was a peculiar pink, — not the ruddy 
 pink of heartier natures, like my grandfather's, nor yet had he 
 the peach-like skin of Mr. Dix. Philip's was a darker and 
 more solid colour, and I have never seen man or woman with 
 it and not mistrustedthem. He wore a red velvet coat embroid- 
 ered with gold, and as costly ruffles as I had ever seen in Lon- 
 don. But for all this my cousin had a coarse look, and his 
 polished blue flints of eyes were those of a coarse man. 
 
 He got to his feet as Tom spoke, looking anywhere but at 
 me, and came forward slowly. He was loyal to no one, was 
 Philip, not even to his father. When he was got within three 
 paces he halted. 
 
 " How do you, cousin ? " says he. 
 
 " A little wet, as you perceive, Philip," I replied. 
 
 I left him and stood before the tire, my rough wool steaming 
 in the heat. He sat down again, a little awkwardly ; and the 
 situation began to please me better. 
 
 " How do you ? " I asked presently. 
 
 "I have got a devilish cold," said he. "Faith, I'll ivarrant 
 the doctor will be sworn I have been but indifferent company 
 since we left the Hall. Eh, doctor ? " 
 
 Courtenay, with his feet stretched out, bestowed an amiable 
 but languid wink upon me, as much as to say that I knew 
 what Mr. Philip's company was at best. When I came out 
 after my dinner, they were still sitting there, Courtenay yawn- 
 ing, and Tom and Philip wrangling over last night's play. 
 
 " Come, my man of affairs, join us a hand ! " says the doctor 
 to me. " I have known the time when you would sit from 
 noon until supper." 
 
 " I had monev then," said I. 
 
 " And you have a little now, or I am cursed badly mistook. 
 Oons ! what do you fear ? " he exclaimed, " you that have 
 played with March and Fox ? " 
 
 "I fear nothing, doctor," I answered, smiling. "But a man
 
 430 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 must have a sorry honour when he will win fifty pounds with 
 but ten of capital." 
 
 " One of Dr. Franklin's maxims, I presume," says he, with 
 sarcasm. 
 
 " And if it were, it could scarce be more pat," I retorted. 
 II j-ji^g Poor Richard's maxim." 
 
 " lud ! O my soul ! " cries Tom, with a hiccup and a snig- 
 ger; "'tis time you made another grand tour, Courtenay. 
 Here's the second Whig has got in on you within the 
 week ! " 
 
 " I thank God they have not got me down to osnabrig and 
 bumbo yet," replies the doctor. Coming over to me by the 
 fire, he tapped my sleeve and added in a low tone : " Forbear- 
 ance with such a pair of asses is enough to make a man shed 
 bitter tears. But a little of it is necessary to keep out of 
 debt. You and I will play together, against both the lambs, 
 Richard. One of them is not far from maudlin now." 
 
 "Thank you, doctor," I answered politely, "but I have a 
 better way to make my living." In three years I had learned 
 a little to control my temper. 
 
 He shrugged his thin shoulders. " Eh Men, mon bon," says 
 he, " I dare swear you know your own game better than do I." 
 And he cast a look up the stairs, of which I quite missed the 
 meaning. Indeed, I was wholly indifferent. The doctor and 
 his like had passed out of my life, and I believed they were 
 soon to disappear from our Western Hemisphere. The report 
 I had heard was now confirmed, that his fortune was dissi- 
 pated, and ^,hat he lived entirely off these young rakes who 
 aspired to be macaronies. 
 
 " Since your factor is become a damned Lutheran, Tom," 
 said he, returning to the table and stripping a pack, "it will 
 have to be picquet. You promised me we could count on a 
 fourth, or I had never left Inman's." 
 
 It was Tom, as I had feared, who sat down unsteadily oppo- 
 site. Philip lounged and Avatched them sulkily, snuffing and 
 wheezing and dipping into the bowl, and cursing the house for 
 a draughty barn. I took a pipe on the settle to see what 
 would come of it. I was not surprised that Courtenay lost at 

 
 VISITORS 431 
 
 first, and that Tom drank the most of the punch. Nor was it 
 above half an hour before the stakes were raised and the tide 
 began to turn in the doctor's favour. 
 
 *'A plague of you, Courtenay!" cries Mr. Tom, at lengthy 
 flinging down the cards. His voice was thick, while the 
 Selwyn of Annapolis was never soberer in his life. Tom ap 
 pealed first to Philip for the twenty pounds he owed him. 
 
 " You know how damned stingy my father is, curse you," 
 whined my cousin, in return. "I told you I should not have 
 it till the first of the month." 
 
 Tom swore back. He thrust his hands deep in his pockets 
 and sank into that attitude of dejection common to drunkards. 
 Suddenly he pulled himself up. 
 
 " 'Shblood ! Here's Richard t' draw from. Lemma have 
 fifty pounds, Richard." 
 
 " Not a farthing," I said, unmoved. 
 
 "You say wha' shall be done with my father's money!" 
 he cried. " I call tha' damned cool — Gad's life ! I do. Eh, 
 Courtenay ? " 
 
 Courtenay had the sense not to interfere. 
 
 " I'll have you dishcharged. Gad's death ! so I will ! " he 
 shouted. " No damned airs wi' me, Mr. Carvel. I'll have you 
 know you're not wha' you once were, but only a cursht over- 
 sheer." 
 
 He struggled to his feet, forgot his wrath on the instant, and 
 began to sing drunkenly the words of a ribald air. I took 
 him by both shoulders and pushed him back into his chair. 
 
 "Be quiet," I said sternly; "while your mother and sister 
 are here you shall not insult them with such a song." He 
 ceased, astonished. "And as for you, gentlemen," I con- 
 tinued, "you should know better than to make a place of re- 
 sort out of a gentleman's house." 
 
 Courtenay's voice broke the silence that followed. 
 
 " Of all the cursed impertinences I ever saw, egad ! " he 
 drawled. "' Is this your manor, Mr. Carvel ? Or have you a 
 seat in Kent ? " 
 
 I would not have it in black and white that I am an advo- 
 cate of fighting. But at that moment I was in the mood
 
 432 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 when it does not matter miich one way or the other. The 
 drunken man carried us past the point. 
 
 "The damned in-intriguing rogue'sh worked himself into 
 my father's grashes," he said, counting out his words. " He'sh 
 no more Whig than me. I know'sh game, Courtenay — he 
 wants t' marry Patty. Thisli place'll be hers." 
 
 The effect upon me of these words, with all their hideous 
 implication of gossip and scandal, was for an instant benumb- 
 ing. The interpretation of the doctor's innuendo struck me 
 then. I was starting forward, with a hand open to clap over 
 Tom's mouth, when I saw the laugh die on Courtenay's face, 
 and him come bowing to his legs. I turned with a start. 
 
 On the stairs stood Patty herself, pale as marble. 
 
 " Come with me, Tom," she said. 
 
 He had obeyed her from childhood. This time he tried, and 
 failed miserably. 
 
 " Beg pardon, Patty," he stammered, " no offensh meant. 
 Tliish factor thinks h' ownsh Gordon's now. I say, not'll h' 
 marries you. Good fellow, Richard, but infernal forward. 
 Eh, Courtenay ? " 
 
 Philip turned away, while the doctor pretended to examine 
 the silver punch-ladle. As for me, I could only stare. It was 
 Patty who kept her head, and made us a stately curtsey. 
 
 " Will you do me the kindness, gentlemen," said she, " to 
 leave me with my brother ? " 
 
 We walked silently into the parlour, and I closed the 
 door. 
 
 " ' Slif e ! " cried Courtenay, " she's a vision. What say you, 
 Philip ? And I might see her in that guise again, egad, I would 
 forgive Tom his five hundred crowns ! " 
 
 " A buxom vision," agreed my cousin, " but I vow I like 'em 
 so." He had forgotten his cold. 
 
 " This conversation is all of a piece with the rest of your 
 conduct," said I, hotly. 
 
 The candles were burning brightly in the sconces. The 
 doctor walked to the glass, took snuff, and brushed his waist- 
 coat before he answered. 
 
 ''■ Sure, a fortune lies under every virtue we assume,'' b**
 
 VISITORS 433 
 
 recited. "But she is not for you, Richard," says he, tapping 
 his box. 
 
 "Mr. Carvel, if you please," I replied. I felt the demon 
 within rae. But I had the sense to realize that a quarrel with 
 Dr. Courtenay, under the circumstances, would be far from wise. 
 He had no intention of quarrelling, however. He made me a 
 grand bow. 
 
 " Mr. Carvel, your very obedient. Hereafter I shall know 
 better than to forget myself with an overseer." And he gave 
 me his back. " What say you to a game of billiards, Philip ?" 
 
 Philip seemed glad to escape. And soon I heard their voices, 
 mingling with the click of the balls. There followed for me 
 one of the bitterest half hours I have had in my life. Then 
 Patty opened the hall dooi*. 
 
 " Will you come in for a moment, Richard ? " she said, 
 quite calmly. 
 
 I followed her, wondering at the masterful spirit she had 
 shown. For there was Tom all askew in his chair, his feet 
 one way and his hands another, totally subdued. What was 
 most to the point, he made me an elaborate apology. How she 
 had sobered his mind I know not. His body was as helpless 
 as the day he was born. 
 
 Long before the guests thought of rising the next morning, 
 Patty came to me as I was having the mare saddled. The sun 
 was up, and the clouds were being chased, like miscreants who 
 have played their prank, and were now running for it. The 
 sharp air brought the red into her cheeks. And for the first 
 time in her life with me she showed shyness. She glanced up 
 into my face, and then down at the leaves running on the 
 ground. 
 
 " I hope they will go to-day," said she, when I was ready to 
 mount. 
 
 I began to tighten the girths, venting my feelings on Pirefly 
 until the animal swung around and made a vicious pass at my 
 arm. 
 
 " Richard ! " 
 
 « Yes." 
 
 " You will not worry over that senseless speech of Tom's ? " 
 2f
 
 434 EICHARD CARVEL 
 
 " I see it in a properer light now, Patty," I replied. " We 
 usually do — in the morning." 
 
 She sighed. 
 
 "You are so high-strung," she said, "I was afraid jou 
 would — " 
 
 "I would — ?" 
 
 She did not answer until I had repeated. 
 
 " I was very silly," she said slowly, her colour mounting 
 even higher, "I was afraid that you would — leave us." Strok- 
 ing the mare's neck, and with a little halt in her voice, " I do 
 not know what we should do without you." 
 
 Indeed, I was beginning to think I would better leave, though 
 where I should go was more than I could say. With a quick 
 intuition she caught my hand as I put foot in the stirrup. 
 
 " You will not go away ! " she cried. " Say you will not ! 
 What would poor father do ? He is not so well as he used 
 to be." 
 
 The wild appeal in her eyes frightened me. It was beyond 
 resisting. In great agitation I put my foot to the ground again. 
 
 ''Patty, I should be a graceless scamp in truth," I exclaimed. 
 " I do not forget that your father gave me a home when mine 
 was taken away, and has made me one of his family. I shall 
 thank God if I can but lighten some of his burdens." 
 
 But they did not depart that day, nor the next ; nor, indeed, 
 for a week after. For Philip's cold brought on a high fever. 
 He stuck to his bed, and Patty herself made broth and dainties 
 for him, and prescribed him medicine out of the oak chest 
 whence had come so much comfort. At first Philip thought 
 he would die, and forswore wme and cards, and some other 
 things the taste for which he had cultivated, and likewise worse 
 vices that had come to him by nature. 
 
 I am greatly pleased to write that the stay profited the gal- 
 lant Dr. Courtenay nothing. Patt3^'s mature beauty and her 
 manner of carrying off the episode in the hall had made a deep 
 impression upon the Censor. I read the man's mind in his eye ; 
 here was a match to mend his fortunes, and do him credit 
 besides. However, his wit and his languishing glances and 
 double meanings fell on barren ground. No tire-woman on the
 
 VISITORS 435 
 
 plantation was busier than Patty during the first few days of 
 his stay. After that he grew sulky and vented his spleen on 
 pool- Tom, winning more money from him at billiards and 
 picquet. Since the doctor was too much the macaroni to ride 
 to hounds and to shoot ducks, time began to hang exceeding 
 heavy on his hands. 
 
 Patty and I had many a quiet laugh over his predicament. 
 And, to add zest to the situation, I informed Singleton lof what 
 was going forward. He came over every night for supper, 
 and to my delight the bluff Englishman was received in a 
 fashion to make the doctor writhe and snort with mortiiication. 
 Never in his life had he been so insignificant a person. And 
 he, whose conversation was so sought after in the gay season 
 in town, was thrown for companionship upon a scarce-grown 
 boy whose talk was about as salted, and whose intellect as 
 great, as those of the cockerouse in our fable. He stood it 
 about a se'nnight, at the end of which s^jace Philip was put 
 on his horse, will-he-nill-he, and made to ride northward. 
 
 I sat with my cousin of an evening as he lay in bed. Not, I 
 own, from any charity on my part, but from other motives 
 which do me no credit. The first niglit he confessed his sins, 
 and they edified me not a little. On the second he was well 
 enough to sit up and swear, and to vow that Miss Swain was 
 an angel ; that he would marry her the very next week and 
 his father Grafton were not such a stickler for family. 
 
 "Curse him," says his dutiful and loyal son, "he is so bally 
 stingy with my stipend that I am in debt to half the province. 
 And I say it myself, Richard, he has been a blackguard to you, 
 tho' I allow him some little excuse. You were faring better 
 now, my dear cousin, and you had not given him every reason 
 to hate you. For I have heard him declare more than once — 
 'pon my soul, I have — that he would rather you were his 
 friend than his enemy." 
 
 My contempt for Philip kept me silent here. I might quar- 
 rel with Grafton, who had sense enough to feel pain at a well- 
 deserved thrust. Philip had not the intelligence to recognize 
 insult from compliment. It was but natural he should mistake 
 my attitude now. He leaned forward in his bed.
 
 436 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 "Hark you, Richard," whispers he, with a glance at the 
 door, " I might tell you some things and I chose, and — and it 
 were worth my while." 
 
 " Worth your while ? " I repeated vaguely. 
 
 He traced nervously the figures on the counterpane. Next 
 came a rush of anger to redden his face. 
 
 " By Gad, I will tell you. Swear to Gad I will." Then, the 
 little cunning inherited from his father asserting itself, he 
 added, " Look you, Richard, I am the son of one of the richest 
 men in the colony, and I get the pittance of a backwoods pastor. 
 I tell you 'tis not to be borne with. And I am not of as much 
 consideration at the Hall as Brady, the Irish convict, who has 
 become overseer." 
 
 I little wondered at this. Philip sank back, and for some 
 moments eyed me between narrowed lids. He continued pres- 
 ently with shortened breath : — 
 
 " I have evidence — I have evidence to get you back a good 
 share of the estate, which my father will never miss. And I 
 will do it," he cries, suddenly bold, " I will do it for three thou- 
 sand pounds down when you receive it." 
 
 This was why he had come with Tom to Talbot ! I was so 
 dumfounded that my speech was quite taken away. Then I got 
 up and began pacing the room. Was it not fair to fight a scoun- 
 drel with his own weapons ? Here at last was the witness Mr. 
 Swain had been seeking so long, come of his own free will. 
 Then — Heaven help me ! — my mind flew on. As time had 
 passed I had more than once regretted refusing the Kent plan- 
 tation, which had put her from whom my thought never wan- 
 dered within my reach again. Good Mr. Swain had erred for 
 once. 'Twas foolish, indeed, not to accept a portion of what 
 was rightfully mine, when no more could be got. And now, if 
 what Philip said was true (and I doubted it not), here at last 
 was the chance come again to win her without whom I should 
 never be happy. I glanced at my cousin. 
 
 " Gad's life ! " says he, " it is cheap enough. I might have 
 asked you double." 
 
 " So you might, and have been refused," I cried hotly. For 
 I believe that speech of his recalled me to my senses. It has
 
 VISITORS 437 
 
 ever been an instinct with me that no real prosperity comes 
 out of double-dealing. And commerce with such a sneak 
 sickened me. " Go back to your father, Philip, and threaten 
 him, and he may make you rich. Such as he live by blackmail. 
 And you may add, and you will, that the day of retribution is 
 coming for him."
 
 CHAPTER XLVIII 
 
 MULTUM IN PARVO 
 
 I LOST no time after getting to Annapolis in confiding to Mr. 
 SAvain the conversation I had had with my cousin Philip. 
 And I noticed, as he sat listening to my account in the library 
 in Gloucester Street, that the barrister looked very worn. He 
 had never been a strong man, and the severe strain he had 
 been under with the patriots' business was beginning to tell. 
 
 He was very thoughtful when I had finished, and then told 
 me briefly that I had done well not to take the offer. " Tucker 
 would have made but short work of such evidence, my lad," 
 said he, " and I think Master Philip would have lied himself 
 in and out a dozen times. I cannot think what witness he 
 would have introduced save Mr. Allen. And there is scarcely 
 a doubt that your uncle pays him for his silence, for I am told 
 he is living in Frederick in a manner far above what he 
 gets from the parish. However, Philip has given us some- 
 thing more to work on. It may be that he can put hands 
 on the messenger." 
 
 I rose to go. 
 
 " We shall bring them to earth yet, Eichard, and I live," 
 he added. *' And I have always meant to ask you whether 
 you ever regretted your decision in taking Gordon's Pride." 
 
 "And you live, sir ! " I exclaimed, not heeding the question. 
 
 He smiled somewhat sadly. 
 
 " Of one thing I am sure, my lad," he continued, " which is 
 that I have had no regrets about taking you. Mr. Bordley 
 has just been here, and tells me you are the ablest young man 
 in the province. You see that more eyes than mine are 
 upon you. You have proved yourself a man, Richard, and 
 
 438
 
 MULTUM m PARVO 439 
 
 there are very few macaronies would have done as you did. I 
 am resolved to add another little mite to your salary." 
 
 The " little luite " was of such a substantial nature that I 
 protested strongly against it. I thought of Tom's demands 
 upon him. 
 
 " I could afford to give you double for what you have made 
 off the place," he interrupted. " But I do not believe in 
 young men having too much." He sighed, and turned to his 
 work. 
 
 I hesitated. "You have spent time and labour upon my 
 case, sir, and have asked no fee." 
 
 "I shall speak of the fee when I win it," he said dryly, 
 " and not before. How would you like to be clerk this win- 
 ter to the Committee of Correspondence ? " 
 
 I suppose my pleasure was expressed in my face. 
 
 " Well," said he, " I have got you the appointment without 
 much difficulty. There are many ways in which you can be 
 useful to the party when not helping me with my affairs." 
 
 This conversation gave me food for reflection during a week. 
 I was troubled about Mr. Swain, and what he had said as to 
 not living kept running in my head as I wrote or figured. For 
 I had enough to hold me busy. 
 
 In the meantime, the clouds fast gathering on both sides of 
 the Atlantic grew blacker, and blacker still. I saw a great 
 change in Annapolis. Men of aifairs went about with grave 
 faces, while gay and sober alike were touched b}' the spell. The 
 Tory gentry, to be sure, rattled about in their gilded mahogany 
 coaches, in spite of jeers and sour looks. My Aunt Caroline 
 wore jewelled stomachers to the assemblies, — now become dry 
 and shrivelled entertainments. She kept her hairdresser, had 
 three men in livery to her chair, and a little negro in Turk's 
 costume to wait on her. I often met her in the streets, and 
 took a fierce joy in staring her in the eye. And Grafton ! By 
 a sort of fate I was continually running against him. He was 
 a very busy man, was my uncle, and had a kind of dignified 
 run, which he used between Marlboro' Street and the Council 
 Chamber in the Stadt House, or the Governor's mansion. He 
 never did me the honour to glance at me. The Rev. Mr. Allen,
 
 440 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 too, came a-visiting from Frederick, where he had grown stout 
 as an alderman upon the living and its perquisites and Graf- 
 ton's additional bounty. The gossips were busy with his 
 doings, for he had his travelling-coach and servant now. He 
 went to the Tory balls with my aunt. Once I all but encoun- 
 tered him on the Circle, but he ran into Northeast Street to 
 avoid me. 
 
 Yes, that was the winter when the wise foresaw the inevita- 
 ble, and the first sharp split occurred between men who had 
 been brothers. The old order of things had plainly passed, 
 and I was truly thankful that my grandfather had not lived to 
 witness those scenes. The greater part of our gentry stood 
 firm for America's rights, and they had behind them the best 
 lawyers in America. After the lawyers came the small planters 
 and most of the mechanics. The shopkeepers formed the back- 
 bone of King G eorge's adherents ; the Tory gentry, the clergy, 
 and those holding office under the proprietor made the rest. 
 
 And it was all about tea, a word which, since '67, had been 
 steadily becoming the most vexed in the language. The East 
 India Company had put forth a complaint. They had 
 Heaven knows how many tons getting stale in London ware- 
 houses, all by reason of our stubbornness, and so it was enacted 
 that all tea paying the small American tax should have a 
 rebate of the English duties. That was truly a master-stroke, 
 for Parliament to give it us cheaper than it could be had at 
 home ! To cause his Majesty's government to lose revenues 
 for the sake of being able to say they had caught and taxed us 
 at last ! The happy result is now history, my dears. And this 
 is not a history, tho' I wish it were. What occurred at Bos- 
 ton, at Philadelphia, and Charleston, has since caused English- 
 men, as well as Americans, to feel proud. The chief incident 
 in Annapolis I shall mention in another chapter. 
 
 When it became known with us that several cargoes were on 
 their way to the colonies, excitement and indignation gained 
 a pitch not reached since the Stamp Act. Business came to a 
 standstill, plantations lay idle, and gentry and farmers flocked to 
 Annapolis, and held meetings and made resolutions anew. On 
 ray way of a morning from Mr. Swain's house to his chambers
 
 MULTUM IN PARVO 441 
 
 in the Circle I would meet as many as a dozen knots of people. 
 Mr. Claude was one of the few patriots who reaped reward out 
 of the disturbance, for his inn was crowded. The Assembly 
 met, appointed committees to correspond with the other colo- 
 nies, and was prorogued once and again. Many a night I 
 sat up until the small hours copying out letters to the 
 committees of Virginia, and Pennsylvania, and Massachusetts. 
 The gentlemen were wont to dine at the Coffee House, and I 
 would sit near the foot of the table, taking notes of their plans. 
 'Twas so I met many men of distinction from the other colo- 
 nies. Colonel Washington came once. He was grown a greater 
 man than ever, and I thought him graver than when I had last 
 seen him. I believe a trait of this gentleman was never to 
 forget a face. 
 
 " How do you, Richard ? " said he. How I reddened when 
 he called me so before all the committee. "I have heard your 
 story, and it does you vast credit. And the gentlemen tell me 
 you are earning laurels, sir." 
 
 That first winter of the tea troubles was cold and wet with 
 us, and the sun, as if in sympathy with the times, rarely 
 showed his face. Early in February our apprehensions con- 
 cerning Mr, Swain's health were realized. One day, without 
 a word to any one, he went to his bed, where Patty found him. 
 And I ran all the way to Dr. Leiden's. The doctor looked at 
 him, felt his pulse and his chest, and said nothing. But he 
 did not rest that night, nor did Patty or I. 
 
 Thus I came to have to do with the good barrister's private 
 affairs. I knew that he was a rich man, as riches went in our 
 province, but I had never tried to guess at his estate. I con- 
 fess the sums he had paid out in Tom's behalf frightened me. 
 With the advice of Mr. Bordley and Mr. Lloyd I managed his 
 money as best I could, but by reason of the non-importation 
 resolutions there was little chance for good investments, — no 
 cargoes coming and few going. I saAv, indeed, that buying the 
 Talbot estate had been a fortunate step, since the quantities of 
 wheat we grew there might be disposed of in America. 
 
 When Dr. Leiden was still coming twice a day to Glouces- 
 ter Street. Mr. Tom must needs get into a scrape with one
 
 442 EICHARD CAKVEL 
 
 of tlie ladies of tlie theatre, and come to me in tlie Ciicle 
 chambers for one hundred pounds. I told him, in despair, that 
 I had no authority to pay out his father's money. 
 
 "And so you have become master, sure enough!" he cried, 
 m a passion. For he was desperate. " Yovi have worked your 
 way in vastly well, egad, with your Whig committee meetings 
 and speeches. And now he is on his back, and you have pos- 
 session, you choose to cut me oft'. 'Slife, I know what will be 
 coming next ! " 
 
 I pulled him into Mr. Swain's private room, Avhere we 
 would be free of the clerks. 
 
 " Yes, I am master here," I replied, sadly enough, as he 
 stood sullenly before me. ''I should think you Avould be 
 ashamed to own it. When I came to your father I was con- 
 tent to be overseer in Talbot, and thankful for his bounty. 
 'Tis no fault of mine, but your disgrace, that his son is not 
 managing his business, and supporting him in the rights of his 
 country. I am not very old, Tom. A year older than you, I 
 believe. But I have seen enough of life to prophesy your end 
 and you do not reform." 
 
 " We are turned preacher," he says, with a sneer. 
 
 " God forbid ! But I have been in a sponging-house, and 
 tasted the lowest dregs. And if this country becomes free, 
 as I think it will some day such as you will be driven to 
 England, and die in the Fleet.'' 
 
 ''Not while my father lives," retorts he, and throws aside 
 the oiled silk cape with a London name upon it. The day was 
 rainy. 
 
 I groaned. My responsibility lay heavy upon me. And 
 this was not my first scene with him. He continued dog- 
 gedly : — 
 
 " You have no right to deny me what is not yours. 'Twill 
 be mine one day." 
 
 " You have no right to accuse me of thoughts that do not 
 occur to men of honour," I replied. " 1 am slower to anger 
 than I once was, but I give you warning now. Do you know 
 that you will ruin your father in another year and you 
 continue ? "
 
 MULTUM IN PARVO 443 
 
 He gave me no answer. I reached for the ledger, and turn 
 ing the pages, called off to him the sums he had spent. 
 
 " Oh, have done, d — n it ! " he cried, when I was not a third 
 through. " Are you or are you not to give me the money ? " 
 
 " And you are to spend it upon an actress ? " I should have 
 called her by a worse name. 
 
 " Actress ! " he shouted. " Have you seen her in The 
 Orphan ? My soul, she is a divinity ! " Then he shifted 
 suddenly to whining and cringing. " I am ruined outright, 
 Richard, if I do not get it." 
 
 Abjectly he confessed the situation, which had in it enough 
 material for a scandal to set the town wagging for a month. 
 And the weight of it would fall, as I well knew, upon those 
 who deserved it least. 
 
 " I will lend you the money, or, rather, will pay it for you," 
 I said, at last. For I was not so foolish as to put it into 
 his hands. " You shall have the sum under certain condi- 
 tions." 
 
 He agreed to them before they were out of my mouth, and 
 swore in a dozen ways that he would repay me every farthing. 
 He was heartily tired of the creature, and, true to his nature, 
 afraid of her. That night when the play was over I went to 
 her lodging, and after a scene too distressing to dwell upon, 
 bought her off. 
 
 I sat with Mr. Swain many an hour that spring, with Patty 
 sewing at the window open to the garden. Often, as we talked, 
 unnoticed by her father she would drop her work and the tears 
 glisten in her eyes. For the barrister's voice was not as strong 
 as it once was, and the cold would not seem to lift from his 
 chest. So this able man, who might have sat in the seats of 
 Maryland's high reward, was stricken when he was needed 
 most. 
 
 He was permitted two visitors a day : now 'twas l\Ir. Carroll 
 and Colonel Lloyd, again Colonel Tilghman and Captain Clap- 
 saddle, or Mr. Paca and Mr. Bordley. The gentlemen took 
 turns, and never was their business so pressing that they 
 missed their hour. Mr. Swain read all the prints, and on his 
 easier days would dictate to me his views for the committee.
 
 444 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 or a letter signed Brutus for Mr. Green to put in the Gazette, 
 So I became his mouthpiece at the meetings, and learned to 
 formulate my thoughts and to speak clearly. 
 
 For fear of confusing this narrative, my dears, I have referred 
 but little to her who was in my thoughts night and day, and 
 whose locket I wore, throughout all those years, next my heart. 
 I used to sit out under the stars at Gordon's Pride, with the 
 river lapping at my feet, and picture her the shining centre of 
 all the brilliant scenes I had left, and wonder if she still 
 thought of me. 
 
 Nor have I mentioned that faithful correspondent, and more 
 faithful friend. Lord Comyn. As soon as ever I had obtained 
 from Captain Daniel my mother's little inheritance, I sent off 
 the debt 1 owed his Lordship. 'Twas a year before I got him 
 to receive it ; he despatched the money back once, saying that 
 I had more need of it than he. I smiled at this, for my Lord 
 was never within his income, and I made no doubt he had 
 signed a note to cover my indebtedness. 
 
 Every letter Comyn writ me was nine parts Dolly, and 
 the rest of his sheet usually taken up with Mr. Fox and his 
 calamities : these had fallen upon him very thick of late. Lord 
 Holland had been forced to pay out a hundred thousand pounds 
 for Charles, and even this enormous sum did not entirely free 
 Mr. Fox from the discounters and the hounds. The reason 
 for this sudden onslaught was the birth of a boy to his brother 
 Stephen, who was heir to the title. " When they told Charles 
 of it," Comyn wrote, " said he, coolly : * My brother Ste's son is 
 a second Messiah, born for the destruction of the Jews.' " 
 
 I saw no definite signs, as yet, of the conversion of this 
 prodigy, which I so earnestl}^ hoped for. He had quarrelled 
 with North, lost his place on the Admiralty, and presently the 
 King had made him a Lord of the Treasury, tho' more out of 
 fear than love. Once in a while, when he saw Comyn at Al- 
 mack's, he would desire to be remembered to me, and he 
 always spoke of me with affection. But he could be got to 
 write to no one, said my Lord, with kind exaggeration ; nor 
 will he receive letters, for fear he may get a dun.
 
 MULTUM IN PAPvVO 445 
 
 Alas, I got no message from Dorothy ! Nor had she ever 
 mentioned my name to Comyn. He had not seen her for eight 
 months after I left England, as she had been taken to the 
 Continent for her health. She came back to London more 
 ravishing than before, and (I nse his Lordship's somewhat ex- 
 travagant language) her suffering had stamped upon her face 
 even more of character and power. She had lost much of her 
 levity, likewise. In short, my Lord declared, she was more of 
 the queen than ever, and the mystery which hung over the 
 Vauxhall duel had served only to add to her fame. 
 
 Dorothy having become cognizant of Mr. Marmaduke's trick- 
 ery, Chartersea seemed to have dropped out of the race. He 
 now spent his time very evenly between Spa and Derresley and 
 Paris. Hence I had so much to be thankful for, — that with 
 all my blunders, I had saved her from his Grace. My Lord 
 the Marquis of Wells was now most conspicuous amongst her 
 suitors. Comyn had nothing particular against this nobleman, 
 saying that he was a good fellow, with a pretty fortune. And 
 here is a letter, my dears, in which he figures, that I brought 
 to Gordon's Pride that spring : — 
 
 " 10 South Parade, Bath, 
 March 12, 1774. 
 
 " Dkar Richard : — Miss Manners has come to Bath, with 
 a train behind her longer than that which followed good Queen 
 Anne hither, when she made this Gehenna the fashion. Her 
 triumphal entry last Wednesday was announced by such a peal 
 of the abbey bells as inust have cracked the metal (for they 
 have not rung since) and started Beau Nash a-cursing where 
 he lies under the floor. Next came her serenade by the band. 
 Mr. Marmaduke swore they would never have done, and 
 sqviirmed and grinned like Punch when he thought of the fee, — 
 for he had hoped to get off with a crown, I warrant you. You 
 should have seen his face when they would accept no fee at 
 all for the beauty ! Some wag has writ a verse about it, which 
 was printed, and has set the whole pump-room laughing this 
 morning. 
 
 " She was led out by Wells in the Seaso7is last night. As Spring
 
 446 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 she is too bewildering for my pen, — all primrose and white; 
 with the flowers in her blue-black hair. Had Sir Joshua seen 
 her, he would never rest content till he should have another 
 portrait. The Due de Lauzun, who contrived to get two 
 dances, might give you a description in a more suitable lan- 
 guage than English. And there was a prodigious deal of jeal- 
 ousy among the fair ones on the benches, you may be sure, and 
 much jaundiced comment. 
 
 " Some half dozen of us adorers have a mess at the Bear, and 
 have offered up a prize for the most appropriate toast on the 
 beauty. This is in competition with Mrs. Miller. Have you 
 not heard of her among yonr tobacco-hills ? Horry calls her 
 Mrs. 'Calliope' Miller. At her place near here, Bath Easton 
 Villa, she has set up a Roman vase bedecked with myrtle, and 
 into this we drop our bouts-rimes. Mrs. Calliope has a ball every 
 Thursday, when the victors are crowned. T'other day the 
 theme was -A Buttered Muflfin,' and her Grace of Northum- 
 berland was graciously awarded the prize. In faith, that theme 
 taxed our wits at the Bear, — how to weave Miss Dolly's 
 charms into a verse on a buttered muflfin. I shall not tire you 
 with mine. Storer's deserved to win, and we whisper that Mrs. 
 Calliope ruled it out through spite. ' When Phyllis eats,' so it 
 began, and I vow 'twas devilish ingenious. 
 
 " We do nothing but play lasquenet and tennis, and go to the 
 assembly, and follow Miss Dolly into Gill's, the pastry-cook's, 
 where she goes every morning to take a jelly. The ubiquitous 
 Wells does not give us much chance. He writes ^Jers de societe 
 with the rest, is high in Mr. Marmaduke's favour, which alone 
 is enough to damn his progress. I think she is ill of the sight 
 of him. 
 
 "Albeit she does not mourn herself into a tree, I'll take oath 
 
 your Phyllis is true to you, Richard, and would live with you 
 
 gladly in a thatched hut and you asked her. Write me more 
 
 news of yourself. ,, ^^ „, ^. , 
 
 '' "Your ever aftectionate ^ 
 
 " COMYN. 
 
 "P.S. I have had news of you through Mr. Worthington, of 
 your colony, who is just arrived here.. He tells me that you
 
 MULTUM IN PARVO 447 
 
 have gained a vast reputation for your plantation, and likewise 
 that you are thought much of by the Whig wiseacres, and that 
 you hold many seditious offices. He does not call them so. 
 Since your modesty will not permit you to write me any of 
 these things, I have been imagining you driving slaves with a 
 rawhide, and sending runaway convicts to the mines. Mr. W. 
 is even now paying his respects to JMiss Manners, and I doubt 
 not trumpeting your praises there, for he seems to like you. So 
 I have asked him to join the Bear mess. One more unfortu- 
 nate ! 
 
 "P.S. I was near forgetting the news about Charles Fox. 
 He sends you his love, and tells me to let you know that he has 
 been turned out of North's house for good and all. He is sure 
 you will be cursed happy over it, and says that you predicted 
 he would go over to the Whigs. I can scarce believe that he 
 will. North took a whole week to screw up iiis courage, h — s 
 M — j — sty pricking him every day. And then be wrote this : 
 'Sir, his Majesty has thought proper to order a new Commis- 
 sion of the Treasury to be made out, in which I do not see your 
 name.' Poor Charles ! He is now without money or place, but 
 as usual appears to worry least of all of us, and still reads his 
 damned Tasso for amusement. 
 
 "C." 
 
 Perchance he was to be the Saint Paul of English politics, 
 after all.
 
 CHAPTER XLIX 
 
 LIBERTY LOSES A FRIEND 
 
 Mr. Bordley's sloop took Mr. Swain to Gordon's Pride in 
 May, and placed him in the big room overlooking the widening 
 river. There he would lie all day long, staring through the 
 leaves at the water, or listening to the sweet music of his 
 daughter's voice as she read from the pompous prints of the 
 time. Gentlemen continued to come to the plantation, for 
 the barrister's wisdom was sorely missed at the councils. 
 One day, as I rode in from the field, I found Colonel Lloyd 
 just arrived from Philadelpliia, sipping sangaree on the lawn 
 and mopping himself with his handkerchief. His jolly face 
 was troubled. He waved his hand at me. 
 
 "Well, Richard," says he, "we children are to have our 
 first whipping. At least one of us. And the rest are resolved 
 to defy our parent." 
 
 "Boston, Mr. Lloyd?" I asked. 
 
 "Yes, Boston," he replied; "her port is closed, and we are 
 forbid any intercourse with her nntil she comes to her senses. 
 And her citizens must receive his gracious Majesty's troopers 
 into their houses. And if a man kill one of them by any 
 chance, he is to go to England to be tried. And there is more 
 quite as bad." 
 
 " 'Tis bad enough!" I cried, flinging myself down. And 
 Patty gave me a glass in silence. 
 
 "Ay, but you must hear all," said he; "our masters are of 
 a mind to do the thing thoroughly. Canada is given some 
 score of privileges. Her French Roman Catholics, whom we 
 fought not long since, are thrown a sop, and those vast terri- 
 tories between the lakes and the Ohio and Mississippi are 
 
 448
 
 LIBERTY LOSES A FRIEND 449 
 
 given to Quebec as a price for her fidelity. And so, if the 
 worst comes to worst, George's regiments will have a place to 
 land against us." 
 
 Such was the news, and though we were some hundreds of 
 miles from Massachusetts, we felt their cause as our own. 
 There was no need of the appeal which came by smoking 
 horses from Philadelphia, for the indignation of our people 
 was roused to the highest pitch. Now Mr. Swain had to take 
 to his bed from the excitement. 
 
 This is not a history, my dears, as I have said. And time 
 is growing short. I shall pass over that dreary summer of 
 '74. It required no very keen eye to see the breakers ahead, 
 and Mr. Bordley's advice to provide against seven years of 
 famine did not go unheeded. War was the last thing we 
 desired. We should have been satisfied with so little, we 
 colonies! And would have voted the duties ten times over 
 had our rights been respected. Should any of you doubt this, 
 you have but to read the " Address to the King " of our Con- 
 gress, then sitting in Philadelphia. The quarrel was so petty, 
 and so easy of mending, that you of this generation may won- 
 der why it was allowed to run. I have tried to tell you that 
 the head of a stubborn, selfish, and wilful monarch blocked 
 the way to reconciliation. King George the Third is alone to 
 blame for that hatred of race against race which already hath 
 done so much evil. And I pray God that a great historian 
 may arise whose pen will reveal the truth, and reconcile at 
 lensrth those who arfi- arid sliould be, brothers. 
 
 By October, that most beautiful month of all the year in 
 Maryland, we were again in Annapolis. One balmy day — 
 'twas a Friday, I believe, and a gold and blue haze hung over 
 the Severn — Mr. Chase called in Gloucester Street to give 
 the barrister news of the Congress, which he had lately left. 
 As he came down the stairs he paused for a word with me in 
 the library, and remarked sadly upon Mr. Swain's condition. 
 "He looks like a dying man, Richard," said he, "and we can 
 ill afford to lose him." 
 
 Even as we sat talking in subdued tones, the noise of a dis- 
 tant commotion arose. We had scarce started to our feet, 
 2o
 
 450 EICHARD CARVEL 
 
 Mr, Chase and I, when the brass knocker resounded, and Mr. 
 Hammond was let in. His wig was awry, and his face was 
 flushed. 
 
 ''I thought to find you here," he said to Mr. Chase. "The 
 Anne Arundel Committee is to meet at once, and we desire to 
 have you with us." Perceiving our blank faces, he added: 
 " The Peggy Stewart is in this morning with over a ton of tea 
 aboard, consigned to the Williams's." 
 
 The two jumped into a chaise, and I followed afoot, stopped 
 at every corner by some excited acquaintance ; so that I had 
 the whole story, and more, ere I reached Church Street. 
 The way was blocked before the committee rooms, and 'twas 
 said that the merchants, Messrs. Williams, and Captain Jack- 
 son of the brig, were within, pleading their cause. 
 
 Presently the news leaked abroad that Mr. Anthony Stewart, 
 the brig's owner, had himself paid the duty on the detested 
 plant. Some hundreds of people were elbowing each other in 
 the street, for the most part quiet and anxious, until Mr. 
 Hammond appeared and whispered to a man at the door. In 
 all my life before I had never heard the hum of an angry 
 crowd. The sound had something ominous in it, like the first 
 moanings of a wind that is to break off great trees at their 
 trunks. Then some one shouted: "To Hanover Street! To 
 Hanover Street! We'll have him tarred and feathered before 
 the sun is down! " The voice sounded strangely like Weld's. 
 They charged at this cry like a herd of mad buffalo, the 
 weaker ones trampled under foot or thrust against the wall. 
 The windows of Mr. Aikman's shop were shattered. I ran 
 with the leaders, my stature and strength standing me in good 
 stead more than once, and as we twisted into Northwest Street 
 I took a glance at the mob behind me, and great was my 
 anxiety at not being able to descry one responsible person. 
 
 Mr. Stewart's house stood, and stands to-day, amid trim 
 gardens, in plain sight of the Severn. Arriving there, the 
 crowd massed in front of it, some of the boldest pressing in at 
 the gate and spreading over the circle of lawn enclosed by the 
 driveway. They began to shout hoarsely, with what voices 
 they had left, for Mr. Stewart to come out, calling him names
 
 LIBERTY LOSES A FRIEND 451 
 
 not to be spoken, and swearing they would show him how 
 traitors were to be served. I understood then the terror of 
 numbers, and shuddered. A chandler, a bold and violent 
 man, whose leather Avas covered with grease, already had his 
 foot on the steps, when the frightened servants slammed the 
 door in his face, and closed the lower windows. In vain I 
 strained ray eyes for some one who might have authority with 
 them. They began to pick up stones, though none were 
 thrown. 
 
 Suddenly a figure appeared at an upper Avindow, — a thin 
 and wasted woman dressed in white, Avith sad, sweet features. 
 It was Mrs. Stewart. Without flinching she looked down upon 
 the upturned faces; but a mob of that kind has no pity. Their 
 leaders Avere the Avorst class in our province, being mostly 
 convicts Avho had served their terms of indenture. Tliey con- 
 tinued to call sullenly for "the traitor." Then the house door 
 opened, and the master himself appeared. He was pale and 
 nervous, and no Avonder; and his voice shook as he strove to 
 make himself heard. His words Avere drowned immediately 
 by shouts of "Seize him! Seize the d — d traitor!" "A 
 pot and a coat of hot tar ! " 
 
 Those who were nearest started forward, and I Avith them. 
 With me 'twas the decision of an instant. I beat the chand- 
 ler up the steps, and took stand in front of the merchant, 
 and I called out to them to fall back. 
 
 To my astonishment they halted. The skirts of the crowd 
 were noAV come to the foot of the little porch. I faced them 
 with my hand on Mr. Stewart's arm, without a thought of 
 what to do next, and expecting violence. There was a second's 
 hush. Then some one cried out : — 
 
 "Three cheers for Richard Carvel! " 
 
 They gave them with a Avill that dumfounded me. 
 
 "My friends," said I, when I had got my Avits, "this is 
 neither the justice nor the moderation for which our province 
 is noted. You have elected your committee of your free Avills, 
 and they have claims before you." 
 
 " Ay, ay, the committee ! " they shouted^ " Mr. Carvel is 
 right. Take him to the Committee! "
 
 452 EICHARD CARVEL 
 
 Mr. Stewart raised his hand. 
 
 "My friends," he began, as I had done, "when you have 
 learned the truth, you will not be so hasty to blame me for an 
 offence of which I am innocent. The tea was not for me. 
 The brig was in a leaky and dangerous state and had fifty souls 
 aboard her. I paid the duty out of humanity — " 
 
 He had come so far, when they stopped him. 
 
 "Oh, a vile Tory!" they shouted. "He is conniving with 
 the Council. 'Twas put up between them." And they fol- 
 lowed this with another volley of hard names, until I feared 
 that his chance was gone. 
 
 "You would best go before the Committee, Mr. Stewart," I 
 said. 
 
 "I will go with Mr. Carvel, my friends," he cried at once. 
 And he invited me into the house whilst he ordered his coach. 
 I preferred to remain outside. 
 
 I asked them if they would trust me with Mr. Stewart to 
 Church Street. 
 
 "Yes, yes, Mr. Carvel, we know you," said several. "He 
 has good cause to hate Tories," called another, with a laugh. 
 I knew the voice. 
 
 "For shame. Weld," I cried. And I saw McNeir, who was 
 a stanch friend of mine, give him a cuff to send him spinning. 
 
 To my vast satisfaction they melted away, save only a few 
 of the idlest spirits, who hung about the gate, and cheered as 
 we drove off. Mr. Stewart was very nervous, and profuse in 
 his gratitude. I replied that I had acted only as would have 
 any other responsible citizen. On the way he told me enough 
 of his case to convince me that there was much to be said on 
 his Side, but I thought it the better part of wisdom not to 
 commit myself. The street in front of the committee rooms 
 was empty, and I was informed that a town meeting had been 
 called immediately at the theatre in West Street. And I 
 advised Mr. Stewart to attend. But throiigh anxiety or anger, 
 or both, he was determined not to go, and drove back to his 
 house without me. 
 
 I had got as far as St. Anne's, halfway to the theatre, when 
 it suddenly struck me that Mr. Swain must be waiting for
 
 LIBERTY LOSES A FRIEND 453 
 
 news. Witli a twinge I remembered what Mr. Chase had said 
 about the barrister's condition, and I hurried back to Glouces- 
 ter Street, much to the surprise of those I met on their way 
 to the meeting. I was greatly relieved, when I arrived, to 
 find Patty on the porch. I knew she had never been there 
 were her father worse. After a word with her and her mother, 
 I went up the stairs. 
 
 It was the liour for the barrister's nap. But he was awake, 
 lying back on the pillows, with his eyes half closed. He was 
 looking out into the garden, which was part orchard, now be- 
 ginning to shrivel and to brown with the first touch of frosts. 
 
 "That is you, Richard?" he inquired, without moving. 
 "What is going forward to-day?" 
 
 I toned down the news, so as not to excite him, and left out 
 the occurrence in Hanover Street. He listened with his ac- 
 customed interest, but when I had done he asked no questions, 
 and lay for a long time silent. Then he begged me to bring 
 my chair nearer. 
 
 "Richard, — my son," said he, with an evident effort, "I 
 have never thanked you for your devotion to me and mine 
 through the best years of your life. It shall not go unre- 
 warded, my lad." 
 
 It seemed as if my heart stood still with the presage of what 
 was to come. 
 
 "May God reward you, sir! " I said. 
 
 "I have wished to speak to you," he continued, "and I may 
 not have another chance. I have arranged with Mr. Carroll, 
 the barrister, to take your cause against your uncle, so that 
 you will lose nothing when I am gone. And you will see, in 
 my table in the library, that I have left my property in your 
 hands, with every confidence in your integrity, and ability to 
 care for my family, even as I should have done." 
 
 I could not speak at once. A lump rose in my throat, for 
 I had come to look upon him as a father. His honest dealings, 
 his charity, of which the world knew nothing, and his plain 
 and unassuming ways had inspired in me a kind of worship. 
 I answered, as steadily as I might : — 
 
 " I believe I am too inexperienced for such a responsibility,
 
 454 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 Mr. Swain. Would it not be better that Mr. Bordley or Mr. 
 Lloyd should act ? " 
 
 " No, no, " he said ; " I am not a man to do things unad- 
 visedly, or to let affection get the better of my judgment, 
 where others dear to me are concerned. I know you, Richard 
 Carvel. Scarce an action of yours has escaped my eye, though 
 I have said nothing. You have been through the fire, and are 
 of the kind which comes out untouched. You will have Judge 
 Bordley' s advice, and Mr. Carroll's. And they are too busy 
 with the affairs of the province to be burdened as my executors. 
 But," he added a little more strongly, "if what I fear is com- 
 ing, Mr. Bordley will take the trust in your absence. If we 
 have war, Richard, you will not be content to remain at home, 
 nor would I wish it." 
 
 I did not reply. 
 
 "You will do what I ask ?" he said. 
 
 "I would refuse you nothing, Mr. Swain," I answered. 
 "But I have heavy misgivings." 
 
 He sighed. " And now, if it were not for Tom, I might die 
 content," he said. 
 
 If it were not for Tom ! The full burden of the trust began 
 to dawn upon me then. Presently I heard him speaking, but 
 in so low a voice that I hardly caught the words. 
 
 "In our youth, Richard," he was saying, "the wrath of the 
 Almighty is but so many words to most of us. Wlien I was 
 little more than a lad, I committed a sin of which I tremble 
 now to think. And I was the fool to imagine, when I amended 
 my life, that God had forgotten. His punishment is no heavier 
 than I deserve. But He alone knows what He has made me 
 suffer." 
 
 I felt that I had no right to be there. 
 
 "That is why I have paid Tom's debts," he continued; " I 
 cannot cast off my son. I have reasoned, implored, and 
 appealed in vain. He is like Reuben, — his resolutions melt 
 in an hour. And I have pondered day and night what is to 
 be done for him." 
 
 "Is he to have his portion?" I asked. Indeed, the thought 
 of the responsibility of Tom Swain overwhelmed me.
 
 LIBERTY LOSES A FRIEND 455 
 
 "Yes, he is to have it," cried Mr. Swain, with a violence to 
 bring on a fit of coughing. " Were I to leave it in trust for a 
 time, he would have it mortgaged within a year. He is to 
 have his portion, but not a penny additional." 
 
 He lay for a long time breathing deeply, I watching him. 
 Then, as he reached out and took my hand, I knew by some 
 instinct what was to come. I summoned all my self-command 
 to meet his eye. I knew that the malicious and unthinking 
 gossip of the town had reached him, and that he had received 
 it in the simple faith of his hopes. 
 
 "One thing more, my lad," he said, "the dearest wish of 
 all — that you will marry Patty. She is a good girl, Richard. 
 And I have thought," he added with hesitation, "I have 
 thought that she loves you, though her lips have never opened 
 on that subject." 
 
 So the blow fell. I tarned away, for to save my life 
 the words would not come. He missed the reason of my 
 silence. 
 
 " I understand and honour your scruples," he went on. His 
 kindness was like a knife. 
 
 "No, I have had none, Mr. Swain," I exclaimed. For I 
 would not be thought a hypocrite. 
 
 There I stopped. A light step sounded in the hall, and 
 Patty came in upon us. Her colour at once betrayed her 
 understanding. To my infinite relief her father dropped my 
 fingers, and asked cheerily if there was any news from the 
 town meeting. 
 
 On the folloAving Wednesday, with her flag flying and her 
 sails set, the Peggy Steioart was run ashore on Windmill Point. 
 She rose, a sacrifice to Liberty, in smoke to heaven, before 
 the assembled patriots of our city. 
 
 That very night a dear friend to Liberty passed away. He 
 failed so suddenly that Patty had no time to call for aid, 
 and when the mother had been carried in, his spirit was 
 flown. We laid him high on the hill above the creek, in 
 the new lot he had bought and fenced around. The stone re- 
 mains : —
 
 456 EICHARD CARVEL 
 
 HERE LIETH 
 
 HENRY SWAIN, Bakristkr. 
 Born May 13, 1730 (O.S.) ; 
 
 Died October 19, 1774. 
 Fidus Amicis atque Patrice. 
 
 The gimple inscription, wliich speaks volumes to those who 
 knew him, was cut after the Eevolution. He was buried with 
 the honours of a statesman, which he would have been had 
 Grod spared him to serve the New Country which was born so 
 soon after his death.
 
 CHAPTER L 
 
 FAREWELL TO GORDOn's 
 
 I CANNOT bear to recall my misery of mind after Mr. Swain'a 
 death. One hope had lightened all the years of my servitude. 
 For, when I examined my soul, I knew that it was for Dorothy 
 I had laboured. And every letter that came from Comyn tell- 
 ing me she was still free gave me new heart for my work. By 
 some mystic communion — I know not what — I felt that she 
 loved me yet, and despite distance and degree. I would wake 
 of a morning with the knowledge of it, and be silent for half 
 the day with some particle of a dream in my head, lingering 
 like the burden of a song with its train of memories. 
 
 So, in the days that followed, I scarce knew myself. For 
 a while (I shame to write it) I avoided that sweet woman who 
 had made my comfort her care, whose father had taken me 
 when I was homeless. The good in me cried out, but the flesh 
 rebelled. 
 
 Poor Patty! Her grief for her father was pathetic to see. 
 Weeks passed in which she scarcely spoke a word. And I 
 remember her as she sat in church Sundays, the whiteness of 
 her face enhanced by the crape she wore, and a piteous appeal 
 in her gray eyes. My own agony was nigh be^^ond endurance, 
 my will swinging like a pendulum from right to wrong, and 
 back again. Argue as I might that I had made the barrister 
 no promise, conscience allowed no difference. I was in de- 
 spair at the trick fate had played me ; at the decree that of all 
 women I must love her whose sphere was now so far removed 
 from mine. For Patty had character and beauty, and every 
 gift which goes to make man's happiness and to kindle his 
 affections. 
 
 457
 
 458 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 Her sorrow left her more womanly than ever. And aftei 
 the first sharp sting of it was deadened, I noticed a marked 
 reserve in her intercourse with me. I knew then that she 
 must have strong suspicions of her father's request. Speak I 
 could not soon after the sad event, but I strove hard that she 
 should see no change in my conduct. 
 
 Before Christmas we went to the Eastern Shore. In An- 
 napolis fife and drum had taken the place of fiddle and clarion ; 
 militia companies were drilling in the empty streets ; despatches 
 were arriving daily from the North; and grave gentlemen were 
 hurrying to meetings. But if the Avar was to come, I must 
 settle what was to be done at Gordon's Pride with all possible 
 speed. It was only a few days after our going there, that I 
 rode into Oxford with a black cockade in my hat Patty had 
 made me, and the army sword Captain Jack had given Captain 
 Daniel at my side. For I had been elected a lieutenant in the 
 Oxford company, of which Percy Singleton was captain. 
 
 So passed that winter, the darkest of my life. One soft 
 spring day, when the birds Avere twittering amid neAV-borji 
 leaves, and the hyacinths and tulips in Patty's garden Avere 
 coming to their glory, Master Tom rode leisurely down the 
 drive at Gordon's Pride. That was a Saturday, the 29th of 
 April, 1775. The news Avhich had flown southward, night 
 and day alike, was in no hurry to run off his tongue; he had 
 been lolling on the porch for half an hour before he told us of 
 the bloodshed betw^een the minute-men of Massachusetts and 
 the British regulars, of the rout of Percy's panting redcoats 
 from Concord to Boston. Tom added, with the brutal non- 
 chalance AA^hich characterized his dealings Avith his mother 
 and sister, that he was on his way to Philadelphia to join a 
 company. 
 
 The poor invalid was carried up the stairs in a faint by 
 Banks and Romney. Patty, with pale face and lips com- 
 pressed, ran to fetch the hartshorn. But Master Tom re- 
 mained undisturbed. 
 
 "I suppose 3'ou are going, Richard," he remarked affably. 
 For he treated me Avith more consideration than his family. 
 "We shall ride together," said he.
 
 FAREWELL TO GORDON'S 459 
 
 "We ride diiferent ways, and to different destinations," I 
 replied dryly. " I go to serve my country, and you to fight 
 against it." 
 
 "I think the King is right," he answered sullenly. 
 
 "Oh, I beg your pardon," I remarked, and rose. "Then 
 you have studied the question since last I saw you." 
 
 "No, by G — d!" he cried, "and I never will. I do not 
 want to know your d — d principles — or grievances, or what- 
 ever they are. We were living an easy life, in the plenty of 
 money, and nothing to complain of. You take it all away, 
 with your cursed cant — " 
 
 I left him railing and swearing. And that was the last I 
 saw of Tom Swain. When I returned from a final survey of 
 the plantation, and a talk with Percy Singleton, he had ridden 
 North again. 
 
 I found Patty alone in the parlour. Her work (one of my 
 own stockings she was darning) lay idle in her lap, and in her 
 eyes were the unshed tears which are the greatest suffering of 
 women. I sat down beside her and called her name. She did 
 not seem to hear me. 
 
 "Patty!" 
 
 She started. And my courage ebbed. 
 
 "Are you going to the war — to leave us, Richard?" she 
 faltered. 
 
 "I fear there is no choice, Patty," I answered, striving hard 
 to keep my own voice steady. " But you will be well looked 
 after. Ivie Rawlinson is to be trusted, and Mr. Bordley has 
 promised to keep an eye upon you." 
 
 She took up the darning mechanically. 
 
 " I shall not speak a word to keep you, Richard. He would 
 have wished it," she said softly. "And every strong arm in 
 the colonies will be needed. We shall think of you, and pray 
 for you daily." 
 
 I cast about for a cheerful rej)ly. 
 
 "I think when they discover how determined we are, they 
 will revoke their measures in a hurry. Before you know it, 
 Patty, I shall be back again making the rounds in my broad 
 rim, and reading to you out of Captain Cook."
 
 460 EICHAUD CARVEL 
 
 It was a pitiful attempt. She shook her head sadly. The 
 tears were coine now, and she was smiling through them, 
 The sorrow of that smile ! 
 
 "I have something to say to you before I go, Patty," I said. 
 The words stuck. I knew that there must be no pretence in 
 that speech. It must be true as my life after, the consequence 
 of it. "I have something to ask you, and I do not speak 
 without your father's consent. Patty, if I return, will you 
 be my wife? " 
 
 The stocking slipped unheeded to the floor. Por a moment 
 she sat transfixed, save for the tumultuous swelling of her 
 breast. Then she turned and gazed earnestly into my face, 
 and the honesty of her eyes smote me. For the first time I 
 could not meet them honestly with my own. 
 
 "Richard, do you love me?" she asked. 
 
 I bowed my head. I could not answer that. And for a 
 while there was no sound save that of the singing of the frogs 
 in the distant marsh. 
 
 Presently I knew that she was standing at my side. I felt 
 her hand laid upon my shoulder. 
 
 "Is — is it Dorothy?" she said gently. 
 
 Still I could not answer. Truly, the bitterness of life, as 
 the joy of it, is distilled in strong drops. 
 
 "I knew," she continued, "I have known ever since that 
 autumn morning when I went to you as you saddled — when 
 I dreaded that you would leave us. Father asked you to 
 marry me, the day you took Mr. Stewart from the mob. How 
 could you so have misunderstood me, Richard?" 
 
 I looked up in wonder. The sweet cadence in her tone 
 sprang from a purity not of this earth. They alone who have 
 consecrated their days to others may utter it. And the light 
 upon her face was of the same source. It was no will of mine 
 brought me to my feet. But I was not worthy to touch her. 
 
 " I shall make another prayer, beside that for your safety, 
 Richard," she said. 
 
 In the morning she waved me a brave farewell from the 
 block where she had stood so often as I rode afield, when the
 
 FAKEWELL TO GORDON'S 461 
 
 dawn was in the sky. The invalid mother sat in her chair 
 within the door; the servants were gathered on the lawn, and 
 Ivie Eawlinson and Banks lingered where they had held my 
 stirrup. That picture is washed with my own tears. 
 
 The earth was praising God that Sunday as I rode to Mr. 
 Bordley's. And as it is sorrow which lifts us nearest to 
 heaven, I felt as if I were in church. 
 
 I arrived at Wye Island in season to dine with the good 
 judge and his family, and there I made over to his charge the 
 property of Patty and her mother. The afternoon we spent 
 in sober talk, Mr. Bordley giving me much sound advice, and 
 writing me several letters of recommendation to gentlemen in 
 Congress. His conduct was distinguished by even more of 
 kindness and consideration than he had been wont to show me. 
 
 In the evening I walked out alone, skirting the acres of 
 Carvel Hall, each familiar landmark touching the quick of 
 some memory of other days. Childhood habit drew me into 
 the path to Wilmot House. I came upon it just as the sun- 
 light was stretching level across the Chesapeake, and burning 
 its windows molten red. I had been sitting long on the stone 
 steps, when the gaunt figure of McAndrews strode toward me 
 out of the dusk. 
 
 "God be gude to us, it is Mr. Richard! " he cried. "I hae 
 na seen j'e're bonny face these muckle years, sir, syne ye cam' 
 back frae ae sight o' the young mistress." (I had met him in 
 Annapolis then.) "An' will ye be aff to the wars?" 
 
 I told him yes. That I had come for a last look at the old 
 place before I left. 
 
 He sighed, "Ye're vera welcome, sir." Then he added: 
 "Mr. Bordley's gi'en me a fair notion o' yere management at 
 Gordon's. The judge is thinking there'll be nane ither lad t' 
 hand a candle to ye." 
 
 "And what news do you hear from London?" I asked, cut- 
 ting him short. 
 
 "Ill uncos, sir," he answered, shaking his head with vio- 
 lence. He had indeed but a sorry tale for my ear, and one to 
 make my heart heavier than it was. McAndrews opened his 
 iOiind to me, and seemed the better for it. How Mr. Marma-
 
 462 RICHARD CARVEL | 
 
 duke was living with the establishment they wrote of was 
 more than the honest Scotchman could imagine. There was 
 a country place in Sussex now, said he, that was the latest. 
 And drafts were coming in before the wheat was in the ear; 
 and the plantations of tobacco on the Western Shore had been 
 idle since the non-exportation, and were mortgaged to their 
 limit to Mr. Willard. Money was even loaned on the Wilmot 
 House estate. McAndrews had a shrewd suspicion that neither 
 Mrs. Manners nor Miss Dorothy knew aught of this state of 
 affairs. 
 
 "Mr. Richard," he said earnestly, as he bade me good-by,"I 
 kennt Mr. Manners's mind when he lea'd here. There was a 
 laird in't, sir, an' a fortune. An' unless these come soon, 
 I'm thinking I can spae th' en'." 
 
 In truth, a much greater fool than McAndrews might have 
 predicted that end. 
 
 On Monday Judge Bordley accompanied me as far as Ding- 
 ley's tavern, and showed much emotion at parting. 
 
 " You need have no fears for your friends at Gordon's Pride, 
 Richard," said he. "And when the General comes back, I 
 shall try to give him a good account of my stewardship." 
 
 The General! That title brought old Stanwix's cobwebbfed 
 prophecy into my head again. Here, surely, was the war 
 which he had foretold, and I ready to embark in it. 
 
 Why not the sea, indeed?
 
 CHAPTER LI 
 
 HOW AN IDLE PROPHECY CAME TO PASS 
 
 Captain Clapsaddle not being at his lodgings, I rode on 
 to the Coffee House to put up my horse. I was stopped by 
 Mr. Claude. 
 
 " Why, Mr. Carvel," says he, " I thought you on the Eastern 
 Shore. There is a gentleman within will be mightily tickled 
 to see you, or else his protestations are lies, which they may 
 very well be. His name? Now, 'pon my faith, it was Jones 
 — no more." 
 
 This thing of being called for at the Coffee House stirred 
 up unpleasant associations. 
 
 "What appearance does the man make?" I demanded. 
 
 " Merciful gad ! " mine host exclaimed ; " once seen, never 
 forgotten, and once heard, never forgotten. He quotes me 
 Thomson, and he tells me of his estate in Virginia." 
 
 The answer was not of a sort to allay my suspicions. 
 
 " Then he appears to be a landowner ? " said I. 
 
 " 'Ods ! Blest if I know what he is, " says Mr. Claude. " He 
 may be anything, an impostor or a high-mightiness. But he's 
 something to strike the eye and hold it, for all his Quaker 
 clothes. He is swarth and thickset, and some live feet eight 
 inches — full six inches under your own height. And he 
 comes asking for you as if you owned the town between you. 
 ' Send a fellow to Marlboro' Street for Mr. Kichard Carvel, my 
 good host! ' says he, with a snap of his fingers. And when 
 I tell him the news of you, he is prodigiously affected, and 
 cries — but here's my gentleman now!" 
 
 I jerked my head around. Coming down the steps I beheld 
 my old friend and benefactor, Captain John Paul! 
 
 463
 
 464 RICHAED CARVEL 
 
 "Ahoy, ahoy! " cries he. "Now Heaven be praised, I have 
 found you at last." 
 
 Out of the saddle I leaped, and straight into his arms. 
 
 "Hold, hold, Richard!" he gasped. "My ribs, man! 
 Leave me some breath that I may tell you how glad I am to 
 see you." 
 
 "Mr. Jones!'" I said, holding him out, "now where the 
 devil got you that ? " 
 
 "Why, I am become a gentleman since I saw you," he an- 
 swered, smiling. " My poor brother left me his estate in Vir- 
 ginia. And a gentleman must have three names at the least." 
 
 I dropped his shoulders and shook with laughter. 
 
 "But Jones 1^' I cried. "'Ad's heart! could you go no 
 higher? Has your imagination left you, captain?" 
 
 "Republican simplicity, sir," says he, looking a trifle hurt. 
 But I laughed the more. 
 
 "Well, you have contrived to mix oil and vinegar," said I. 
 "A landed gentleman and republican simplicity. I'll warrant 
 you wear silk-knit under that gray homespun, and have a cameo 
 in your pocket." 
 
 He shook his head, looking up at me with affection. 
 
 "You might have guessed better," he answered. "All of 
 quality I have about me are an enamelled repeater and a gold 
 brooch." 
 
 This made me suddenly grave, for McAndrcAvs's words had 
 been ringing in my ears ever since he had spoken them. I 
 hitched my arm into the captain's and pulled him toward the 
 Coffee House door, 
 
 "Come," I said, "you have not dined, and neither have I. 
 We shall be merry to-day, and you shall have some of the best 
 Madeira in the colonies." I commanded a room, that we might 
 have privacy. As he took his seat opposite me I marked that 
 he had grown heavier and more browned. But his eye had 
 the same unfathomable mystery in it as of yore. And first I 
 upbraided him for not having writ me. 
 
 "I took you for one who glories in correspondence, captain," 
 said I; "and I did not think you could be so unfaithful. I 
 directed twice to you in Mr. Orchardson's care."
 
 HOW A PROPHECY CAME TO PASS 465 
 
 " Orchardson died before I had made one voyage," he re- 
 plied, " and the Betsy changed owners. But I did not forget 
 you, Richard, and was resolved but now not to leave Maryland 
 until I had seen you. But I burn to hear of you," he added. 
 " 1 have had an inkling of your story from the landlord. So 
 your grandfather is dead, and that blustie, your uncle, of whom 
 you told me on the John, is in possession." 
 
 He listened to my narrative keenly, but with many inter- 
 ruptions. And when I was done, he sighed. 
 
 "You are always finding friends, Richard," said he; "no 
 matter what your misfortunes, they are ever double discounted. 
 As for me, I am like Fulmer in Mr. Cumberland's 'West 
 Indian': 'I have beat through every quarter of the compass; 
 I have bellowed for freedom; I have offered to serve my 
 country; I have' — I am engaging to betray it. No, Scot- 
 land is no longer my country, and so I cannot betray her. It 
 is she who has betrayed me." 
 
 He fell into a short mood of dejection. And, indeed, I could 
 not but reflect that much of the character fitted him like a 
 jacket. Not the betrayal of his country. He never did that, 
 no matter how roundly they accused him of it afterward. 
 
 To lift him, I cried: — 
 
 " You were one of my first friends, Captain Paul " (I could 
 not stomach the Jones); "but for you I should now be a West 
 Indian, and a miserable one, the slave of some unmerciful 
 hidalgo. Here's that I may live to repay you! " 
 
 "And while we are upon toasts," says he, bracing immedi- 
 ately, "I give you the immortal Miss Manners! Her beauty 
 has dwelt unfaded in my memory since I last beheld her, 
 aboard the Betsy." Remarking the pain in my face, he added, 
 with a concern which may have been comical; "And she is not 
 married?" 
 
 "Unless she is lately gone to Gretna, she is not," I replied, 
 trying to speak lightly. 
 
 "Ala.ck! I knew it," he exclaimed. "And if there's any 
 prophecy in my bones, she'll be Mrs. Carvel one of these 
 days." 
 
 "Well, captain," I said abruptly, "the wheel has gone 
 2h
 
 466 RICHAED CARVEL 
 
 around since I saw you. Noav it is you who are the gentle* 
 man, while I am a factor. Is it the bliss you pictured?" 
 
 I suspected that his acres were not as broad, nor his produce 
 as salable, as those of Mount Vernon. 
 
 "To speak truth, I am heartily tired of that life," said he. 
 "Tliere is little glory in raising nicotia, and sipping bumbo, 
 and cursing negroes. Ho for the sea!" he cried. "The salt 
 sea, and the British prizes. Give me a tight frigate that 
 leaves a singing wake. Mark me, Richard," he said, a rest- 
 less gleam coming into his dark eyes, " stirring times are here, 
 and a chance for all of us to make a name." For so it seemed 
 ever to be with him. 
 
 "They are black times, I fear," I answered. 
 
 " Black ! " he said. " No, glorious is your word. And we 
 are to have an upheaval to throw many of us to the top." 
 
 "I would rather the quarrel were peacefully settled," said 
 I, gravely. "For my j)art, I want no distinction that is to 
 come out of strife and misery." 
 
 He regarded me quizzically. 
 
 " You are grown an hundred years old since I pulled you 
 out of the sea," says he. "But we shall have to fight for our 
 liberties. Here is a glass to the prospect! " 
 
 "And so you are now an American?" I said curiously. 
 
 "Ay, strake and keelson, — as good a one as though I had 
 got my sap in the Maine forests. A plague of monarchs, say 
 I. They are a blotch upon modern civilization. And I have 
 here," he continued, tapping his pocket, "some letters writ to 
 the Virginia printers, signed Demosthenes, which Mr. Randolph 
 and Mr. Henry have commended. To speak truth, Richard, 
 I am, off to Congress with a portmanteau full of recommenda- 
 tions. And I was resolved to stop here even till I secured 
 your company. We shall sweep the seas together, and so let 
 George beware! " 
 
 I smiled. But my blood ra.n faster at the thought of sailing 
 under such a captain. However, I made the remark that 
 Congress had as yet no army, let alone a navy. 
 
 "And think j^ou that gentlemen of such spirit and resources 
 will lack either for long?" he demanded, his eye flashingo
 
 HOW A PROPHECY CAME TO PASS 467 
 
 " Then 1 know nothing of a ship save the little I learned on 
 the John," I said. 
 
 "You were born for the sea, Eichard," he exclaimed, raising 
 his glass high. "And I would rather have one of your brains 
 and strength and handiness than any merchant's mate I ever 
 sailed with. The more gentlemen get commissions, the better 
 will be our new service." 
 
 At that instant came a knock at the door, and one of the 
 inn negroes to say that Captain Clapsaddle was below, and 
 desired to see me. I persuaded John Paul to descend with 
 me. We found Captain Daniel seated with Mr. Carroll, the 
 barrister, and Mr. Cliase. 
 
 "Captain," I said to my old friend, "I have a rare joy this 
 day in making known to you Mr. John Paul Jones, of wliom I 
 have spcken to you a score of times. He it is wliose bravery 
 sank the Black Moll, whose charity took me to London, and 
 who got no otlier reward for his faith than three Aveeks in a 
 debtors' prison. For his honour, as I have told you, would 
 allow him to accept none, nor his principles to take the com- 
 mission in the Royal Navy wliicli Mr. Fox offered him." 
 
 Captain Daniel rose, his honest face flushing with pleasure. 
 "Faith, Mr. Jones," he cried, when John Paul had finished 
 one of his elaborate bows, "this is well met, indeed. I have 
 been longing these many years for a chance to press your hand, 
 and in the names of those who are dead and gone to express 
 my gratitude." 
 
 "I have my reward now, captain," replied John Paul; "a 
 sight of you is to have Richard's whole life revealed. And 
 what says Mr, Congreve? — 
 
 " ' For blessings ever wait on virtuous deeds, 
 And tho' a late, a sure reward succeeds,' 
 
 The* I would not have you believe that my deed was virtuous. 
 And you, who know Richard, may form some notion of the 
 pleasure I had out of his companionship." 
 
 I hastened to present my friend to the other gentlemen, who 
 welcomed him with warmth, though they could not keep theit 
 amusement wholly out of their faces.
 
 468 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 "Mr. Jones is now the possessor of an estate in Virginia, 
 sirs," I explained. 
 
 " And do you find it more to your taste than seafaring, Mr. 
 Jones?" inquired Mr. Chase. 
 
 This brought forth a most vehement protest, and another 
 quotation. 
 
 "Why, sir," he cried, "to be 
 
 *' ' Fixed like a plant on his peculiar spot, 
 To draw nutrition, propagate, and rot,' 
 
 IS an animal's existence. I have thrown it over, sir, with a 
 right good will, and am now on my way to Philadelphia to 
 obtain a commission in the navy soon to be born." 
 
 Mr. Chase smiled. John Paul little suspected that he was 
 a member of the Congress. 
 
 "This is news indeed, Mr. Jones," he said. "1 have yet to 
 hear of the birth of this infant navy, for which we have not 
 yet begun to make swaddling clothes." 
 
 "We are not yet an infant state, sir," Mr. Carroll put in, 
 with a shade of rebuke. For Maryland was well content with 
 the government she had enjoyed, and her best patriots long 
 after shunned the length of secession. " I believe and pray 
 that the King will come to his senses. And as for the navy, 
 it is folly. How can we hope to compete with England on the 
 sea? " 
 
 "All great things must have a beginning sir," replied John 
 Paul, launching forth at once, nothing daunted by such cold 
 conservatism'. " What Israelite brickmaker of Pharaoh's 
 dreamed of Solomon's temple? Nay, Moses himself had no 
 conception of it. And God will send us our pillars of cloud 
 and of fire. We must be reconciled to our great destiny, Mr. 
 Carroll. No fight ever was won by man or nation content 
 with half a victory. We have forests to build an hundred 
 armadas, and I will command a fleet and it is given me." 
 
 The gentlemen listened in astonishment. 
 
 "I' faith, I believe you, sir," cried Captain Daniel, with 
 admiration. 
 
 The others, too, were somehow fallen under the spell of this
 
 HOW A PROPHECY CAME TO PASS 469 
 
 remarkable individuality. "What plan would you pursue, 
 sir?" asked Mr. Chase, betraying more interest than he cared 
 to show. 
 
 " What plan, sir! " said Captain John Paul, those wonderful 
 eyes of his alight. " In the first place, we Americans build 
 the fastest ships in the world, — yours of the Cliesapeake are 
 as fleet as any. Here, if I am not mistaken, one hundred and 
 eighty-two were built in the year '71. They are idle now. 
 To them I would issue letters of marque, to harry England's 
 trade. Erom Carolina to Maine we have the wood and iron to 
 build cruisers, in harbours that may not easily be got at. And 
 skilled masters and seamen to elude the enemy." 
 
 "But a navy must be organized, sir. It must be an unit," 
 objected Mr. Carroll. "And you Avould not for many years 
 have force enough, or discipline enough, to meet England's 
 navy." 
 
 "I would never meet it, sir," he replied instantly. "That 
 would be the height of folly. I would divide our forces into 
 small, swift-sailing squadrons, of strength sufficient to repel 
 his cruisers. And I would carry the war straight into his 
 unprotected ports of trade. I can name a score of such 
 defenceless places, and I know every shoal of their harbours. 
 For example, Whitehaven might be entered. That is a town 
 of fifty thousand inhabitants. The fleet of merchantmen might 
 with the greatest ease be destroyed, a contribution levied, and 
 Ireland's coal cut off for a winter. The whole of the shipping 
 might be swept out of the Clyde. Newcastle is another likely 
 place, and in almost any of the Irish ports valuable vessels 
 may be found. The Baltic and West Indian fleets are to be 
 intercepted. I have reflected upon these matters for years, 
 gentlemen. They are perfectly feasible. And I'll warrant 
 you cannot conceive the havoc and consternation their fulfil- 
 ment would spread in England." 
 
 If the divine power of genius ever made itself felt, 'twas 
 on that May evening, at candle-light, in the Annapolis Coffee 
 House. With my own eyes I witnessed two able and cautious 
 statesmen of a cautious province thrilled to the pitch of en- 
 thusiasm by this strange young man of eight and twenty. As
 
 470 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 for good Captain Daniel, enthusiasm is but a poor word to 
 express liis feelings. A map was sent for and spread out upon 
 the table. And it was a late hour when Mr. Chase and Mr. 
 Carroll went home, profoundly impressed. Mr. Chase charged 
 John Paul look him up in Congress. 
 
 The next morning I bade Captain Daniel a solemn good-by, 
 and rode away with John Paul to Baltimore. Thence we took 
 stage to New Castle on the Delaware, and were eventually 
 landed by Mr. Tatlow's stage-boat at Crooked Billet wharf, 
 Philadelphia. 
 
 A BRIEF SUMMARY, WHICH BRINGS THIS BIOGRAPHY TO 
 THE FAMOUS FIGHT OF THE BON HOMME BICHABD 
 AND THE SEEAPIS 
 
 Bt Daniel Clapsaddle Carvel 
 
 Mr. Richard Carvel refers here to the narrative of his experiences in 
 the War of the Revokition, whicli he had written in the year 1805 or 1806. 
 The insertion of that account would swell this book, already too long, out 
 of all proportion. Heuce I take it upon myself, witli apologies, to com- 
 press it. 
 
 Not until October of that yea.r, 1775, was the infant navy born. Mr. 
 Carvel was occupied in the interval in the acquireuient of practical sea- 
 manship and the theory of maritime warfare under the most competent 
 of instructors, John Paul Jones. An interesting side light is thrown upon 
 the character of that hero by the fact that, with all liis supreme confidence 
 in his ability, he applied to Congi-ess only for a first lieutenancy. This 
 was in deference to the older men before that body. " I hoped," said he, 
 "in that rank to gain much useful knowledge from those of more expe- 
 rience than myself." His lack of assertion for once cost him dear. He 
 sailed on the New Providence expedition under Commodore Hopkins as 
 first lieutenant of the Alfred^ thirty ; and he soon discovered that, instead 
 of gaining information, he was obliged to inform others. He trained the 
 men so thoroughly in the use of the great guns " that they went through 
 the motions of broadsides and rounds exactly as soldiers generally per- 
 form the manual exercise." 
 
 Captain Jones was not long in fixing the attention and earning the 
 gratitude of the nation, and of its Commander-in-Chief, General Wash- 
 ington. While in command of the Providence, twelve four-pounders, hia 
 successful elusions of the Cerberus, which hounded him, and his escape
 
 HOW A PROPHECY CAME TO PASS 471 
 
 from the Solebay, are too famous to be dwelt upon here. Obtaining the 
 Alfred, he captured and brought into Boston ten thousand suits of uni 
 form for Washington's shivering army. Then, by tlie bungling of Congress, 
 thirteen officers were promoted over his head. The bitterness this act 
 engendered in the soul of one whose thirst for distinction was as gi-eat as 
 Captain Jones's may be imagined. To his everlasting credit be it recorded 
 that lie remained true to the country to which he had dedicated his life 
 and his talents. And it was not until 1781 that he got the justice due 
 him. 
 
 That the rough and bluff captains of the American service should have 
 regarded a man of Paul Jones's type with suspicion is not surprising. 
 They resented his polish and accomplishments, and could not understand 
 his language. Perhaps it was for this reason, as well as a reward for his 
 brilliant services, that he was always given a separate command. In the 
 summer of 1777 he was singled out for thehigliest gift in the power of the 
 United States, nothing less tlian tliat of the magnificent frigate Indien, 
 then building at Amsterdam. And he w-as ordered to France in com- 
 mand of the Banger, a new ship then fitting at Portsmouth. Captain 
 Jones was the admiration of all the young officers in the navy, and was 
 immediately flooded with requests to sail with him. One of his first acts, 
 after receiving his command, was to apply to the Marine Committee for 
 Mr. Carvel. The favour was granted. 
 
 My grandfather had earned much commendation from his superiors. 
 He had sailed two cruises as master's mate of the Cabot, and was then 
 serving as master of the Trumlmll, Captain Saltonstall. This was shortly 
 after that frigate had captured the two British transports off New York. 
 
 Captain Jones has been at pains to mention in his letters the services 
 rendered him by Mr. Carvel in fitting out the Banger. And my grand- 
 father gives a striking picture of the captain. At that time«the privateers, 
 with the larger inducements of profit they offered, w^ere getting all' the 
 best seamen. John Paul had but to take two turns with a man across the 
 dock, and he would sign papers. 
 
 Captain Jones was the first to raise the new flag of the stars and stripes 
 over a !nan-o'-war. They got away on November 14, 1777, with a fair 
 crew and a poor lot of officers. Mr. Carvel had many a brush with the 
 mutinous first lieutenant Simpson. Family influence deterred the cap- 
 tain from placing this man under arrest, and even Dr. Franklm found 
 trouble, some years after, in bringing about his dismissal from tlie service. 
 To add to the troubles, the Banger proved crank and slow-sailing : and 
 she had only one barrel of rum aboard, which made the men discon- 
 tented. 
 
 Bringing the official news of Burgoyne's surrender, which was to cause 
 King Louis to acknowledge the independence of the United States, the 
 Banger arrived at Nantes, December 2. Mr. Carvel accompanied Cap- 
 tain Jones to Paris, where a serious blow awaited him. The American
 
 472 EICHARD CAEVEL 
 
 Commissioners informed him that the Indien had been transferred to 
 France to prevent her confiscation. That winter John Paul spent striv- 
 ing in vain for a better ship, and imbibing tactics from the French admi- 
 rals. Incidentally, he obtained a salute for the American flag. The 
 cruise of the Banger in English waters the following spring was a strik- 
 ing fulfilment, with an absurdly poor and inadequate force, of the plan 
 set forth by John Paul Jones in the Annapolis Coffee House. His descent 
 upon Whitehaven spread terror and consternation broadcast through 
 England, and he was branded as a pirate and a traitor. Mr. Carvel was 
 fortunately not of the landing party on St. Mary's Isle, which place he 
 had last beheld in John Paul's company, on the brigantine John, when 
 entering Kirkcudbright. The object of that expedition, as is well known, 
 was to obtain the person of the Earl of Selkirk, in order to bring about 
 the rescue of the unfortunate Americans suffering in British prisons. 
 After the celebrated capture of the sloop-of-war Drake, Paul Jones re- 
 turned to Fi'ance a hero. 
 
 If Captain Jones was ambitious of personal glory, he may never, at 
 least, be accused of mercenary motives. The ragged crew of the Banger 
 was paid in part out of his own pocket, and for a whole month he sup- 
 ported the Drake''s officers and men, no provision having been made for 
 prisoners. He was at large expense in fitting out the Banger, and he 
 bought back at twice what it was worth the plate taken from St. Mary's 
 Isle, getting but a tardy recognition from the Earl of Selkirk for such a 
 noble and unheard-of action. And, I take pride in writing it, Mr. Carvel 
 spent much of what he had earned at Gordon's Pride in a like honourable 
 manner. 
 
 Mr. Carvel's description of the hero's reception at Versailles is graphic 
 and very humorous. For all his republican principles John Paul never 
 got over his love of courts, and no man was ever a more thorough courtier. 
 He exchanged compliments with Queen Marie Antoinette, who was then 
 in the bloom of her beauty, and declared that "she was a good girl, and 
 deserved to be happy." 
 
 The unruly Simpson sailed for America in the Banger in July, Captain 
 Jones being retained in France "for a particular enterprise." And 
 through the kindness of Dr. Franklin, Mr. Carvel remained with him. 
 Then followed another period of heartrending disappointment. The fine 
 ship the French government promised him was not forthcoming, though 
 Captain Jones wrote a volume of beautiful letters to every one of impor- 
 tance, from her Royal Highness the Duchess of Chartres to his Most 
 Christian Majesty, Louis, King of France and Navarre. At length, when 
 he was sitting one day in unusual dejection and railing at the vanity of 
 courts and kings, Mr. Carvel approached him with a book in his hand. 
 
 " What have you there, Richard ? " the captain demanded. 
 
 "Dr. Franklin's Maxims," replied my grandfather. They were great 
 favourites with him. The captain took the book and began mechanically
 
 HOW A PKOPHECY CAME TO PASS 473 
 
 to turn oyer the pages. Suddenly he closed it with a bang, jumped up, 
 and put on his coat and hat. Mr. Carvel looked on in astonishment. 
 
 " Where are you going, sir ? " says he. 
 
 " To Paris, sir," says the captain. " Dr. Franklin has taught me more 
 wisdom in a s'^cond than I had in all my life before. ' If you wish to 
 have any business faithfully and expeditiously performed, go and do it 
 yourself; otherwise, send.' " 
 
 As a result of that trip he got the Buras, which he renamed the Bon 
 homme Bichard in honour of Dr. Franklin. The Duras was an ancient 
 Indianian with a high poop, which made my grandfather exclaim, when 
 he saw her, at the remarkable fulfilment of old Stanwix's prophecy. 
 She was perfectly rotten, and in the constructor's opinion not worth 
 refitting. Her lowest deck (too low for the purpose) was pierced aft 
 with three ports on a side, and six worn-out eighteen-pounders mounted 
 ihere. Some of them burst in the action, killing their people. The main 
 battery, on the deck above, was composed of twenty-eight twelve-pounders. 
 On the uncovered deck eight nine-pounders were mounted. Captain Jones 
 again showed his desire to serve the cause by taking such a ship, and not 
 waiting for something better. 
 
 In the meantime the American frigate Alliance had brought Lafayette 
 to France, and was added to the little squadron that was to sail with the 
 Bon homme Richard. One of the most fatal mistakes Congress ever made 
 was to put Captain Pierre Landais in command of her, out of compliment 
 to the Fi-ench allies. He was a man whose temper and vagaries had failed 
 to get him a command in his own navy. His insulting conduct and 
 treachery to Captain Jones are strongly attested to in Mr. Carvel's manu- 
 script : they were amply proved by the written statements of other officers. 
 
 The squadron sailed from L'Orient in June, but owing to a collision 
 between the Bon homme Bichard and the Alliance it was forced to put 
 back into the Groix roads for repairs. Nails and rivets were with difficulty 
 got to hold in the sides of the old Indiaman. On August llth John Paul 
 Jones again set sail for English waters, with the following vessels : Alliance, 
 thirty-six ; Pallas, thirty ; Cei-f, eighteen ; Vengeance, twelve ; and two 
 French privateers. Owing to the humiliating conditions imposed upon 
 him by the French Minister of Marine, Commodore Jones did not have 
 absolute command. In a gale on the 26th the two privateers and the 
 Cerf parted company, never to return. After the most outrageous con- 
 duct off the coast of Ireland, Landais, in the Alliance, left the squadron on 
 September 6th, and did not reappear until the 23d, the day of the battle. 
 
 Mr. Carvel was the third lieutenant of the Bon homme Bichard, tho' 
 he served as second in the action. Her first lieutenant (afterwards the 
 celebrated Commodore Richard Dale) was a magnificent man, one worthy 
 in every respect of the captain he served. When the hour of battle 
 arrived, these two and the sailing master, and a number of raw midship- 
 men, were the only line-officers left, and two French officers of marines.
 
 474 EICHARD CARVEL 
 
 The rest had been lost in various ways. And the crew of the Bon homme 
 Bichard was as sorry a lot as ever trod a deck. Less than three score of 
 the seamen were American born ; near four score were British, inclusive 
 of sixteen Irish ; one hundred and thirty-seven were French soldiers, who 
 acted as marines; and the rest of the three hundred odd souls to fight her 
 were from all over the earth, — Malays and Maltese and Portuguese. In 
 the hold were more than one hundred and fifty English prisoners. 
 
 This was a vessel and a force, truly, with which to conquer a fifty-gun 
 ship of the latest type, and with a picked crew. 
 
 Mr. Carvel's chapter opens with Landais's sudden reappearance on the 
 morning of the day the battle was fought. He shows the resentment and 
 anger against the Frenchman felt by all on board, from cabin-boy to com- 
 modore. But none went so far as to accuse the captain of the Alliance of 
 such supreme treachery as he was to show during the action. Cowardice 
 may have been in part responsible for his holding aloof from the two duels 
 in which the Bichard and the Pallas engaged. But the fact that he poured 
 broadsides into the Bichard, and into her off side, makes it seem probable 
 that his motive was to sink the commodore's ship, and so get the credit of 
 saving the day, to the detriment of the hero who won it despite all disas- 
 ters. To account for the cry that was raised when first she attacked the 
 Bichard, it must be borne in mind that the crew of the Alliance was 
 largely composed of Englishmen. It was thought that these had mutinied 
 and taken her. 
 
 I
 
 CHAPTER LIl 
 
 HOW THE gardener's SON FOUGHT THE "SERAPIS" 
 
 When I came on deck the next morning our yards were 
 a-drip with a clammy fog, and under it the sea was roughed 
 by a southwest breeze. We were standing to the northward 
 before it. I remember reflecting as I paused in the gangway 
 that the day was Thursday, September the 23d, and that we 
 were near two months out of Groix with this tub of an India- 
 man. In all that time we had not so much as got a whiff of 
 an English frigate, though we had almost put a belt around 
 the British Isles. Then straining my eyes through the mist, 
 I made out two white blurs of sails on our starboard beam. 
 Honest Jack Pearce, one of the few good seamen we had 
 aboard, was rubbing down one of the nines beside me. 
 
 "Why, Jack," said I, "what have we there? Another 
 prize?" For that question had become a joke on board the 
 Bon homme Richard since the prisoners ha J reached an hun- 
 dred and fifty, and half our crew was gone to man the ships. 
 
 "Bless your 'art, no, sir," said he. "'Tis that damned 
 Erenchy Landais in th' Alliance. She turns up with the Pallas 
 at six bells o' the middle watch." 
 
 "So he's back, is he?" 
 
 "Ay, he's back," he returned, with a grunt that was half a 
 growl; "arter three weeks breakin' o' liberty. I tell 'ee 
 what, sir, them Erenchies is treecherous devils, an' not to be 
 trusted the len'th of a lead line. An' they beant seamen eno' 
 to keep a full an' by with all their takteek. Ez fer that 
 Landais, I hearn him whinin' at the commodore in the round 
 house when we was off Clear, an' sayin' as how he would tell 
 Sartin on us when he gets back to Paree. An' jabberin to th' 
 
 475
 
 476 EICHARD CARVEL 
 
 other Frenchmen as was there that this here butter-cask was 
 er King's ship, an' that the commodore weren't no commodore 
 nohow. They say as how Cap'n Jones be bound up in a hard 
 knot by some articles of agreement, an' daresn't punish him. 
 Be that so, Mr. Carvel?" 
 
 I said that it was. 
 
 "Shiver my bulkheads!" cried Jack, "I gave my oath to 
 that same, sir. Por I knowed the commodore was the lad t' 
 string 'em to the yard-arm an' he had the say on it. Oh, the 
 devil take the Frenchies," said Jack, rolling his quid to show 
 his pleasure of the topic, "they sits on their bottoms in Brest 
 and L'Oriong an' talks takteek wi' their ban's and mouths, 
 and daresn't as much as show the noses o' their three-deckers 
 in th' Bay o' Biscay, while Cap'n Jones pokes his bowsprit 
 into every port in England with a hulk the rats have left. 
 I've had my bellyful o' Frenchies, Mr. Carvel, save it be to 
 fight 'em. An' I tell 'ee 'twould give me the greatest joy in 
 life t' leave loose Scolding Sairy at that there Landais. Th' 
 gal ain't had a match on her this here cruise, an' t' my mind 
 she couldn't be christened better, sir." 
 
 I left him patting the gun with a tender affection. 
 
 The scene on board was quiet and peaceful enough that 
 morning. A knot of midshipmen on the forecastle were dis- 
 cussing Landais's conduct, and cursing the concordat which 
 prevented our commodore from bringing him up short. Mr. 
 Stacey, the sailing-master, had the deck, and the coasting pilot 
 was conning; now and anon the boatswain's whistle piped for 
 Garrett or Quito or Fogg to lay aft to the mast, where the first 
 lieutenant stood talking to Colonel de Chamillard, of the French 
 marines. The scavengers were sweeping down, and part of the 
 after guard was bending a new bolt-rope on a storm staysail. 
 
 Then the fore-topmast crosstrees reports a sail on the 
 weather quarter, the Richard is brought around on the wind, 
 and away we go after a brigantine, " flying like a snow laden 
 with English bricks," as Midshipman Coram jokingly remarks. 
 A chase is not such a novelty with us that we crane our necks 
 to windward. 
 
 At noon, when I relieved Mr. Stacey of the deck, the sun
 
 THE "SEEAPIS" 477 
 
 had eaten up the fog, and the shores of England stood out 
 boldly. Spurn Head was looming up across our bows, while 
 that of Flamborough jutted into the sea behind us. I had the 
 starboard watch piped to dinner, and reported twelve o'clock 
 to the commodore. And had just got permission to "make 
 it," according to a time-honoured custom at sea, when another 
 " Sail, ho ! " came down from aloft. 
 
 "Where away?" called back Mr. Linthwaite, who was mid- 
 shipman of the forecastle. 
 
 " Starboard quarter, rounding Flamborough Head, sir. Looks 
 like a full-rigged ship, sir." 
 
 I sent the messenger into the great cabin to report. He 
 was barely out of sight before a second cry came from the 
 masthead: "Another sail rounding Flamborough, sir!" 
 
 The officers on deck hurried to the taft'rail. I had my glass, 
 but not a dot was visible above the sea-line. The messenger 
 was scarcely back again when there came a third hail: "Two 
 more rounding the head, sir! Four in all, sir! " 
 
 Here was excitement indeed. Without waiting for instruc- 
 tions, I gave the command : — 
 
 " Up royal yards ! Eoyal yardmen in the tops ! " 
 
 We were already swaying out of the chains, when Lieutenant 
 Dale appeared and asked the coasting pilot what fleet it was. 
 He answered that it was the Baltic fleet, under convoy of the 
 Countess of Scarborough, twenty guns, and the Serapis, forty- 
 four. 
 
 "Forty-four," repeated Mr. Dale, smiling ; "that means 
 fifty, as English frigates are rated. We shall have our hands 
 full this day, my lads," said he. "You have done well to get 
 the royals on her, Mr. Carvel." 
 
 While he was yet speaking, three more sail were reported 
 from aloft. Then there was a hush on deck, and the commo- 
 dore himself appeared. As he reached the poop we saluted 
 him and informed him of what had happened. 
 
 " The Baltic fleet," said he, promptly. " Call away the pilot- 
 boat with Mr. Lunt to follow the brigantine, sir, and ease off 
 before the wind. Signal 'General Chase' to the squadron, 
 Mr. Mayrant."
 
 478 RICHAKD CAEVEL 
 
 The men had jumped to the weather braces before I gave 
 the command, and all the while more sail were counting from 
 the crosstrees, until their number had reached forty-one. The 
 news spread over the ship; the starboard watch trooped up 
 with their dinners half eaten. Then a faint booming of guns 
 drifted down upon our ears. 
 
 " They've got siglit of us, sir," shouted the lookout. " They 
 be firing guns to windward, an' letting fly their topgallant 
 sheets." 
 
 At that the commodore hurried forward, the men falling back 
 to the bulwarks respectfully, and he mounted the fore-rigging 
 as agile as any topman, followed by his aide with a glass. 
 From the masthead he sung out to me to set our stu'nsails, 
 and he remained aloft till near seven bells of the watch. At 
 that hour the merchantmen had all scuttled to safety behind 
 the head, and from the deck a great yellow King's frigate could 
 be plainly seen standing south to meet us, followed by her 
 smaller consort. Presently she hove to, and through our 
 glasses we discerned a small boat making for her side, and 
 then a man clambering up her sea-ladder. 
 
 "That be the bailiff of Scarborough, sir," said the coasting 
 pilot, "come to tell her cap'n 'tis Paul Jones he has to fight." 
 
 At that moment the commodore lay down from aloft, and 
 our hearts beat high as he walked swiftly aft to the quarter- 
 deck, where he paused for a word with Mr. Dale. Meanwhile 
 Mr. Mayrant hove out the signal for the squadron to form line 
 of battle. 
 
 "Eecall the pilot-boat, Mr. Carvel," said the commodore, 
 quietly. " Then you may beat to quarters, and I will take the 
 ship, sir." 
 
 "Ay, ay, sir." I raised my trumpet. "All hands dear ship 
 for action ! " 
 
 It makes me sigh now to think of the cheer which burst from 
 that tatterdemalion crew. Who were they to fight the bone 
 and sinew of the King's navy in a rotten ship of an age gone 
 by? And who was he, that stood so straight upon the quar- 
 ter-deck, to instil this scum with love and worship and fervour 
 to blind them to such odds? But the bo'suns piped and sang
 
 THE "SERAPIS" 479 
 
 out the command in fog-horn voices, the drums beat the long 
 roll and the fifes whistled, and tlie decks became suddenly 
 alive. Breechings were loosed and gun-tackles uulashed, ram- 
 mer and sponge laid out, and pike and pistol and cutlass placed 
 Avhere they would be handy when the time came to rush the 
 enemy's decks. The powder-monkeys tumbled over each other 
 in their hurry to provide cartridges, and grape and canister 
 and double-headed shot were hoisted up from below. The 
 trimmers rigged the splinter nettings, got oat spare spars and 
 blocks and ropes against those that were sure to be shot away, 
 and rolled up casks of water to put out the fires. Tubs were 
 filled with sand, for blood is slippery upon the boards. The 
 French marines, their scarlet and white very natty in contrast 
 to most of our ragged wharf-rats at the guns, were mustered on 
 poop and forecastle, and some were sent aloft to the tops to 
 assist the tars there to sweep the British decks with hand- 
 grenade and musket. And, lastly, the surgeon and his mates 
 went below to cockpit and steerage, to make ready for the 
 grimmest work of all. 
 
 j\Iy own duties took me to the dark lower deck, a vile place 
 indeed, and reeking with the smell of tar and stale victuals. 
 There I had charge of the battery of old eighteens, while Mr. 
 Dale commanded the twelves on the middle deck. We loaded 
 our guns with two shots apiece, though I had my doubts about 
 their standing such a charge, and then the men stripped until 
 they stood naked to the waist, waiting for the fight to begin. 
 For we could see nothing of what was going forward. I was 
 pacing up and down, for it was a task to quiet the nerves in 
 that dingj'' place with the gun-ports closed, when about three 
 bells of the dog, Mr. Mease, the purser, appeared on the ladder. 
 
 "Lunt has not come back with the pilot-boat, Carvel," said 
 he. "I have volunteered for a battery, and am assigned to 
 this. You are to report to the commodore." 
 
 I thanked him, and climbed quickly to the quarterdeck. 
 The Bon homme Richard was lumbering like a leaden ship 
 before the wind, swaying ponderously, her topsails flapping 
 and her heavy blocks whacking against the yards. And there 
 was the commodore, erect, and with fire in his eye, giving
 
 480 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 sharp commands to the men at the wheel. I knew at once ' 
 that no trifle had disturbed him. He wore a brand-new uni- 
 form; a blue coat with red lapels and yellow buttons, and 
 slashed culfs and stand-up collar, a red waistcoat with tawny 
 lace, blue breeches, white silk stockings, and a cocked hat and 
 a sword. Into his belt were stuck two brace of pistols. 
 
 It took some effort to realize, as I waited silently for his 
 attention, that this was the man of whose innermost life I had 
 had so intimate a view. Who had taken me to the humble 
 cottage under Criffel, who had poured into my ear his ambi- 
 tions and his wrongs when we had sat together in the dingy 
 room of the Castle Yard sponging-house. Then some of those 
 ludicrous scenes on the road to London came up to me, for 
 which the sky-blue frock was responsible. And yet this com- 
 modore was not greatly removed from him I had first beheld 
 on the brigantine John. His confidence in his future had not 
 so much as wavered since that day. That future was now not 
 so far distant as the horizon, and he was ready to meet it. 
 
 " You will take charge of the battery of nines on this deck, 
 Mr. Carvel," said he, at length. 
 
 "Very good, sir," I replied, and was making my way down 
 the poop ladder, when I heard him calling me, in a low voice, 
 by the old name: "Richard! " 
 
 I turned and followed him aft to the taffrail, where we were 
 clear of the French soldiers. The sun was hanging red over 
 the Yorkshire Wolds, the Head of Flamborough was in the 
 blue shadow, and the clouds were like rose leaves in the sky. 
 The enemy had tacked and was standing west, with ensign and 
 jack and pennant flying, the level light washing his sails to 
 the whiteness of paper. 'Twas then I first remarked that the 
 Alliance had left her place in line and was sailing swiftly ahead 
 toward the Serapis. The commodore seemed to read my ex- 
 clamation. 
 
 "Landais means to ruin me yet, by hook or crook," said he. 
 
 "But he can't intend to close with them," I replied. "He 
 has not the courage." 
 
 "God knows what he intends," said the commodore, bit- 
 terly. "It is no good, at all events."
 
 THE '^SERAPIS" 481 
 
 My heart bled for liim. Some minutes passed that he did 
 not speak, making shift to raise his glass now and again, and 
 I knew that he was gripped by a strong emotion. 'Twas so 
 he ever behaved when the stress was greatest. Presently he 
 lays down the glass on the signal-chest, fumbles in his coat, 
 and brings out tlie little gold brooch I had not set eyes on 
 since Dolly and he and I had stood together on the Betsy^s 
 deck. 
 
 "When you see her, Kichard, tell her that I have kept it as 
 sacred as her memory," he said thickly. "She will recall 
 what I spoke of you when she gave it me. You have been 
 leal and true to me indeed, and many a black hour have you 
 tided me over since this war began. Do you know how she 
 may be directed to?" he concluded, with abruptness. 
 
 I glanced at him, surprised at the question. He was staring 
 at the English shore. 
 
 " Mr. Ripley, of Lincoln's Inn, used to be Mr. Manners's 
 lawyer," I answered. 
 
 He took out a little note-book and vrote that down carefully. 
 "And now," he continued, "God keep you, my friend. We 
 must win, for we fight with a rope around our necks." 
 
 "But you, Captain Paul," I said, "is — is there no one?" 
 
 His face took on the look of melancholy it had worn so 
 often of late, despite his triumphs. That look was the stamp 
 of fate. 
 
 "Richard," replied he, with an ineffable sadness, "I am 
 naught but a wanderer upon the face of the earth. I have no 
 ties, no kindred, — no real friends, save you and Dale, and 
 some of these honest fellows whom I lead to slaughter. My 
 ambition is seamed with a flaw. And all my life I must be 
 striving, striving, until I am laid in the grave. I know that 
 now, and it is you yourself who have taught me. For I have 
 violently broken forth from those bounds which God in His 
 wisdom did set." 
 
 I pressed his hand, and with bowed head went back to my 
 station, profoundly struck by the truth of what he had spoken. 
 Though he fought under the flag of freedom, the curse of the 
 expatriated was upon his head. 
 2i
 
 482 EICHARD CAEVEL 
 
 Shortly afterward lie appeared at tlie poop rail, straight and 
 alert, his eye piercing each mau as it fell on him. He was 
 the commodore once more. 
 
 The twilight deepened, until you scarce could see your 
 hands. There was no sound save the cracking of the cabins 
 and the tumbling of the blocks, and from time to time a mut- 
 tered command. An age went by before the trimmers were 
 sent to the lee braces, and the Richard rounded lazily to. And 
 a great frigate loomed out of the night beside us, half a pistol- 
 shot away. 
 
 "Wliat ship is that?" came the hail, intense out of the 
 silence. 
 
 "I don't hear you," replied our commodore, for he had not 
 yet got his distance. 
 
 Again came the hail: "What ship is that?" 
 
 Jolm Paul Jones leaned forward over the rail. 
 
 "Pass the word below to the first lieutenant to begin the 
 action, sir." 
 
 Hardly were the words out of my mouth before the deck 
 gave a mighty leap, a hot wind that seemed half of flame blew 
 across my face, and the roar started the pain throbbing in my 
 ears. At the same instant the screech of shot sounded over- 
 head, we heard the sharp crack-crack of wood rending and 
 splitting, — as with a great broadaxe, — and a medley of blocks 
 and ropes rattled to the deck with the thud of the falling 
 bodies. Then, instead of stillness, moans and shrieks from 
 above and below, oaths and prayers in English and French 
 and Portuguese, and in the heathen gibberish of the East. As 
 the men were sponging and ramming home in the first fury of 
 hatred, the carpenter jumped out under the battle-lanthorn at 
 the main hatch, crying in a wild voice that the old eighteens 
 had burst, killing half their crews and blowing up the gun- 
 deck above them. At this many of our men broke and ran for 
 the hatches. 
 
 "Back, hack to your quarters! The first man to desert loill he 
 shot downf 
 
 It was the same strange voice that had quelled the mutiny 
 on the Johi, that had awed the men of Kirkcudbright. The
 
 THE "SERAPIS" 483 
 
 tackles were seized and the guns run out once more, and fired, 
 and served again in an agony of haste. In the darkness shot 
 shrieked hitlier and tliitlier about us like demons, striking 
 everywhere, sometimes sending casks of salt water over the 
 nettings. Incessantly the quartermaster walked to and fro 
 scattering sand over the black pools that kept running, running 
 together as the minutes were tolled out, and the red flashes 
 from the guns revealed faces in a hideous contortion. One little 
 fellow, with whom I had had many a lively word at mess, had 
 his arm taken off at the shoulder as he went skipping past me 
 with the charge under his coat, and I have but to listen now 
 to hear the patter of the blood on the boards as they carried 
 him away to the cockpit below. Out of the main hatch, from 
 that charnel house, rose one continuous cry. It was an odd 
 trick of the mind or soul that put a hymn on my lips in that 
 dreadful hour of carnage and human misery, when men were 
 calling the name of their Maker in vain. But as I ran from 
 crew to crew, I sang over and over again a long-forgotten 
 Christmas carol, and v/ith it came a fleeting memory of my 
 mother on the stairs at Carvel Hall, and of the negroes gath- 
 ered on the lawn without. 
 
 Suddenly, glancing up at the dim cloud of sails above, I 
 saw that we were aback and making sternway. We might 
 have tossed a biscuit aboard the big Seirqyis as she glided 
 ahead of us. The broadsides thundered, and great ragged 
 scantlings brake from our bulwarks and flew as high as the 
 mizzen-top; and the shrieks and groans redoubled. Involun- 
 tarily my eyes sought the poop, and I gave a sigh of relief at 
 the sight of the commanding figure in the midst of the Avhirl- 
 ing smoke. We shotted our guns with double-headed, manned 
 our lee braces, and gathered headway. 
 
 ^' Stand by to board!" 
 
 The boatswains' whistles trilled through the ship, pikes 
 were seized, and pistol and cutlass buckled on. But even as 
 we waited with set teeth, our bows ground into the enemy's 
 weather quarter-gallery. For the Richard's rigging was much 
 cut away, and she was crank at best. So we backed and filled 
 once more, passing the Englishman close aboard, himself being
 
 484 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 aback at the time. Several of his shot crushed through the 
 bulwarks in front of me, shattering a nine-pounder alid killing 
 half of its crew. And it is only a miracle that I stand alive 
 to be able to tell the tale. Then I caught a glimpse of the 
 quartermaster whirling the spokes of our wheel, and over went 
 our helm to lay us athwart the forefoot of the Serapis, where 
 we might rake and rush her decks. Our old Indiaman an- 
 swered but doggedly; and the huge bowsprit of the Serapis, 
 towering over our heads, snapped off our spanker gaff and 
 fouled our mizzen rigging. 
 
 "A hawser, Mr. Stacey, a hawser! " I heard the commodore 
 shout, and saw the sailing-master slide down the ladder and 
 grope among the dead and wounded and mass of broken spars 
 and tackles, and finally pick up a smeared rope's end, which 
 I helped him drag to the poop. There we found the com- 
 modore himself taking skilful turns around the mizzen with 
 the severed stays and shrouds dangling from the bowsprit, 
 the French marines looking on. 
 
 "Don't swear, Mr. Stacey," said he, severely ; "in another 
 minute we may all be in eternity." 
 
 I rushed back to my guns, for the wind was rapidly swing- 
 ing the stern of the Serapis to our own bow, now bringing her 
 starboard batteries into play. Barely had we time to light our 
 matches and send our broadside into her at three fathoms 
 before the huge vessels came crunching together, the dis- 
 ordered riggings locking, and both pointed northward to a 
 leeward tide in a death embrace. The chance had not been 
 given him to shift his crews or to fling open his starboard 
 gun-ports. 
 
 Then ensued a moment's breathless hush, even the cries of 
 those in agony lulling. The pall of smoke rolled a little, and a 
 silver moonlight filtered through, revealing the weltering bodies 
 twisted upon the boards. A stern call came from beyond the 
 bulwarks. 
 
 " Have you struck, sir ? " 
 
 The answer sounded clear, and bred hero-worship in our 
 souls. 
 
 ''^ Sir, I have not yet begun to fight."
 
 THE ''SERAPIS" 485 
 
 Our men raised a hoarse yell, drowned all at once by the 
 popping of musketry in the tops and the bursting of grenades 
 here and there about the decks. A mighty muffled blast sent 
 the Bon homme Richard rolling to larboard, and the smoke 
 eddied from our hatches and lifted out of the space between 
 the ships. The Englishman had blown off his gun-ports. 
 And next some one shouted that our battery of twelves was 
 fighting them muzzle to muzzle below, our rammers leaning 
 into the Serapis to send their shot home. jSTo chance then 
 for the thoughts which had tortured us in moments of sus- 
 pense. That was a fearful hour, when a shot had scarce to 
 leap a cannon's length to find its commission; when the 
 belches of the English guns burned the hair of our faces; 
 when Death was sovereign, merciful or cruel at his pleasure. 
 The red flashes disclosed many an act of coolness and of hero- 
 ism. I saw a French lad whip off his coat when a gunner 
 called for a wad, and another, who had been a scavenger, snatch 
 the rammer from Pearce's hands when he staggered with a 
 grape-shot through his chest. Poor Jack Pearce ! He did not 
 live to see the work Scolding Sairy was to do that night. I had 
 but dragged him beyond reach of the recoil when he was gone. 
 
 Then a cry came floating down from aloft. Thrice did I 
 hear it, like one waking out of a sleep, ere I grasped its im- 
 port. " The Alliance ! The Alliance ! " But liardly had the 
 name resounded with joy throughout the ship, when a hail 
 of grape and canister tore through our sails from aft for- 
 ward. " She rakes us ! She rakes us ! " And the French 
 soldiers tumbled headlong down from the poop with a wail of 
 " Les Anglais I'ont prise ! " " Her Englishmen have taken her, 
 and turned her guns against us ! " Our captain was left stand- 
 ing alone beside the staff where the stars and stripes waved 
 black in the moonlight. 
 
 "The Alliance is hauling off, sir!" called the midshipman 
 of the mizzen-top. " She is making for the Pallas and the 
 Countess of Scarborough." 
 
 " Very good, sir, " was all the commodore said. 
 
 To us hearkening for his answer his voice betrayed no sign 
 of dismay. Seven times, I say, was that battle lost, and
 
 486 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 seven times regained again. What was it kept the crews at 
 their quarters and the officers at their posts through that hell 
 of flame and shot, when a madman could scarce- have hoped for 
 victory ? What but the knowledge that somewhere in the 
 swirl above us was still that unswerving and indomitable man 
 who swept all obstacles from before him, and into whose mind 
 the thouglit of defeat could not enter. His spirit held us to 
 our task, for flesh and blood might not have endured alone. 
 
 We had now but one of our starboard nine-pounders on 
 its carriage, and word came from below that our battery of 
 twelves was all but knocked to scrap iron, and their ports 
 blown into one yawning gap. Indeed, we did not have to be 
 told that sides and stanchions had been carried away, for the 
 deck trembled and teetered under us as we dragged Scolding 
 Sairy from her stand in the larboard waist, clearing a lane 
 for her between the bodies. Our feet slipped and slipped as 
 we hove, and burning bits of sails and splinters dropping from 
 aloft fell unheeded on our heads and shoulders. With the 
 energy of desperation I was bending to the pull, when the 
 Malay in front of me sank dead across the tackle. But, ere I 
 could touch him, he was tenderly lifted aside, and a familiar 
 figure seized the rope where the dead man's hands had warmed 
 it. Truly, the commodore was everywhere that night. 
 
 "Down to the surgeon with you, Richard!" he cried. "I 
 will look to the battery." 
 
 Dazed, I put my hand to my hair to find it warm and wring- 
 ing wet. When I had been hit, I knew not. But I shook my 
 head, for the very notion of that cockpit turned my stomach. 
 The blood was streaming from a gash in his own temple, to 
 which he gave no heed, and stood encouraging that panting 
 line until at last the gun was got across and hooked to the 
 ring-bolts of its companion that lay shattered there. " Serve 
 her with double-headed, my lads," he shouted, "and every 
 shot into the Englishman's mainmast ! " 
 
 "Ay, ay, sir," came the answer from every man of that 
 little remnant. 
 
 The Serapis, too, was now beginning to blaze aloft, and 
 choking wood-smoke eddied out of the Richard's hold and
 
 THE "SERAPIS" 487 
 
 mingled with the powder fumes. Then the enemy's fire 
 abreast us seemed to lull, and Mr. Stacey mounted the bul- 
 warks, and cried out: "You have cleared their decks, my 
 hearties ! " Aloft, a man was seen to clamber from our main- 
 yard into the very top of the Englishman, where he threw a 
 hand-grenade, as I thought, down her main hatch. An instant 
 after an explosion came like a clap of thunder in our faces, 
 and a great quadrant of light flashed as high as the Serapis's 
 trucks, and through a breach in her bulwarks I saw men run- 
 ning with only the collars of their shirts upon their naked 
 bodies. 
 
 'Twas at this critical moment, when that fearful battle once 
 more was won, another storm of grape brought the spars 
 about our heads, and that name which we dreaded most of all 
 was spread again. As we halted in consternation, a dozen 
 round shot ripped through our unengaged side, and a babel of 
 voices hailed the treacherous Landais with oaths and impreca- 
 tions. We made out the Alliance with a full head of canvas, 
 black and sharp, between us and the moon. Smoke hung 
 above her rail. Getting over against the signal fires blazing 
 on Elamborough Head, she wore ship and stood across our 
 bows, the midshipman on the forecastle singing out to her, 
 by the commodore's orders, to lay the enemy by the board. 
 There was no response. 
 
 "Do you hear us?" yelled Mr. Linthwaite. 
 
 " Ay, ay," came the reply ; and with it tlie smoke broke from 
 her and the grape and canister swept our forecastle. Then 
 the Alliance sailed away, leaving brave Mr. Caswell among the 
 many Landais had murdered. 
 
 The ominous clank of the chain pumps beat a sort of prelude 
 to what happened next. The gunner burst out of the hatch 
 with blood running down his face, shouting that the Richard 
 was sinking, and yelling for quarter as he made for the ensign- 
 staff on the poop, for the flag was shot away. Him the com- 
 modore felled with a pistol-butt. At the gunner's heels were 
 the hundred and fifty prisoners we had taken, released by the 
 master at arms. They swarmed out of the bowels of the ship 
 like a horde of Tartars, unkempt and wild and desperate with
 
 488 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 fear, until I thought that the added weight on the scarce- 
 supported deck would land us all in the bilges. Words fail 
 me when I come to describe the frightful panic of these crea- 
 tures, frenzied by the instinct of self-preservation. They 
 surged hither and thither as angry seas driven into a pocket of 
 a storm-swept coast. They trampled rough-shod over the 
 moaning heaps of wounded and dying, and crowded the crews 
 at the guns, who were powerless before their numbers. Some 
 fought like maniacs, and others flung themselves into the sea. 
 
 Those of us who had clung to hope lost it then. Standing 
 with my back to the mast, beating them off with a pike, visions 
 of an English prison-ship, of an English gallows, came before 
 me. I counted the seconds until the enemy's seamen would be 
 pouring through our ragged ports. The seventh and last time, 
 and we were beaten, for we had not men enough left on our two 
 decks to force them down again. Yes, — I shame to confess 
 it, — the heart went clean out of me, and with that the pain 
 pulsed and leaped in my head like a devil unbound. At a turn 
 of the hand I should have sunk to the boards, had not a voice 
 risen strong and clear above that turmoil, compelling every 
 man to halt trembling in his steps. 
 
 " Cast off, cast off! The Serapis is sinking. To the pumps, 
 ye fools, if you ivould save your lives!'' 
 
 That unerring genius of the gardener's son had struck the 
 only chord ! 
 
 They were like sheep before us as we beat them back into 
 the reeking hatches, and soon the pumps were heard bumping 
 with a renewed and a desperate vigour. Then, all at once, the 
 towering mainmast of the enemy cracked and tottered and 
 swung this way and that on its loosened shrouds. The first 
 intense silence of the battle followed, in the midst of which 
 came a cry from our top : — 
 
 " Their captain is hauling down, sir ! " 
 
 The sound which broke from our men could scarce be called 
 a cheer. That which they felt as they sank exhausted on the 
 blood of their comrades may not have been elation. My own 
 feeling was of unmixed wonder as I gazed at a calm profile 
 above me, sharp-cut against the moon.
 
 THE "SERAPIS" 489 
 
 I was moved as out of a revery by the sight of Dale swing- 
 ing across to the Serapis by the main brace pennant. Calling 
 on some of my boarders, I scaled our bulwarks and leaped 
 fairly into the middle of the gangway of the Se^ripis. 
 
 Such is nearly all of my remembrance of that momentous 
 occasion. I had caught the one glimpse of our first lieutenant 
 in converse with their captain and another officer, when a 
 naked seaman came charging at me. He had raised a pike 
 above his shoulder ere I knew what he was about, and my 
 senses left me.
 
 CHAPTER LIII 
 
 IN WHICH I MAKE SOME DISCOVERIES 
 
 The room had a prodigious sense of change about It. That 
 came over me with something of a shock, since the moment 
 before I had it settled that I was in Marlboro' Street. The 
 bare branches swaying in the wind outside should belong to 
 the trees in Freshwater Lane. But beyond the branches were 
 houses, the like of which I had no remembrance of in Annapolis. 
 And then my grandfather should be sitting in that window. 
 Surely, he was there! He moved! He was coming toward 
 me to say: "Richard, you are forgiven," and to brush his eyes 
 with his ruffles. 
 
 Then there was the bed-canopy, the pleatings of which were 
 gone, and it was turned white instead of the old blue. And the 
 chimney-place ! That was unaccountably smaller, and glowed 
 with a sea-coal fire. And the mantel was now but a bit of a 
 shelf, and held many things that seemed scarce at home on the 
 rough and painted wood, — gold filigree, and China and Japan, 
 and a French clock that ought not to have been just there. 
 Ah, the tea-cups! Here at last was something to touch a 
 fibre of my '")rain, but a pain came with the effort of memory. 
 So my eye . went back to my grandfather in the window. His 
 face was now become black as Scipio's, and he Avore a red 
 turban and a striped cotton gown that was too large for him. 
 And he was sewing. This was monstrous ! 
 
 I hurried over to the tea-cups, such a twinge did that dis- 
 covery give me. But they troubled me near as much, and the 
 sea-coal fire held strange images. The fascination in the win- 
 dow was not to be denied, for it stood in line with the houses 
 and the trees. Suddenly there rose up before me a gate. Yes, 
 
 490
 
 I MAKE SOME DISCOVERIES 491 
 
 I knew that gate, and the girlish figure leaning over it. They 
 were in Prince George Street. Behind them was a mass of 
 golden-rose bushes, and out of these came forth a black face 
 under a turban, saying, "Yes, mistis, I'se comin'." 
 
 *' Mammy — Mammy Lucy ! " 
 
 The figure in the window stirred, and the sewing fell into 
 its ample lap. 
 
 "Now Lawd 'a mercy! " 
 
 I trembled with a violence unspeakable. Was this but one 
 more of those thousand voices, harsh and gentle, rough and 
 tender, to which I had listened in vain this age past? The 
 black face was hovering over me now, and in an agony of 
 apprehension I reached up and felt its honest roughness. 
 Then I could have wept for joy. 
 
 " Mammy Lucy ! " 
 
 "Yes, Marse Dick?" 
 
 "Where— where is Miss Dolly?" 
 
 "Now, Marse Dick, doctah done say you not t' talk, suh." 
 
 "Where is Miss Dolly?" I cried, seizing her arm. 
 
 "Hush, Marse Dick. Miss Dolly '11 come terectly, suh. 
 She's lyin' down, suh.'' 
 
 The door creaked, and in my eagerness I tried to lift myself. 
 'Twas Aunt Lucy's hand that restrained me, and the next 
 face I saw was that of Dorothy's mother. But why did it 
 appear so old and sorrow-lined? And why was the hair now 
 of a whiteness with the lace of the cap? She took my fingers 
 in her own, and asked me anxiously if I felt any pain. 
 
 "Where am I, Mrs. Manners?" 
 
 "You are in London, Richard." 
 
 "In Arlington Street?" 
 
 She shook her head sadly. "No, my dear, not in Arlington 
 Street. But you are not to talk." 
 
 "And Dorothy? May I not see Dorothy? Aunt Lucy tells 
 me she is here." 
 
 Mrs. Manners gave the old mammy a glance of reproof, a 
 signal that alarmed me vastly. 
 
 "Oh, tell me, Mrs. Manners! You will speak the truth. 
 Tell me if she is gone away?"
 
 492 EICHARD CARVEL 
 
 " My dear boy, she is here, and under this very roof. And 
 you shall see her as soon as Dr. Barry will permit. "Which will 
 not be soon," she added with a smile, "if you persist in this 
 conduct. " 
 
 The threat had the desired effect. And Mrs. Manners quietly 
 left the room, and after a while as quietly came back again and 
 sat down by the fire, whispering to Aunt Lucy. 
 
 Fate, in some inexplicable way, had carried me into the 
 enemy's country and made me the guest of Mr. Marmaduke 
 Manners. As I lay staring upward, odd little bits of the past 
 came floating to the top of my mind, presently to be pieced 
 together. The injuries Mr. Marmaduke had done me were the 
 first to collect, since I was searching for the cause of my re- 
 sentment against him. The incidents arrived haphazard as 
 magic lanthorn views, but very vivid. His denial of me before 
 Mr. Dix, and his treachery at Vauxhall, when he had sent me 
 to be murdered. Next I felt myself clutching the skin over 
 his ribs in Arlington Street, when I had flung him across the 
 room in his yellow night-gown. That brought me to the most 
 painful scene of my life, when I had parted with Dorothy at 
 the top of the stairs. Afterward followed scraps of the years 
 at Gordon's Pride, and on top of them the talk with McAn- 
 drews. Here was the secret I sought. The crash had come. 
 And they were no longer in Mayfair, but must have taken 
 a house in some poorer part of London. This thought 'cast 
 me down tremendously. 
 
 And Dorothy! Had time changed her? 'Twas with that 
 query on my lips I fell asleep, to dream of the sun shining 
 down on Carvel Hall and Wilmot House ; of Aunt Hester and 
 Aunt Lucy, and a lass and a lad romping through pleasant 
 fields and gardens. 
 
 When I awoke it was broad day once more. A gentleman 
 sat on the edge of my bed. He had a queer, short face, ruddy 
 as the harvest moon, and he smiled good-humouredly when I 
 opened my eyes. 
 
 "I bid you good morning, Mr. Carvel, for the first time 
 since I have made your acquaintance," said he. "And how 
 do you feel, sir?"
 
 I MAKE SOME DISCOVEEIES 493 
 
 "I have never felt better in my life," I replied, whicli was 
 the whole truth. 
 
 "Well, vastly well," says he, laughing, "prodigious well for 
 a young man who has as many holes in him as have you. Do 
 you hear him, Mrs. Manners?" 
 
 At that last word, I popped up to look about the room, and 
 the doctor caught hold of me with ludicrous haste. A pain 
 shot through my body. 
 
 "Avast, avast, my hearty," cries he. "'Tis a miracle you 
 can speak, let alone carry your bed and walk for a while yet." 
 And he turned to Dorothy's mother, whom I beheld smiling at 
 me. " You will give him the physic, ma'am, at the hours I 
 have chosen. Egad, I begin to think we shall come through. 
 But pray remember, ma'am, if he talks, you are to put a wad 
 in his mouth." 
 
 "He shall have no opportunity to talk. Dr. Barry,'' said 
 Mrs. Manners. 
 
 " Save for a favour I have to ask you, doctor," I cried. 
 
 "'Od's bodkins! Already, sir? And what may that be?" 
 
 "That you will allow me to see Miss Manners." 
 
 He shook with laughter, and then winked at me very 
 roguishly. 
 
 "Oh!" says he, "and faith, I should be worse than cruel. 
 First she comes imploring me to see you, and so prettily that 
 a man of oak could not refuse her. And now it is you beg- 
 ging to see her. Had your eyes been opened, sir, you might 
 have had many a glimpse of Miss Dolly these three weeks 
 past." 
 
 " What ! She has been watching with me ? " I asked, in 
 a rapture not to be expressed. 
 
 "'Od's, but those are secrets. And the medical profession 
 is close-mouthed, Mr. Carvel. So you want to see her ? No," 
 cries he, " 'tis not needful to swear it on the Evangels. And 
 I let her come in, will you give me your honour as a gentleman 
 not to speak more than two words to her? " 
 
 " I promise anything, and you will not deny me looking at 
 her," said I. 
 
 He shook again, all over. "You rascal! You sad dog, sir!
 
 494 EICHAED CAEVEL 
 
 No, sir, faitli, you must shut your eyes. Eh, madam, must he 
 not shut his eyes?" 
 
 "They were playmates, doctor," answers Mrs. Manners. 
 She was laughing a little, too. 
 
 " Well, she shall come in. But remember that I shall have 
 my ear to the keyhole, and you go beyond your promise, out 
 she's whisked. So I caution you not to spend rashly those 
 two words, sir." 
 
 And he followed Mrs. Manners out of the room, frowning 
 and shaking his fist at me in mock fierceness. I would have 
 died for the man. For a space — a prodigious long space — I 
 lay very still, my heart bumping like a gun-carriage broke 
 loose, and my eyes riveted on the crack of the door. Then I 
 caught the sound of a light footstep, the knob turned, and joy 
 poured into my soul with the sweep of a Fundy tide. 
 
 " Dorothy ! " I cried. " Dorothy ! " 
 
 She put her finger to her lips. 
 
 "There, sir," said she, "now you have spoken them both at 
 once ! " 
 
 She closed the door softly behind her, and stood looking 
 down upon me with such a wondrous love-light in her eyes as 
 no man may describe. My fancy had not lifted me within its 
 compass, my dreams even had not imagined it. And the fire 
 from which it sprang does not burn in humbler souls. So she 
 stood gazing, those lips which once had been the seat of pride 
 now parted in a smile of infinite tenderness. But her head 
 she still held high, and her body straight. Down the front of 
 her dress fell a tucked apron of the whitest linen, and in her 
 hand was a cup of steaming broth. 
 
 "You are to take this, Eichard," she commanded. Ana 
 added, with a touch of her old mischief, "Mind, sir, if I 
 hear a sound out of you, I am to disappear like the fairy god- 
 mother." 
 
 I knew full well she meant it, and the terror of losing her 
 kept me silent. She put down the cup, placed another pillow 
 behind my head with a marvellous deftness, and then began 
 feeding me in dainty spoonfuls something which was surely 
 nectar. And mine eyes, too, had their feast. Never before
 
 I MAKE SOME DISCOVERIES 496 
 
 had I seen my lady in this gentle guise, this task of nursing 
 the sick, which her doing raised to a queenly art. 
 
 Her face had changed some. Years of trial unknown to me 
 had left an ennobling mark upon her features, increasing their 
 power an hundred fold. And the levity of girlish years was 
 gone. How I burned to question her! But her lips were now 
 tight closed, her glance now and anon seeking mine, and then 
 falling with an exquisite droop to the coverlet. For the old 
 archness, at least, would never be eradicated. Presently, after 
 she had taken the cup and smoothed my pillow, I reached out 
 for her hand. It was a boldness of which I had not believed 
 myself capable ; but she did not resist, and even, as I thought, 
 pressed my fingers with her own slender ones, the red of our 
 Maryland holly blushing in her cheeks. And what need of 
 words, indeed! Our thoughts, too, flew coursing hand in 
 hand through primrose paths, and the angels themselves were 
 not to be envied. 
 
 A master might picture my happiness, waking and sleeping, 
 through the short winter days that came and went like flashes 
 of gray light. The memory of them is that of a figure tall and 
 lithe, a little more rounded than of yore, and a chiselled face 
 softened by a power that is one of the world's mysteries. 
 Dorothy had looked the lady in rags, and housewife's cap and 
 apron became her as well as silks or brocades. When for any 
 reason she was absent from my side, I moped, to the quiet 
 amusement of Mrs. Manners and the more boisterous delight 
 of Aunt Lucy, who took her turn sewing in the window. I 
 was near to forgetting the use of words, until at length, one 
 rare morning when the sun poured in, the jolly doctor dressed 
 my wounds with more despatch than common, and vouchsafed 
 that I might talk awhile that day. 
 
 "Oh!" cries he, putting me as ever to confusion, "but 1 
 have a guess whom my gentleman will be wishing to talk with. 
 But I'll warrant, sir, you have said a deal more than I have 
 any notion of without opening your lips." 
 
 And he went away, intolerably pleased with his joke. 
 
 Alas for the perversity of maiden natures ! It was not my 
 dear nurse who brought my broth that morning, but Mrs.
 
 496 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 Manners herself. She smiled at my fallen face, and took a 
 chair at my bedside. 
 
 "Now, my dear boy," she said, "you may ask what ques- 
 tions you choose, and I will tell you very briefly how you have 
 come here." 
 
 "I have been thinking, Mrs. Manners," I replied, "that if 
 it were known that you harboured one of John Paul Jones's 
 officers in London, very serious trouble might follow for 
 you." 
 
 I thought her brow clouded a little. 
 
 " No one knows of it, Richard, or is likely to. Dr. Barry, 
 like so many in England, is a good Whig and friend to America. 
 And you are in a part of London far removed from May fair." 
 She hesitated, and then continued in a voice that strove to be 
 lighter: "This little house is in Charlotte Street, Mary-le- 
 Bone, for the war has made all of us suffer some. And we 
 are more fortunate than many, for we are very comfortable 
 here, and though I say it, happier than in Arlington Street. 
 And the best of our friends are still faithful. Mr. Fox, with 
 all his greatness, has never deserted us, nor my Lord Coniyn, 
 Indeed, we owe them much more than I can tell you of now," 
 she said, and sighed. "They are here every day of the world 
 to inquire for vou, and it was his Lordship brought you out of 
 Holland." 
 
 And so I had reason once more to bless this stanch friend! 
 
 " Out of Holland? " I cried. 
 
 "Yes. One morning as we sat down to breakfast, Mr. Rip- 
 ley's clerk brought in a letter for Dorothy. But I must say 
 first that Mr. Dulany, who is in London, told us that you were 
 with John Paul Jones. You can have no conception, Richard, 
 of the fear and hatred that name has aroused in England. 
 Insurance rates have gone up past belief, and the King's ships 
 are cruising in every direction after the traitor and pirate, as 
 they call him. We have prayed daily for your safety, and 
 Dorothy — well, here is the letter she received. It had been 
 opened by the inspector, and allowed to pass. And it is to be 
 kept as a curiosity." She drew it from the pocket of her 
 apron and began to read.
 
 i MAKE SOME DISCOVERIES 497 
 
 •'The Texel, October 3, 1779. 
 
 "My dear Miss Dorothy: I would not be thought to 
 flutter y'r Gentle Bosom with Needless Alarms, nor do I believe 
 I have misjudged y'r Warm & Generous Nature when I write 
 you that One who is held very High in y'r Esteem lies Exceed- 
 ing I.l at this Place, who might by Tender Nursing regain his 
 Health. I seize this Opportunity to say, my dear Lady, that I 
 have ever held my too Brief Acquaintance with you in London 
 as one of the Sacred Associations of my Life. From the Little 
 I saw of you then I feel Sure that this Appeal will not pass in 
 Vain. I remain y'r most Humble and Devoted Admirer, 
 
 "James Orchardson." 
 
 "And she knew it was from Commodore Jones?" I asked, 
 in astonishment. 
 
 "My dear," replied Mrs. Manners, with a quiet smile, "we 
 women have a keener instinct than men — though I believe 
 your commodore has a woman's intuition. Yes, Dorothy 
 knew. And I shall never forget the fright she gave me as 
 she rose from the table and handed me the sheet to read, cry- 
 ing but the one word. She sent of£ to Brook Street for Lord 
 Comyn, who came at once, and in half an hour the dear fellow 
 was set out for Dover. He waited for nothing, since war witli 
 Holland was looked for at any day. And his Lordship him- 
 self will tell you about that rescue. Within the week he had 
 brought you to vis. Your skull had been trepanned, you had 
 this great hole in your thigh, and your heart was beating but 
 slowly. By Mr. Fox's advice we sent for Dr. Barry, who is a 
 skilled surgeon, and a discreet man despite his manner. And 
 you have been here for better than three weeks, Richard, hang- 
 ing between life and death." 
 
 "And I owe my life to you and to Dorothy," I said 
 
 " To Lord Comyn and Dr. Barry, rather," she replied quickly. 
 "We have done little but keep the life they saved. And I 
 thank God it was given me to do it for the son of your mothei 
 and father." 
 
 Something of the debt I owed them was forced upon me, 
 2k
 
 498 EICHARD CARVEL 
 
 They were poor, doubtless driven to make ends meet, and yet 
 they had taken me in, called upon near the undivided services 
 of an able surgeon, and worn themselves out with nursing me. 
 Nor did I forget the risk they ran with such a guest. For the 
 first time in many years my heart relented toward Mr. Marma- 
 duke. For their sakes I forgave him over and over what I 
 had suffered, and my treatment of him lay like a weight upon 
 me. And how was I to repay them? They needed the money 
 I had cost them, of that I was sure. After the sums I had 
 expended to aid the commodore with the Ranger and the Bon 
 homme Richard, I had scarce a farthing to my name. With 
 such leaden reflections was I occupied when I heard Mrs. Man- 
 ners speaking to me. 
 
 " Richard, I have some news for you which the doctor thinks 
 you can bear to-day. Mr. Dulany, who is exiled like the rest 
 of us, brought them. It is a great happiness to be able to tell 
 you, my dear, that you are now the master of Carvel Hall, and 
 like to stay so." 
 
 The tears stole into her eyes as she spoke. And the 
 enormity of those tidings, coming as rhey did on the top of 
 my dejection, benumbed me. All they meant was yet far 
 away from my grasp, but the one supreme result that was first 
 up to me brought me near to fainting in my weakness. 
 
 "I would not raise your hopes unduly, Richard," the good 
 lady was saying, " but the best informed here seem to think 
 that England cannot push the war much farther. If the 
 Colonies win, you are secure in your title." 
 
 "But how is it come about, Mrs. Manners?" I demanded, 
 with my first breath. 
 
 " You doubtless have heard that before the Declaration was 
 signed at Philadelphia your Uncle Grafton went to the com- 
 mittee at Annapolis and contributed to the patriot cause, and 
 took very promptly the oath of the Associated Freemen of 
 Maryland, thus forsaking the loyalist party — " 
 
 "Yes, yes," I interrupted, "I heard of it when I was on the 
 Cabot. He thought his property in danger." 
 
 "Just so," said Mrs. Manners, laughing; "he became the 
 best and most exemplary of patriots, even as he had been the
 
 I MAKE SOME DISCOVERIES 499 
 
 best of Tories. He sent wheat and money to the army, and 
 went about bemoaning that his only son fought under the 
 English flag. But very little fighting has Philip done, my 
 dear. Well, when the big British fleet sailed up tlie bay in 
 '77, your precious uncle made the first false step in his long 
 career of rascality. He began to correspond with the British 
 at Philadelphia, and one of his letters was captured near the 
 Head of Elk. A squad was sent to the Kent estate, where he 
 had been living, to arrest him, but he made his escape to New 
 York. And his lands were at once confiscated by the state." 
 
 "Then they belong to the state," I said, with misgiving. 
 
 " Not so fast, Richard. At the last session of the Maryland 
 Legislature a bill was introduced, through the influence of 
 Mr. Bordley and others, to restore them to you, their rightful 
 owner. And insomuch as you were even then serving the 
 country faithfully and bravely, and had a clean and honour- 
 able record of service, the whole of the lands were given to 
 you. And now, my dear, you have had excitement enough 
 for one day."
 
 CHAPTER LIV 
 
 MORE DISCOVERIES 
 
 All that morning I pondered over the devious lane of my 
 life, which had led up to so fair a garden. And one thing 
 above all kept turning and turning in my head, until I thought 
 I should die of waiting for its fullilnient. Now was I free to 
 ask Dorothy to marry me, to promise her the ease and comfort 
 that had once been hers, should God bring us safe back to 
 Maryland. The change in her was little less than a marvel 
 to me, when I remembered the wilful miss who had come to 
 London bent upon pleasure alone. Truly, she was of that rare 
 metal which refines, and then outshines all others. And there 
 was much I could not understand. A miracle had saved her 
 from the Duke of Chartersea, but why she had refused so 
 many great men and good was beyond my comprehension. 
 Not a glimpse of her did I get that day, though my eyes wan- 
 dered little from the knob of the door. And even from Aunt 
 Lucy no satisfaction was to be had as to the cause of her 
 absence. 
 
 "'Clare to goodness, Marse Dick," said she, with great 
 solemnity, " 'clare to goodness, I'se nursed Miss Dolly since 
 she was dat high, and neber one minnit ob her life is I knowed 
 what de chile gwine t' do de next. She ain't neber yit donw 
 what I calcelated on." 
 
 The next morning, after the doctor had dressed my wounds 
 and bantered me to his heart's content, enters Mr. Marmaduke 
 Manners. I was prodigiously struck by the change in him, 
 and pitied him then near as much as I had once despised him. 
 He was arrayed in finery, as of old. But the finery was some- 
 thing shabby; the lace was frayed at the edges, there was a 
 
 500
 
 MORE DISCOVERIES 601 
 
 neat but obvious patch in his small-clothes, and two more in 
 his coat. His air was what distressed me most of all, being 
 that of a man who spends his days seeking favours and getting 
 none. I had seen too many of the type not to know the sign 
 of it. 
 
 He ran forward and gave me his hand, which I grasped as 
 heartily as my weakness would permit. 
 
 "They would not let me see you until to-day, my dear 
 Richard," he exclaimed. "I bid 3'ou welcome to what is left 
 of our home. 'Tis not Arlington Street, my lad." 
 
 "But more of a home than was that grander house, Mr. 
 Manners," 
 
 He sighed heavily. 
 
 " Alas ! " said he, " poverty is a bitter draught, and we have 
 drunk deep of it since last we beheld you. My great friends 
 know me no more, and will not take my note for a shilling. 
 They do not remember the dinners and suppers I gave them. 
 Faith, this war has brought nothing but misery, and how we 
 are to get through it, God knows ! " 
 
 Now I understood it was not the war, but Mr. Marmaduke 
 himself, which had carried his family to this pass. And 
 some of my old resentment rekindled. 
 
 " I know that I have brought you great additional anxiety 
 and expense, Mr. Manners," I answered somewhat testily. 
 "The care I have been to Mrs. Manners and Dorothy I may 
 never repay. But it gives me pleasure to feel, sir, that I 
 am in a position to reimburse you, and likewise to loan you 
 something until your lands begin to pay again." 
 
 "There the Carvel speaks," he cried, "and the true son of 
 our generous province. You can have no conception of the 
 misfortunes come to me out of this quarrel. The mortgages on 
 my Western Shore tobacco lands are foreclosed, and Wilmot 
 House itself is all but gone. You well know, of course, that 
 I would do the same by you, Richard." 
 
 I smiled, but more in sadness than amusement. Hardship 
 had only degraded Mr. Marmaduke the more, and even in 
 trouble his memory was convenient as is that of most people 
 in prosperity. I was of no mind to jog his recollection. Bui
 
 502 RICHAKD CAEVEL 
 
 I wanted badly to ask about bis Grace. Where had my fine 
 nobleman been at the critical point of his friend's misfortunes? 
 For I had had many a wakeful night over that same query 
 since my talk with McAndrews. 
 
 "So you have come to your own again, Eichard, my lad," 
 said Mr. Marmaduke, breaking in upon my train. " I have felt 
 for you deeply, and talked many a night with Margaret and 
 Dorothy over the wrong done you. Between you and me," 
 he whispered, " that uncle of yours is an arrant knave, whom 
 the patriots have served with justice. To speak truth, sir, I 
 begin myself to have a little leaning to that cause which you 
 have so bravely espoused." 
 
 This time I was close to laughing outright. But he was far 
 too serious to remark my mirth. He commenced once more, 
 with an ahem, which gave me a better inkling than frankness 
 of what bothered him. 
 
 "You will have an agent here, Eichard, I take it," said he. 
 "Your grandfather had one. Ahem! Doubtless this agent 
 will advance you all you shall have need of, when you are well 
 enough to see him. Fact is, he might come here." 
 
 " You forget, Mr. Manners, that I am a pirate and an outlaw, 
 and that you are the shielder of such." 
 
 That thought shook the pinch of Holland he held all over 
 him. But he recovered. 
 
 " My dear Eichard, men of business are of no faction and of 
 no nation. Their motto is discretion. And to obtain the 
 factorship in London of a like estate to yours one of them 
 would wear a plaster over his mouth, I'll warrant you. You 
 have but to summon one of the rascals, promise him a bit of 
 war interest, and he will leave you as much as you desire, and 
 nothing spoken." 
 
 "To talk plainly, Mr. Manners," I replied, "I think 
 'twould be the height of folly to resort to such means. When 
 I am better, we shall see what can be done." 
 
 His face plainly showed his disappointment. 
 
 "To be sure," he said, in a whining tone, "I had forgotten 
 your friends. Lord Comyn and Mr. Fox. They may do some- 
 thing for you, now you own your estate. My dear sir, I dislike
 
 MORE DISCOVERIES 503 
 
 to say aught against any man. Mrs. Manners will tell you ot 
 their kindness to us, but I vow I have not been able to see it. 
 With all the money at their command they will not loan me a 
 penny in my pressing need. And I shame to say it, my own 
 daughter prevents me from obtaining the money to keep us out 
 of the Fleet. I know she has spoken to Dulany. Think of 
 it, Richard, my own daughter, upon whom I lavished all when 
 I had it, who might have made a score of grand matches when 
 I gave her the opportunity, and now we had all been rolling in 
 wealth. I'll be sworn I don't comprehend her, nor her mother 
 either, who abets her. For they prefer to cook INfaryland 
 dainties lor a living, to put in the hands of the footmen of the 
 ladies whose houses they once visited. And how much of that 
 money do you suppose I get, sir? Will you believe it that I" 
 (he was shrieking now), "that I, the man of the family, am 
 allowed only my simple meals, a farthing for snuff, and not a 
 groat for chaise-hire? At my age I am obliged to walk to and 
 from their lordships' side entrances in patched clothes, egad, 
 when a new suit might obtain us a handsome year's income! " 
 
 I turned my face to the wall, completely overcome, and the 
 tears scalding in my eyes, at the thought of Dorothy and her 
 mother bending over the stove cooking delicacies for their 
 livelihood, and watching at my bedside night and day despite 
 their weariness of body. And not a word out of these noble 
 women of their sacrifice, nor of the shame and trouble and 
 labour of their lives, wlio always had been used to every 
 luxury! Nothing but cheer had they brought to the sick- 
 room, and not a sign of their poverty and hardship, for they 
 knew that their broths and biscuit and jellies must have choked 
 me. No. It remained for this contemptille cur of a husband 
 and father to open my eyes. 
 
 He had risen when I had brought myself to look at him. 
 And as I hope for heaven he took my emotion for pity of him- 
 self. 
 
 " I have worried you enough for one day with my troubles, 
 my lad," said he. "But they are very hard to bear, and once 
 in a while it does me good to speak of them." 
 
 I did not trust myself to reply.
 
 504 RICHAED CARVEL 
 
 It was Aunt Lucy who spent the morning with me, and 
 Mrs. Manners brought my dinner. I observed a questioning 
 glance as she entered, which I took for an attempt to read 
 whether Mr. Marmaduke had spoke more than lie ought. But 
 I would have bitten off my tongue rather than tell her of my 
 discoveries, though perhaps my voice may have betrayed an 
 added concern. She stayed to talk on the progress of the war, 
 relating the gallant storming of Stony Point by Mad Anthony 
 in July, and the latest Tory insurrection on our own Eastern 
 Shore. She passed from these matters to a discussion of Gen- 
 eral Washington's new policy of the defensive, for Mrs. Man- 
 ners had always been at heart a patriot. And whilst I lay 
 listening with a deep interest, in comes my lady herself. So 
 was it ever, when you least expected her, even as Mammy had 
 said. She curtseyed very prettily, with her chin tilted back 
 and her cheeks red, and asked me how I did. 
 
 "And where have you been these days gone, Miss Will-o'- 
 the-Wisp, since the doctor has given me back my tongue?" 
 I cried. 
 
 "I like you better when you are asleep," says she. "For 
 then you are sometimes witty, though I doubt not the wit is 
 other people's." 
 
 So I saw that she had tricked me, and taken her watch at 
 night. For I slept like a trooper after a day's forage. As to 
 what I might have said in my dreams — that thought made me 
 red as an apple. 
 
 "Dorothy, Dorothy," says her mother, smiling, "you would 
 provoke a saint." 
 
 " Which would be better fun than teasing a sinner," replies 
 the minx, with a little face at me. " Mr. Carvel, a gentleman 
 craves the honour of an audience from your Excellency." 
 
 " A gentleman ! " 
 
 " Even so. He presents a warrant from your Excellency's 
 physician." 
 
 With that she disappeared, Mrs. Manners going after her. 
 And who should come bursting in at the door but my Lord 
 Comyn? He made one rush at me, and despite my weakness 
 bestowed upon me a bear's hug.
 
 MORE DISCOVERIES 505 
 
 "Oh, Richard," cried he, when he had released me, "I give 
 you my oath that I never hoped to see you rise from that bed 
 when we laid you there. But they say that love works won- 
 drous cures, and, egad, I believe that now. 'Tis love is curing 
 you, my lad." 
 
 He held me off at arm's length, the old-time affection beam- 
 ing from his handsome face. 
 
 "What am I to say to you, Jack?" I answered. And my 
 voice was all but gone, for the sight of him revived the memory 
 of every separate debt of the legion I owed him. "How am I 
 to piece words enough together to thank you for this supreme 
 act of charity?" 
 
 " 'Od's, you may thank your own devilish thick head," said 
 my Lord Comyn. "I should never have bothered my own 
 about you were it not for her. Had it not been for her happi- 
 ness do you imagine I would have picked you out of that crew 
 of half -dead pirates in the Texel fort? " 
 
 I must needs brush my cheek, then, with the sleeve of my 
 night-rail. 
 
 "And will you give me some account of this last prodigious 
 turn you have done her?" I said. 
 
 He laughed, and pinched me playfully. 
 
 "Now are you coming to your senses," said he. "There 
 was cursed little to the enterprise, Richard, and that's the 
 truth! I got down to Dover, and persuaded the master of a 
 schooner to carry me to Rotterdam. That was not so difficult, 
 since your Terror of the Seas was locked up safe enough in 
 the Texel. In Rotterdam I had a travelling-chaise stripped, 
 and set off at the devil's pace for the Texel. You must know 
 that the Avhole Dutch nation was in an uproar — as much of 
 an uproar as those boors ever reach — over the arrival of your 
 infamous squadron. The Court Party and our ambassador 
 were for having you kicked out, and the Republicans for mak- 
 ing you at home. I heard that their High Mighti-iesses had 
 given Paul Jones the use of the Texel fort for his wounded 
 and his prisoners, and thither I ran. And I was even cursing 
 the French sentry at the drawbridge in his own tongue, when 
 up comes your commodore himself. You may quarter me if I
 
 506 EICHARD CARVEL 
 
 wasn't knocked olf my feet when I recognized the identica. 
 peacock of a sea-captain we had pulled out of Castle Yard 
 along with you, and oifered a commission in the Royal 
 Navy." 
 
 " Dolly hadn't told you? " 
 
 " Dolly tell me ! " exclaimed his Lordship, scornfully. " She 
 was in a state to tell me nothing the morning I left, save only 
 to bring you to England alive, and repeat it over and over. 
 But to return to your captain, — he, too, was taken all aback. 
 But pres,ently he whipt out my name, and I his, without the 
 Jones. And when I told him my errand, he wept on my neck, 
 and said he had obtained unlimited leave of absence for you 
 from the Paris commissioners. He took me up into a private 
 room in the fort, where you were ; and the surgeon, who was 
 there at the time, said that your chances were as slim as any 
 man's he had ever seen. Faith, you looked it, my lad. At 
 sight of your face I took one big gulp, for I had no notion of 
 getting you back to her. And rather than come without you, 
 and look into her eyes, I would have drowned myself in the 
 Straits of Dover. 
 
 "Despite the host of troubles he had on his hands, your 
 commodore himself came with us to Rotterdam. Now I pro- 
 test I love that man, who has more humanity in him than most 
 of the virtuous people in England who call him hard names, 
 If you could have seen him leaning over you, and speaking to 
 you, and feeling every minute for your heart-beats, egad, you 
 would have cried. And when I took you off to the schooner, 
 he gave me an hundred directions how to care for you, and 
 then his sorrow bowled him all in a heap." 
 
 "And is the commodore still at the Texel?" I asked, after 
 a space. 
 
 "Ay, that he is, with our English cruisers thick as gulls 
 outside waiting for a dead fish. But he has spurned the French 
 commission they have offered him, saying that of the Congress 
 is good enough for him. And he declares openly that when 
 he gets ready he Avill sail out in the Alliance under the ocars 
 and Stripes. And for this I honour him," added he, "and 
 Charles honours him, and so must all Englishmen honour him
 
 MORE DISCOVERIES 507 
 
 when they come to their senses. And by Gad's life, I believe 
 he will get clear, for he is a marvel at seamanship." 
 
 "I pray with all my heart that he may," said I, fervently. 
 
 "God help him if they catch him!" my Lord exclaimed. 
 " You should see the bloody piratical portraits they are scat- 
 tering over London." 
 
 " Has the risk you ran getting me into England ever occurred 
 to you, Jack?" I asked, with some curiosity. 
 
 "Faith, not until the day after we got back, Richard," says 
 he, "when I met Mr. Attorney General on the street. 'Sdeath, 
 I turned and ran the other way like the devil was after me. 
 For Charles Fox vows that conscience makes cowards of the 
 best of us." 
 
 " So that is some of Charles's wisdom ! " I cried, and laughed 
 until I was forced to stop from pain. 
 
 "Come, my hearty," says Jack, "you owe me nothing for 
 fishing you out of Holland — that is her debt. But I declare 
 that you must one day pay me for saving her for you. What! 
 have I not always sworn tliat she loved you? Did I not pull 
 you into the coffee-room of the Star and Garter years ago, and 
 tell you that same?" 
 
 My face warmed, though I said nothing. 
 
 "Oh, you sly dog! I'll warrant there has been many a 
 tender talk just wliere I'm sitting," 
 
 "Not one," said I. 
 
 " 'Slife, then, what have you been doing," he cries, "seeing 
 her every day and not asking her to marry you, my master of 
 Carvel Hall?" 
 
 " Since I am permitted to use my tongue, she has not come 
 near me, save when I slept," I answered ruefully. 
 
 " Nor will she, I'll be sworn," says he, shaken with laughter. 
 "'Ods, have you no invention? Egad, you must feign sleep, 
 and seize her unawares." 
 
 I did not inform his Lordship how excellent this plan seemed 
 to me. 
 
 "ii.nd I possessed the love of such a woman, Richard," he 
 said, in another tone, "I think I should die of happiness. She 
 will never tell you how these weeks past she has scarce left
 
 508 EICHAED CARVEL 
 
 your side. The threats combined of her mother and the doctorj 
 and Charles and me, would not induce her to take any sleep. 
 And time and time have I walked from here to Brook Street 
 without recognizing a step of the way, lifted clear out of my- 
 self by the sight of her devotion," 
 
 What was my life, indeed, that such a blessing should come 
 into it! 
 
 "When the crash came," he continued, "'twas she took 
 command, and 'tis God's pity she had not done so long before. 
 Mr. Marmaduke was pushed to the bottom of the family, where 
 he belongs, and was given only snuff-money. She would give 
 him no opportunity to contract another debt, and even charged 
 Charles and me to loan him nothing. Nor would she receive 
 aught from us, but " (he glanced at me uneasily) — ■ " but she 
 and Mrs. Manners must take to cooking delicacies — " 
 
 "Yes, yes, I know," I faltered. 
 
 "What! has the pup23y told you?" cried he. 
 
 I nodded. "He was in here this morning, with his woes." 
 
 " And did he speak of the bargain he tried to make with our 
 old friend, his Grace of Chartersea? " 
 
 "He tried to sell her again?" I cried, my breath catch- 
 ing. " I have feared as much since I heard of their misfor- 
 tunes." 
 
 "Yes," replied Comyn, "that was the first of it. 'T^\as 
 while they were still in Arlington Street, and before Mrs. 
 Manners and Dorothy knew. Mr. Marmaduke goes posting off 
 to Nottinghamshire, and comes back inside the duke's OAvn car- 
 riage. And his Grace goes to dine in Arlington Street for the 
 first time in years. Dorothy had wind of the trouble then, 
 Charles having warned her. And not a word would she speak 
 to Chartersea the whole of the dinner, nor look to the right or 
 left of her plate. And when the servants are gone, up gets 
 my lady with a sweep and confronts him. 
 
 " 'Will your Grace spare me a minute in the drawing-room? 
 says she. 
 
 " He blinked at her in vast astonishment, and pushed back 
 his chair. When she was come to the door, she turns with 
 another sweep on Mr. Marmaduke, who was trotting after.
 
 MORE DISCOVERIES 509 
 
 '*'• You will please to remain here, father/ she said, 'what 
 I am to say is for his Grace's ear alone.' 
 
 " Of what she spoke to the duke I can form only an estimate^ 
 Richard," my Lord concluded, "but I'll lay a fortune 'twas 
 greatly to the point. For in a little while Chartersea comes 
 stumbling down the steps. And lie has never darkened the 
 door since. And the cream of it is," said Comyn, ".that her 
 father gave me this himself, with a face a foot long, for me to 
 sympathize. The little beast has strange bursts of confidence." 
 
 "And stranger confidants," I ejaculated, thinking of the 
 morning, and of Courtenay's letter, long ago. 
 
 But the story had made my blood leap again with pride of 
 her. The picture in my mind had followed his every sentence, 
 and even the very words she must have used were ringing in 
 my ears. 
 
 Then, as we sat talking in low tones, the door opened, and 
 a hearty voice cried out : — 
 
 " Now where is this rebel, this traitor? They tell me one 
 lies hid in this house. 'Slife, I must have at him! " 
 
 " Mr. Eox ! " I exclaimed. 
 ■ He took my hands in his, and stood regarding me. 
 
 "For the convenience of my friends, I was christened 
 Charles," said he. 
 
 I stared at him in amazement. He was grown a deal stouter, 
 but my eye was caught and held by the blue coat and buff 
 waistcoat he wore. They were frayed and stained and shabby, 
 yet they.seemed all of a piece with some new grandeur come 
 upon the man. 
 
 "Is all the world turning virtuous? Is the millennium 
 arrived?" I cried. 
 
 He smiled, with his old boyish smile. 
 
 "You think me changed some since that morning we drove 
 together to Holland House — do you remember it — after the 
 night at St. Stephen's?" 
 
 "Remember it!" I repeated, with emphasis, "I'll warrant 
 I can give you every bit of our talk." 
 
 " I have seen many men since, but never have I met your 
 equal for a most damnable frankness, Richard Carvel. Even
 
 510 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 Jack, here, is not half so blunt and uncompromising. But 
 you took my fancy — God knows why! — that first night I 
 clapped eyes on you in Arlington Street, and I loved you when 
 your simplicity made us that speech at Brooks's Club. So you 
 have not forgotten that morning under the trees, when the dew 
 was on the grass. Faith, I am glad of it. What children we 
 were!'\he said, and sighed. 
 
 "And yet you were a Junior Lord," I said. 
 
 "Which is more than I am now," he answered. "Somehow 
 — you may laugh — somehow I have never been able to shake 
 off the influence of your words, Richard. Your cursed earnest- 
 ness scared me," 
 
 "Scared you?" I cried, in astonishment. 
 
 "Just that," said Charles. "Jack Avill bear witness that I 
 have said so to Dolly a score of times. For I had never imag- 
 ined such a single character as yours. You know we were all 
 of us rakes at fifteen, to whom everything good in the universe 
 was a joke. And do you recall the teamster we met by the 
 Park, and how he arrested his salute when he saw who it was? 
 At another time I should have laughed over that, but it cut me 
 to have it happen when you were along." 
 
 "And I'll lay an hundred guineas to a farthing the fellow 
 would put his head on the block for Charles now," cut in his 
 Lordship, with his hand on Mr. Fox's shoulder. " Behold, 
 Prophet," he cried, "one who is become the champion of the 
 People he reviled! Behold the friend of Rebellion and LUe 
 Majeste, the viper in Britannia's bosom!" 
 
 "Oh, have done. Jack," said Mr. Fox, impatiently, "you 
 have no more music in your soul than a cow. Damned little 
 virtue attaches to it, Richard," he went on. "North threw 
 me out, and the king would have nothing to do with me, so I 
 had to pick up with you rebels and traitois." 
 
 "You will not believe hira, Richard," cried my Lord; "you 
 have only to look at him to see that he lies. Take note of the 
 ragged uniform of the rebel army he carries, and then think 
 of him en petit maitre, with his cabriolet and his chestnuts. 
 Egad, he might be as rich as Rigby were it not for those prin- 
 ciples which he chooses to deride. And I have seen hirjo
 
 MORE DISCOVERIES 611 
 
 reduced to a crown for them. I tell you, Richard," said my 
 Lord, "by espousing your cause Charles is become greater 
 than the King. For he has the hearts of the English people, 
 which George has not, and the allegiance of you Americans, 
 which George will never have. And if you once heard him 
 in Parliament, you should hear him now, and see the Speakei 
 wagging his wig like a man bewitched, and hear friends and 
 enemies calling out for him to go on whenever he gives the sign 
 of a pause." 
 
 This speech of his Lordship's may seem cold in the writing. 
 my dears, and you who did not know him may wonder at it. 
 It had its birth in an admiration few men receive, and which, 
 in Charles Fox's devoted coterie was dangerously near to 
 idolatry. During the recital of it Charles walked to the win- 
 dow, and there stood looking out upon the gray prospect, 
 seemingly paying but little attention. But when Comyn had 
 finished, he wheeled on us with a smile. 
 
 "Egad, he will be telling you next that I have renounced 
 the devil and all his works, Richard," said he. 
 
 " 'Oons, that I will not,' his Lordship made haste to declare. 
 "For they were born in him, and will die with him." 
 
 "And you, Jack," I asked, "how is it that you are not in 
 arms, for the King, and commanding one of his frigates?" 
 
 " Why, it is Charles's fault," said my Lord, smiling. "Were 
 it not for him I should be helping Sir George Collier lay 
 waste to your coast towns."
 
 CHAPTER LV 
 
 **THE LOVE OP A MAID FOR A MAN " 
 
 The next morning, wlien Dr. Barry had gone, Mrs. Manners 
 propped me up in bed and left me for a little, so she said. 
 Then who should come in with my breakfast on a tray but my 
 lady herself, looking so fresh and beautiful that she startled 
 me vastly. 
 
 "A penny for your thoughts, Richard," she cried. ''Why, 
 you are as grave as a screech-owl this brave morning." 
 
 "To speak truth, Dolly," said I, "I was wondering how the 
 commodore is to get away from the Texel, with half the Bi itish 
 aavy lying in wait outside." 
 
 "Do not worry your head about that," said she, setting down 
 the tray; "it will be mere child's play to him. Oh, but I 
 should like to see your commodore again, and tell him how 
 much I love him." 
 
 "I pray that you may have the chance," I replied. 
 
 With a marvellous quickness she had tied the napkin beneath 
 my chin, not so much as looking at the knot. Then she stepped 
 to the mantel and took down one of Mr. Wedgwood's cups 
 and dishes, and wiping them with her apron, filled the cup 
 with fragrant tea, which she tendered me with her eyes spar- 
 kling. 
 
 "Your Excellency is the first to be honoured with this ser- 
 vice," says she, with a curtsey. 
 
 I was as a man Avithout a tongue, my hunger gone fron? 
 sheer happiness — and fright. And yet eating the breakfast 
 with a relish because she had made it. She busied herself 
 about the room, dusting here and tidying there, and anon 
 throwing a glance at me to see if I needed anything. My 
 
 612
 
 «THE LOVE OF A MAID FOR A MAN" 513 
 
 eyes followed her hither and thither. When I had finished, 
 she undid the napkin, and brushed the crumbs from tlie cover- 
 let. 
 
 " You are not going? " I said, with dismay. 
 
 "Did you wish anything more, sir?" she asked. 
 
 " Oh, Dorothy, " I cried, " it is you I want, and you will not 
 come near me." 
 
 For an instant she stood irresolute. Then she put down the 
 tray and came over beside me. 
 
 "Do you really want me, sir? 
 
 "Dorothy," I began, " I must first tell you that I have some 
 guess at the sacrifice you are making for my sake, and of the 
 trouble and danger which I bring you." 
 
 Without more ado she put her hand over my mouth. 
 
 "No," she said, reddening, "you shall tell me nothing of 
 the sort." 
 
 I seized her hand, however it struggled, and holding it fast, 
 continued: — 
 
 "And I have learned that you have been watching with me 
 by night, and working by day, when you never should liave 
 worked at all. To think that you should be reduced to that, 
 and I not know it ! " 
 
 Her eyes sought mine for a fleeting second. 
 
 "Why, you silly boy, I have made a fortune out of my 
 cookery. And fame, too, for now am I known from Mary-le- 
 bone to Chelsea, while before my name was unheard of out of 
 little May fair. Indeed, I would not have missed the experi- 
 ence for a lady-in-waiting-ship. I have learned a deal since 
 I saw you last, sir. I know that the world, like our Conti- 
 nental money, must not be taken for the price that is stamped 
 upon it. And as for the watching with you," said my lady, 
 " that had to be borne with as cheerfully as might be. Since 
 I had sent off for you, I Avas in duty bound to do my share 
 toward your recovery. I was even going to add that this 
 watching was a pleasure, — our curate says the sense of duty 
 performed is sure to be. But you used to cry out the most ter- 
 rifying things to frighten me : the pattering of blood and the 
 bumping of bodies on the decks, and the black rivulets that 
 2i
 
 514 EICHARD CARVEL 
 
 ran and ran and ran and never stopped; and strange, rough 
 commands I could not understand; and the name of your 
 commodore whom you love so much. And often you would 
 repeat over and over : ' / have not yet begun to fight, I have not 
 yet begun to fight! ' " 
 
 " Yes, 'twas that he answered when they asked him if he 
 had struck," I exclaimed. 
 
 "It must have been an awful scene," she said, and her 
 shoulders quivered. "When you were at your worst you 
 would talk of it, and sometimes of what happened to you in 
 London, of that ride in Hyde Park, or — or of Vauxhall," she 
 continued hurriedly. " And when I could bear it no longer, 
 I would take your hand and call you by name, and often quiet 
 you thus." 
 
 "And did I speak of aught else?" I asked eagerly, 
 
 " Oh, yes. When you were calmer, it would be of your 
 childhood, of your grandfather and your birthdays, of Captain 
 Clapsaddle, and of Patty and her father." 
 
 " And never of Dolly, I suppose." 
 
 She turned away her head. 
 
 "And never of Dolly?" 
 
 " I will tell you what you said once, Richard," she answered, 
 her voice dropping very low. " I was sitting by the window 
 there, and the dawn was coming. And suddenly I heard you 
 cry: * Patty, when I return will you be my wife?' I got up 
 and came to your side, and you said it again, twice." 
 
 The room was very still. And the vision of Patty in the 
 parlour of Gordon's Pride, knitting my woollen stocking, rose 
 before me. 
 
 " Yes," I said at length, "I asked her that the day before I 
 left for the war. God bless her! She has the warmest heart 
 in the world, and the most generous nature. Do you know 
 what her answer was, Dorothy?" 
 
 "No." 'Twas only her lips moving that formed the word. 
 She was twisting absently the tassel of the bed curtain. 
 
 "She asked me if I loved her." 
 
 My lady glanced up with a start, then looked me searchingly 
 through and through.
 
 « THE LOVE OF A MAID FOE. A MAl^ ' 515 
 
 "And you?" she said, in the same inaudible way. 
 
 "I could answer nothing. 'Twas because of her father's 
 dying wish I asked her, and she guessed that same. I would 
 not tell her a lie, for only the one woman lives whom I love, 
 and whom I have loved ever since we were children together 
 among the strawberries. Need I say tliat that woman is you, 
 Dorothy? I loved you before we sailed to Carvel Hall between 
 my grandfather's knees, and I will love you till death claims 
 me." 
 
 Then it seemed as if my heart had stopped beating. But 
 the snowy apron upon her breast fluttered like a sail stirring 
 in the wind, her head was high, and her eyes were far away. 
 Even my voice sounded in the distance as I continued: — 
 
 "Will you be the mistress of Carvel Hall, Dorothy? Hal- 
 lowed is the day that I can ask it." 
 
 What of this earth may excel in sweetness the surrender of 
 that proud and noble nature ! And her words, my dears, shall 
 be sacred to you, too, who are descended from her. She bent 
 forward a little, those deep blue eyes gazing full into my own 
 witli a fondness to make me tremble. 
 
 "Dear Richard," she said, "I believe I have loved you 
 always. If I have been wilful and wicked, I have suffered 
 more than you know — even as I have made you suffer." 
 
 "And now our suffering is over, Dorothy." 
 
 " Oh, don't say that, my dear! " she cried, "but let us rather 
 make a prayer to God." 
 
 DoAvn she got on her knees close beside me, and I took both 
 of her hands between my own. But presently I sought for a 
 riband that was around my neck, and drew out a locket. 
 Within it were pressed those lilies of the valley I had picked 
 for her long years gone by on my birthday. And she smiled, 
 though the tears shone like dewdrops on her lashes. 
 
 " When Jack brought you to us for dead, we did not take it 
 off, dear, " she said gently. " I wept with sorrow and joy at 
 sight of it, for I remembered you as you were when you picked 
 those flowers, and how lightly I had thought of leaving you 
 as I wound them into my hair. And then, when I had gone 
 aboard the Annapolis, I knew all at once that I would hate
 
 516 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 given anything to stay, and I thought my heart would brealj 
 when we left the Severn cliffs behind. But that, sir, has been 
 a secret until this day," she added, smiling archly through 
 her tears. 
 
 She took out one of the withered flowers, and then as caress- 
 ingly put it back beside the others, and closed the locket. 
 
 " I forbade Dr. Barry to take it off, Richard, when you lay 
 so white and still. I knew then that you had been true to me, 
 despite what I had heard. And if you were to die — " her 
 voice broke a little as she passed her hand over my brow, " if 
 you were to die, my single comfort would have been that you 
 wore it then." 
 
 "And you heard rumours of me, Dorothy?" 
 
 "George Worthington and others told me how ably you 
 managed Mr. Swain's affairs, and that you had become of some 
 weight with the thinking men of the province. Richard, 1 
 was proud to think that you had the courage to laugh at 
 disaster and to become a factor. I believe," she said shyly, 
 " 'twas that put the cooking into my head, and gave me 
 courage. And when I heard that Patty was to marry you. 
 Heaven is my witness that I tried to be reconciled and think 
 it for the best. Through my own fault I had lost you, and I 
 knew well she would make you a better wife than I." 
 
 "And you would not even let Jack speak for me! " 
 
 "Dear Jack!" she cried; "were it not for Jack we should 
 not be here, Richard." 
 
 " Indeed, Dolly, two people could scarce fall deeper in debt 
 to another than are you and I to my Lord Viscount," I an- 
 swered, with feeling. "His honesty and loyalty to us both 
 saved you for me at the very outset." 
 
 "Yes," she replied thoughtfully, "I believed you dead. 
 And I should have married him, I think. For Dr. Courtenay 
 had sent me that piece from the Gazette telling of the duel 
 between you over Patty Swain — " 
 
 " Dr. Courtenay sent you that ! " I interrupted 
 
 "I was a wild young creature then, my dear, with little 
 beside vanity under my cap. And the notion that you could 
 admire and love any girl but me was beyond endurance. Then
 
 "THE LOVE OF A MAID FOR A MAN" 517 
 
 his Lordship arrived in England, brimming with praise of you, 
 to assure me that the affair was not about Patty at all. This 
 was far from making me satisfied that you were not in love 
 with her, and I may say now that I was miserable. Then, as 
 we were setting out for Castle Howard, came the news of your 
 death on the road to Upper Marlboro'. I could not go a step. 
 Poor Jack, he was very honest when he proposed," she added, 
 with a sigh. 
 
 "He loved you, Dorothy." 
 
 She did not hear me, so deep was she in thought. 
 
 " 'Twas he who gave me news of you, when I was starving 
 at Gordon's." 
 
 "And I — I starved, too, Richard," she answered softly. 
 " Dearest, I did very wrong. There are some matters that 
 must be spoken of between us, whatever the pain they give. 
 And my heart aches now when I think of that dark day in 
 Arlington Street when I gave you the locket, and you went out 
 of my life. I knew that I had done wrong then, Richard, as 
 soon as ever the door closed behind you. I should have gone 
 with you, for better for worse, for richer for poorer. I should 
 have run after you in the rain and thrown myself at your feet. 
 And that would have been best for my father and for me." 
 
 She covered her face with her hands, and her words were 
 stifled by a sob. 
 
 " Dorothy, Dorothy ! " I cried, drawing her to me. " Another 
 time. Not now, when we are so happy." 
 
 "Now, and never again, dear," she said. "Yes, I saw and 
 heard all that passed in the drawing-room. And I did not 
 blame, but praised you for it. I have never spoken a word 
 beyond necessity to my father since. God forgive me!" she 
 cried, "but I have despised him from that hovir. When I 
 knew that he had plotted to sell me to that detestable brute, 
 working upon me to save his honour, of which he has not the 
 smallest spark; that he had recognized and denied you, friend- 
 less before our house, and sent you into the darkness at Vaux- 
 hall to be murdered, then he was no father of mine. I would 
 that you might know what my mother has suffered from such 
 a man, Richard."
 
 518 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 " My dear, I have often pitied her from my soul, " I said. 
 
 " And now I shall tell you something of the story of the Duke 
 of Chartersea, " she went on, and I felt her tremble as she spoke 
 that name. " I think of all we have Lord Comyn to thank for, 
 next to saving your life twice, was his telling you of the dan- 
 ger I ran. And, Richard, after refusing you that day on the 
 balcony over the Park, I had no hope left. You may thank 
 your own nobility and courage that you remained in London 
 after that. Richard," she said, "do you recall my asking you 
 in the coach, on the way from Castle Yard, for the exact day 
 you met my father in Arlington Street ? " 
 
 "Yes," I replied, in some excitement, "yes." For I was at 
 last to come at the bottom of this affair. 
 
 " The duke had made a formal offer for me when first we 
 came to Loudon. I think my father wrote of that to Dr. 
 Courtenay." (I smiled at the recollection, now.) "Then his 
 Grace persisted in following me everywhere, and vowed pub- 
 licly that he would marry me. I ordered him from our house, 
 since my father would not. At last one afternoon he came 
 back to dine with us, insolent to excess. I left the table. He 
 sat with my father two hours or more, drinking and singing, 
 and giving orders to the servants. I shut my door, that I 
 might not hear. After a while my mother came up to me, 
 crying, saying that Mr. Manners would be branded with dis- 
 honour and I did not consent to marry his Grace, — a most 
 terrible dishonour, of which she could not speak. That the 
 duke had given my father a month to win my consent. And 
 that month was up, Richard, the very afternoon you appeared 
 with Mr. Dix in Arlington Street." 
 
 "And you agreed to marry him, Dolly?" I asked breath- 
 lessly. 
 
 "By the grace of Heaven, I did not," she answered quickly. 
 " The utmost that I would consent to was a two months' respite, 
 promising to give my hand to no one in that interval. And 
 so I was forced to refuse you, Richard. You must have seen 
 even then that I loved you, dear, though I was so cruel when 
 you spoke of saving me from his Grace. I could not bear to 
 think that you knew of any stain upon our family. I think
 
 "THE LOVE OF A MAID FOR A MAN" 519 
 
 — I think I would rather have died, or have married him. 
 That day I tlirew Chartersea's presents out of the window, but 
 my father made the servants gather them all which escaped 
 breaking, and put them in the drawing-room. Then I fell ill." 
 
 She was silent, I clinging to her, and shuddering to think 
 how near I had been to losing her. 
 
 "It was Jack who came to cheer me," I said presently. 
 "His faith in you was never shaken, sweetheart. But I went 
 to Newmarket and Ampthill, and behaved like the iugrate I 
 was. I richly deserved the scolding he had for me when I 
 got back to town, which sent me running to Arlington Street. 
 There I met Dr. James coming out, who asked me if I was Mr. 
 Carvel, and told me that you had called my name." 
 
 "And, you goose, you never suspected," says she, smiling. 
 
 " How was I to suspect that you loved a provincial booby 
 like me, when you had the choice of so many accomplished 
 gentlemen with titles and estates?" 
 
 " How were you to perceive, indeed, that you had qualities 
 which they lacked?" 
 
 "And you were forever vowing that you would marry a 
 nobleman, my lady. For you said to me once that I should 
 call you so, and ride in the coach with the coroneted panels 
 when I came home on a visit." 
 
 "And I said, too," retorted Dolly, with mischief in her 
 eyes, "do you remember what I told you the New Year's eve 
 when Ave sat out by the sundial at Carvel Hall, when I was so 
 proud of having fixed Dr. Courtenay's attentions? I said that 
 I should never marry you, sir, who was so rough and master- 
 ful, and thrashed every lad that did not agree with you." 
 
 " Alas, so you did, and a deal more ! " I exclaimed. 
 
 With that she broke away from me and, getting to her feet, 
 made me a low curtsey with the grace that was hers alone. 
 
 "You are my Lord and my King, sir," she said, "and my 
 rough Patriot squire, all in one." 
 
 "Are you happy, Dolly?" I asked, tremulous from my own 
 
 joy- 
 
 "I have never been happy in all my life before, Eichard 
 dear," she said.
 
 520 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 In truth, she was a being transformed, and more wondrous 
 fair than ever. And even then I pictured her in the brave 
 gowns and jewels I would buy her when times were mended, 
 when our dear country would be free. All at once, ere I could 
 draw a breath, she had stooped and kissed me ever so lightly 
 on the forehead. 
 
 The door opened upon Aunt Lucy. She had but to look at 
 us, and her black face beamed at our blushes. My lady threw 
 her arms about her neck, and hid her face in the ample bosom. 
 
 "Now praise de good Lawd!" cried Mammy; "I knowed 
 it dis longest time. What's I done tole you. Miss Dolly? 
 What's I done tole you, honey?" 
 
 But my lady flew from the room. Presently I heard the 
 spinet playing softly, and the words of that air came out of 
 my heart from long ago. 
 
 " Love me little, love me long, 
 Is the burthen of my song. 
 Love that is too hot and strong 
 
 Burneth soon to waste. 
 Still, I would not have thee cold, 
 Nor too backward, nor too bold. 
 Love that lasteth till 'tis old 
 
 Fadeth not in haste."
 
 CHAPTER LVI 
 
 HOW GOOD CAME OUT OF EYIL 
 
 *TwAs about candlelight when I awoke, and Dorothy was 
 sitting alone beside me. Her fingers were resting upon my 
 arm, and she greeted me with a smile all tenderness. 
 
 " And does my Lord feel better after — after his excitement 
 to-day?" she asked, 
 
 "Dorothy, you have made me a whole man again, I could 
 walk to Windsor and back." 
 
 " You must have your dinner, or your supper first, sir, " she 
 answered gayly, " and do you rest quiet until I come back to 
 feed you. Oh, Richard dear," she cried, "how delightful that 
 you should be the helpless one, and dependent on me ! " 
 
 As I lay listening for the rustle of her gown, the minutes 
 dragged eternally. Every word and gesture of the morning 
 passed before my mind, and the touch of her lips still burned 
 on my forehead. At last, when I was getting fairly restless, 
 the distant tones of a voice, deep and reverberating, smote 
 upon my ear, jarring painfully some long-forgotten chord. 
 That voice belonged to but one man alive, and yet I could not 
 name him. Even as I strained, the tones drew nearer, and 
 they were mixed with sweeter ones I knew well, and Dorothy's 
 mother's voice. Whilst I was still searching, the door opened, 
 the voices fell calm, and Dorothy came in bearing a candle in 
 each hand. As she set them down on the table, I saw an agi- 
 tation in her face, which she strove to hide as she addressed 
 me. 
 
 "Will you see a visitor, Richard?" 
 
 "A visitor! " I repeated, with misgiving. 'Twas not so she 
 had announced Comyn, 
 
 621
 
 622 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 "Will you see Mr. Allen?" 
 
 "Mr. Allen, who was the rector of St. Anne's? Mr. Allen 
 in London, and here f " 
 
 . " Yes. " Her breath seemed to catch at the word. " He says 
 he must see you, dear, and will not be denied. How he dis- 
 covered you were with us I know not." 
 
 "See him!" I cried. "And I had but the half of my 
 strength I would fling him downstairs, and into the kennel. 
 Will you tell him so for me, Dorothy?" 
 
 And I raised up in bed, shaken with anger against the man. 
 In a trice she was holding me, fearfully. 
 
 " Richard, Richard, you will open your wound. I pray you 
 be quiet." 
 
 " And Mr. Allen has the impudence to ask to see me ! " 
 
 "Listen, Richard. Your anger makes you forget many 
 things. Remember that he is a dangerous man, and now that 
 he knows you are in London he holds your liberty, perhaps 
 your life, in his hands." 
 
 It was true. And not mine alone, but the lives and liberty 
 of others. 
 
 "Do you know what he wishes, Dorothy?" 
 
 "No, he will not tell us. But he is greatly excited, and 
 says he must see you at once, for your own good. For your 
 own good, Richard ! " 
 
 " I do not trust the villain, but he may come in, " I said, at 
 length. 
 
 She gave me the one lingering, anxious look, and opened 
 the door. 
 
 Never had I beheld such a change in mortal man as there was 
 in Mr, Allen, my old tutor, and rector of St. Anne's. And 
 'twas a baffling, intangible change. 'Twas as if the mask had 
 been torn from his face, for he was now just a plain adventurer 
 that need not have imposed upon a soul. The coarse wine and 
 coarse food of the lower coffee-houses of London had replaced 
 the rich and abundant fare of Maryland. The next day was 
 become one of the terrors of his life. His clothes were of poor 
 stuff, but aimed at the fashion. And yet — and yet, as I 
 looked upon him, a something was in his face to puzzle me
 
 HOW GOOD CAME OUT OF EVIL 523 
 
 entirely. I had seen many stamps of men, but this thing I 
 could not recognize. 
 
 He stepped forward with all of his old confidence, and did 
 not regard a farthing my cold stare. 
 
 "'Tis like gone days to see you again, Eichard," he cried. 
 "And I perceive you have as ever fallen into the best of 
 hands." 
 
 " I am Mr. Carvel to my enemies, if they must speak to me 
 at all," I said. 
 
 " But, my dear fellow, I am not your enemy, or I should not 
 be here this day. And presently I shall prove that same." 
 He took snuff. " But first I must congratulate you on coming 
 alive out of that great battle off Flamborough. You look as 
 though you had been very near to death, my lad. A deal nearer 
 than I should care to get." 
 
 What to say to the man! What to do save to knock him 
 down, and I could not do that. 
 
 " There can be no passing the time of day between you and 
 me, Mr. Allen," I answered hotly. " You, whose machinations 
 have come as near to ruining me as a man's can." 
 
 "And that was your own fault, my dear sir," said he, as he 
 brushed himself. " You never showed me a whit of considera- 
 tion, which is very dear to men in my position." 
 
 My head swam. Then I saw Dolly by the door regarding 
 me curiously, with something of a smile upon her lips, but 
 anxiety still in her eyes. With a "by your leave, ma'am," to 
 her, Mr. Allen took the chair abreast me. 
 
 " You have but to call me when you wish, Eichard," said she. 
 
 " Nay, Dorothy, Mr. Allen can have nothing to say to me 
 that you may not hear," I said instantly. "And you will do 
 me a favour to remain." 
 
 • She sat down Avithout a word, where I could look at her. 
 Mr. Allen raised his eyebrows at the revelation in our talk, 
 but by the grace of God he kept his mouth shut. 
 
 "And now, Mr. Allen," I said, "to what do I owe the pain 
 of this visit? " 
 
 " The pain ! " he exclaimed, and threw back his head and 
 gave way to a fit of laughter. " By the mass ! your politeness
 
 624 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 drowns me. But I like you, Richard, as I have said more 
 than once. I believe your brutal straight-dealing has more to 
 do with my predilection than aught else. For I have seen a 
 deal of rogues in my day." 
 
 "And they have seen a deal of you, Mr. Allen." 
 
 "So they have," he cried, and laughed the more. "Egad, 
 Miss Dorothy, you have saved all of him, I think." Then 
 he swung round upon me, very careless. "Has your Uncle 
 Grafton called to express his sympathies, Richard? " he asked. 
 
 That name brought a cry out of my head, Dolly seizing 
 the arm of her chair. 
 
 "Grafton Carvel in London?" I exclaimed. 
 
 "Ay, in very pretty lodgings in Jermyn Street, for he has 
 put by enough, I'll warrant you, despite the loss of his lands. 
 Your aunt is with him, and his dutiful son, Philip, now broken 
 of his rank in the English army. They arrived, before yester- 
 day, from New York." 
 
 "And to what is this an introduction?" I demanded. 
 
 "I merely thought it strange," said Mr. Allen, imperturb- 
 ably, " that he had not called to inquire after his nephew's 
 health." 
 
 Dolly was staring at him, with eyes wide open. 
 
 "And pray, how did he discover I was in London, sir?" 1 
 said. " I was about to ask how you knew of it, but that is 
 one and the same thing." 
 
 He shot at me a look not to be solved. 
 
 " It is not well to bite the hand that lifts you out of the 
 fire, Richard," said he. 
 
 " You had not gained admission to this house were I not on 
 my back, Mr. Allen." 
 
 "And that same circumstance is a blessing for you," he 
 cried. 
 
 'Twas then I saw Dorothy making me mute signals of 
 appeal. 
 
 "I cannot think why you are here, Mr, Allen," I said. 
 "When you consider all the harm you have done me, and all 
 the double-dealing I may lay at your door, can you blame me 
 for my feelings?"
 
 HOW GOOD CAME OUT OF EVIL 525 
 
 "No," he answered, with more soberness than he had yet 
 used ; " I honour you for them. And perchance I am here to 
 atone for some of that harm. For I like you, my lad, and 
 that's God's truth." 
 
 " All this is neither here nor there, Mr. Allen," I exclaimed, 
 wholly out of patience. " If you have come with a message, 
 let me have it. If not, I beg you get out of my sight, for I 
 have neither the will nor the desire for palavering." 
 
 "Oh, Richard, do keep your temper!" implored Dorothy. 
 " Can you not see that Mr. Allen desires to do us — to do you 
 — a service?" 
 
 "Of that I am not so sure," I replied. 
 
 "It is his way, Miss Manners," said the rector, "and I hold 
 it not against him. To speak truth, I looked for a worse 
 reception, and came steeled to withstand it. And had my skin 
 been thin, I had left ere now." He took more snuff. " It was 
 Mr. Dix, " he said to me slowly, " who informed Mr. Carvel 
 of your presence in London. " 
 
 "And how the devil did Mr. Dix know?" 
 
 He did not reply, but glanced apprehensively at Dorothy. 
 And I have wondered since at his consideration. 
 
 "Miss Manners may not wish to hear," he said uneasily. 
 
 "Miss Manners hears all that concerns me," I answered. 
 
 He shrugged his shoulders in comprehension. 
 
 " It was Mr. Manners, then, who went oo Mr. Dix, and told 
 him under the pledge of secrecy." 
 
 Not a sound came from Dorothy, ' or did I dare to look at 
 her face. The whole matter was cle.tr to me now. After his 
 conversation with me, Mr. Marn^aduke had lost no time in 
 seeing Mr. Dix, in order to ra' ^e money on my prospects. 
 And the man of business had gone straight to Grafton with 
 the intelligence. The suspicion flashed through me that Mr. 
 Allen had been sent to spy, but his very next words disarmed it. 
 
 "And now, Richard," he continued, "before I say what I 
 have come to say, and since you cannot now prosecute me, I 
 mean to confess to you something which you probably know 
 almost to a certainty. I was in the plot to carry you off and 
 deprive you of your fortune. I have been paid for it, though
 
 526 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 not very handsomely. Fears for my own safety alone kept me 
 from telling you and Mr. Swain. And I swear to you that I 
 was sorry for the venture almost before I had embarked, and 
 ere I had received a shilling. The scheme was laid out before 
 I took you for a pupil; indeed, that was part of it, as you no 
 doubt have guessed. As God hears me, I learned to love you, 
 Richard, in those days at the rectory. You were all of a man, 
 and such an one as I might have hoped to be had I been born 
 like you. You said what you chose, and spoke from your 
 own convictions, and catered to no one. You did not whine 
 when the luck went against you, but lost like a gentleman, 
 and thought no more of it. You had no fear of the devil him- 
 self. Why should you? While your cousin Philip, with his 
 parrot talk and sneaking ways, turned my stomach. I was 
 sick of him, and sick of Grafton, I tell you. But dread of 
 your uncle drove me on, and I had debts to frighten me." 
 
 He paused. 'Twas with a strange medley of emotions I 
 looked at him. And Dorothy, too, was leaning forward, her 
 lips parted and her eyes riveted upon his face. 
 
 "Oh, I am speaking the truth," he said bitterly. "And I 
 assume no virtue for the little justice it remains in my power 
 to do. It is the lot of my life that I must be false to some 
 one always, and even now I am false to your uncle. Yes, I 
 am come to do justice, and 'tis a strange errand for me. I 
 know that estates have been restored to you by the Maryland 
 Legislature, Richard, aud I believe in my heart that you will 
 win this war." Here \e fetched a memorandum from his 
 pocket. "But to make yon secure," said he, "in the year 
 1710, and on the 9th of Mirch, old style, your great-grand- 
 father, Mr. George Carvel, d. ew up a document entailing the 
 lands of Carvel. Hall. By this they legally pass to you." 
 
 "The family settlement Mr. Swain suspected! " I exclaimed. 
 
 "Just so," he answered. 
 
 "And what am I to pay for this information?" I asked. 
 
 Hardly were the words spoken, when Dorothy ran to my 
 bedside, and seizing my hand, faced him. 
 
 "He — he is not well, Mr. Allen," she cried. 
 
 The rector had risen, and stood gazing down at us with the
 
 HOW GOOD CAME OUT OF EVIL 527 
 
 whole of his life written on his face. That look was fearful 
 to see, and all of hell was expressed therein. For what is 
 hell if it is not hope dead and buried, and galling regret for 
 what might have been? With mine own great happiness so 
 contrasted against his torture, my heart melted. 
 
 "I am not well, indeed, Mr. Allen," I said. "God knows 
 how hard it is for me to forgive, but I forgive you this night." 
 
 One brief instant he stared at me, and then tumbled sud- 
 denly down into his chair, his head falling forward on his 
 arms. And the long sobs by which his frame was shaken awed 
 our very souls. Dorothy drew back against me, clasping my 
 shoulder, the tears wet upon her cheeks. What we looked on. 
 there in the candlelight, was the Revelation itself. 
 
 How long it endured none of us might say. And when at 
 last he raised his face, it was haggard and worn in truth, but 
 the evil of it seemed to have fled. Again and again he strove 
 to speak. The words Avould not obey. And when he had 
 mastered himself, his voice was shattered and gone. 
 
 " Richard, I have sinned heavily in my time, and preached 
 God's holy word with a sneer and unbelief in my heart. He 
 knows what I have suffered, and what I shall yet suffer before 
 His judgment comes for us all. But I beg it is no sin to pray 
 to Him for your happiness and Miss Dorothy's." 
 
 He stumbled there, and paused, and then continued with 
 more steadiness : — 
 
 " I came here to-night to betray you, and might have gone 
 hence to your uncle to claim my pieces of silver. I remain to 
 tell you that Grafton has an appointment at nine with his 
 Majesty's chief Secretary of State. I need not mention his 
 motives, nor dwell upon your peril. For the King's senti- 
 ments toward Paul Jones are well known. You must leave 
 London without delay, and so must Mr. Manners and his 
 family." 
 
 Is it the generations which decide? When I remember how 
 Dorothy behaved that night, I think so. Scarce had the rector 
 ceased when she had released me and was standing erect 
 before him. Pity was in her eyes, but in her face that courage 
 which danger itself begets in heroic women.
 
 528 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 "You have acted a noble part this day, Mr. Allen," she 
 said, " to atone for the wrongs you have done Richard. May 
 God forgive you, and make you happier than you have been! " 
 
 He struggled to his feet, listening as to a benediction. 
 Then, with a single glance to give me confidence, she was 
 gone. And for a minute there was silence between us. 
 
 "How may you be directed to?" I asked. 
 
 He leaped as out of a trance. 
 
 "Just 'the world,' Richard," said he. "For I am adrift 
 again, and not very like to find a harbour, now." 
 
 "You were to have been paid for this, Mr. Allen," I replied. 
 "And a man must live." 
 
 " A man must live ! " he cried. " The devil coined that line, 
 and made it some men's history." 
 
 "I have you on my conscience, Mr. Allen," I went on, "for 
 I have been at fault as well as you. I might have treated you 
 better, even as you have said. And I command you to assign 
 a place in London whence you may be reached." 
 
 "A letter to the Mitre coffee-house will be delivered," he 
 said. 
 
 " You shall receive it," I answered. "And now I bid you 
 good-by, and thank you." 
 
 He seized and held my hand. Then walked blindly to the 
 door and turned abruptly. 
 
 " I do not tell you that I shall change my life, Richard, for 
 I have said that too many times before. Indeed, I warn you 
 that any money you may send will be spent in drink, and — 
 and worse. I will be no hypocrite to jovl. But I believe 
 that I am better this hour than I have been since last I knelt 
 at my mother's knee in the little Oxfordshire cottage where 
 I was born." 
 
 When Dorothy returned to me, there was neither haste in 
 her step nor excitement in her voice. Her very coolness in- 
 spired me. 
 
 "Do you feel strong enough for a journey, Richard?" she 
 asked. 
 
 "To the world's end, Dolly, if you will but go with me."
 
 HOW GOOD CAME OUT OF EVIL 629 
 
 She smiled faintly. "I have sent off for my Lord and 
 Mr. Fox, and pray that one of them may be here presently." 
 
 Scarcely greater were the visible signs of apprehension upon 
 Mrs. Manners. Her first care, and Dorothy's, was to catechise 
 me most particularly on my state. And whilst they were so 
 occupied Mr. Marmaduke entered, wholly frenzied from fright, 
 and utterly oblivious to his own blame in the matter. He was 
 sent out again directly. After that, with Aunt Lucy to assist, 
 they hurriedly packed what few things might be taken. The 
 costly relics of Arlington Street were untouched, and the 
 French clock was left on the mantel to tick all the night, and 
 for days to come, in a silent and forsaken room; or perhaps 
 to greet impassively the King's officers when they broke in at 
 the door. But I cauglit my lady in the act of wrapping up 
 the Wedgwood cups and dishes. 
 
 In the midst of these preparations Mr. Fox was heard with- 
 out, and was met at the door by Dorothy. Two sentences 
 sufficed her to tell him what had occurred, and two seconds 
 for this man of action to make liis decision. 
 
 " In an hour you shall have travelling chaises here, Dorothy,"- 
 he said. "You must go to Portsmouth, and take ship for 
 Lisbon. And if Jack does not arrive, I will go with you." 
 
 "No, Charles, you must not!" she cried, her emotion con- 
 quering her for the nonce. "That might be to ruin your 
 career, and perchance to lose your life. And suppose we were 
 to escape, what would they say of you ! " 
 
 " Pish ! " Charles retorted, to hide some feelings of his own ; 
 " once our rebel is out of the country, they may speak their 
 minds. They have never lacked for names to call me, and I 
 have been dubbed a traitor before now, my dear lady." 
 
 He stepped hastily to the bed, and laid his hand on me with 
 affection. 
 
 " Charles," I said, "this is all of a piece with your old reck- 
 lessness. You were ever one to take any risk, but I will not 
 hear of such a venture as this. Do you think I will allow the 
 hope of all England to be staked for a pirate? And would 
 you break our commander of her rank? All that Dorothy 
 need do at Portsmouth is to curtsey to the first skipper 
 
 2 M
 
 530 KICHARD CARYEL 
 
 she meets, and I'll warrant he will carry us all to the antip- 
 odes." 
 
 "Egad, but that is more practical thau it sounds," he re- 
 plied, with a glance of admiration at my lady, as sh^e stood 
 so tall before us. "She has a cool head, Richard Carvel, 
 and a long head, and — and I'm thinking you are to come ou; 
 of this the best of all of us. You cannot get far off your 
 course, my lad, with her at the helm." 
 
 It was there his voice belied the jest in his words, and he 
 left us with precipitation. 
 
 They lifted me out of my sheets (I was appalled to discover 
 my weakness), and bundled me with tender care in a dozen 
 shawls and blankets. My feet were thrust into two pairs of 
 heavy woollen stockings, and Dorothy bound her own silk ker- 
 chief at my throat, whispering anxious questions the while. 
 And when her mother and mammy went from the room, her 
 arms flew around my neck in a passion of solicitude. Then 
 she ran away to dress for the journey, and in a surprising 
 short time was back again, with her muff and her heavy cloak, 
 and bending over me to see if I gave any signs of failure. 
 
 Fifty and live minutes had been registered by the French 
 clock, when the rattle of wheels and the clatter of hoofs sounded 
 below, and Charles Fox panted up the stairs, muffled in a huge 
 wrap-rascal. 'Twas he and Aunt Lucy carried me down to the 
 street, Dorothy walking at my side, and propped me up in the 
 padded corner of one of the tAvo vehicles in waiting. This was 
 an ample travelling-carriage with a lamp hanging from its top, 
 by the light of which ray lady tucked me in from head to foot, 
 and then took her place next me. Aunt Lucy filled most of 
 the seat opposite. The baggage was hoisted up behind, and 
 Charles was about to slam the door, when a hackney-chaise 
 turned the corner at a gallop and pulled up in the narrow street 
 abreast, and the figure of my Lord Comyn suddenly leaped 
 within the compass of the lanthorn's rays. He was dressed 
 as for a ball, with only a thin rain-cloak over his shoulders, 
 for the night was thick with mist. He threw at us a startled 
 look that was a question. 
 
 "Jack, Richard is to be betrayed to-night by his uncle,"
 
 HOW GOOD CAME OUT OF EVIL 531 
 
 said Charles, shortly. " And I am taking them to Portsmouth 
 to get them off for Lisbon." 
 
 "Charles," said his Lordship, sternly, "give me that great- 
 coat." 
 
 It was just the one time that ever I saw uncertainty on 
 Mr. Fox's face. He threw an uneasy glance into the chaise. 
 
 "I have brought money," his Lordship went on rapidly; 
 " 'twas that kept me, for I guessed at something of this kind. 
 Give me the coat, I say." 
 
 Mr. Fox wriggled out of it, and took the oiled cape in return. 
 "Thank you. Jack," he said simply, and stepped into the car- 
 riage. "Who is to mend my waistcoats now?" he cried. 
 " Faith, I shall treasure this against you, Eichard. Good-by, 
 my lad, and obey your rebel general. Alas ! I must even ask 
 your permission to salute her." 
 
 And he kissed the unresisting Dorothy on both her cheeks. 
 "God keep the two of you," he said, "for I love you with all 
 my heart." 
 
 Before we could answer he was gone into the night; and my 
 Lord, standing without, had closed the carriage door. And 
 that was the last I saw of this noble man, the true friend of 
 America, who devoted his glorious talents and his life to fight- 
 ing the corruption that was rotting the greatness of England. 
 He who was followed by the prayers of the English race was 
 ever remembered in our own humble ones.
 
 CHAPTER LVII 
 
 I COME TO MY OWN A6AIK 
 
 'TwAS a rough, wild journey we made to Portsmouth, my 
 dears, and I think it must have killed me had not my lady 
 been at my side. We were no sooner started than she pulled 
 the curtains and opened her portmanteau, which I saw was 
 near filled with things for my aid and comfort. And I was 
 made to take a spoonful of something. Never, I believe, 
 was medicine swallowed with a greater willingness. Talk was 
 impossible, so I lay back in the corner and looked at her; and 
 now and anon she would glance at my face, with a troubled 
 guess in her own as to how I might stand the night. For we 
 were still in London. That I knew by the trot of our horses, 
 and by the granite we traversed from time to time. But at 
 length we rumbled over a bridge, there was a sharp call back 
 from our post-boy to him of the chaise behind, and then began 
 that rocking and pitching and swaying and creaking, which 
 was to last the whole night long, save for the brief stops at 
 the post-houses. 
 
 After an hour of it, I was holding my breath against the 
 lurches, like a sea-sick man against that bottomless fall of the 
 ship's bows on the ocean. I had no pain, — only an over- 
 whelming exhaustion, — but the joy of her touch and her 
 presence kept me from failing. And though Aunt Lucy dozed, 
 not a wink of sleep did my lady get through all of those weary 
 twelve hours. Always alert was she, solicitous beyond belief, 
 scanning ever the dial of her watch to know when to give me 
 brandy and physic; or reaching across to feel my temples for 
 the fever. The womanliness of that last motion was a thing 
 for a man to wonder at. But most marvellous of all was the 
 
 632
 
 I COME TO MY OWN AGAIN 533 
 
 instinct which told her of my chief sickening discomfort, — of 
 the leathery, travelled smell of the carriage. As a relief for 
 this she charged her pocket-napkin with a most delicate per- 
 fume, and held it to my face. 
 
 When we drew up to shift horses, Jack would come to the 
 door to inquire if there was aught she wanted, and to know 
 how I was bearing up. And often Mrs. Manners likewise. 
 At first I was for talking with them, but this Dorothy would 
 not allow. Presently, indeed, it was beyond my power, and 
 I could only smile feebly at my Lord when I heard Dolly asking 
 him that the hostlers might be more quiet. Toward morning 
 a lethargy fell upon me. Once 1 awoke when the lamp had 
 burned low, to perceive the curtains drawn back, a black blotch 
 of trees without, and the moonlight streaming in on my lady's 
 features. With the crack of a whip I was off again. 
 
 When next consciousness came, the tarry, salt smell of a 
 ship was in my nostrils, and I knew that we were embarked. 
 I lay in a clean bunk in a fair-sized and sun- washed cabin, and 
 I heard the scraping of ropes and the tramp of feet on the deck 
 above my head. Framed against the irregular glass of the 
 cabin window, which was greened by the water beyond, Doro- 
 thy and my Lord stood talking in whispers. 
 
 "Jack!" I said. 
 
 At the sound they turned and ran toward me, asking how I 
 felt. 
 
 " I feel that words are very empty, Jack, to express such a 
 gratitude as mine," I answered. "Twice you have saved me 
 from death, you have paid my debts, and have been stanch 
 to us both in our troubles. And — " The effort was beyond 
 me, and I glanced appealingly at Dolly. 
 
 "And it is to you, dear Jack," she finished, "it is to you 
 alone that we owe the great joy of our lives." 
 
 Her eyes were shining through her tears, and her smile was 
 like the sun out of a rain-swept sky. His Lordship took one 
 of her hands in his own, and one of mine. He scanned our 
 faces in a long, lingering look. 
 
 "You will cherish her, Richard," he said brokenly, "for 
 lier like is not to be found in this world. I knew her worth
 
 534 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 when first she came to London, as arrant a baggage as ever led 
 man a dance. I saw then that a great love alone was needed 
 to make her the highest among women, and from the night I 
 fonght with you at the Coifee House I have felt upon whom 
 that love would fall. thou of little faith," he cried, " what 
 little I may have done has been for her. No, Richard, you do 
 not deserve her, but I would rather think of her as your wife 
 than that of any man living." 
 
 ****** 
 
 I shall not dwell upon that painful farewell which wrung 
 our hearts, and made us silent for a long, long while after the 
 ship was tossing in the short seas of the Channel. 
 
 Nor is it my purpose to tell you of that long voyage across 
 the Atlantic. We reached Lisbon in safety, and after a week 
 of lodgings in that city by tlie best of fortune got passage in a 
 swift bark bound for Baltimore. For the Chesapeake com- 
 mer(;e continued throughout the war, and kept alive the credit 
 of the young nation. There were many excitements ere we 
 sigated the sand-spits of Virginia, and off the Azores we were 
 chased for a day and a night by a British sloop of war. 
 Our captain, however, was a cool man and a seaman, and 
 slipped through the cruisers lying in wait off the Capes 
 very triumphantly. 
 
 But the remembrance of those fair days at sea fills my soul 
 with longing. The weather was mild and bright for the 
 season, and morning upon morning two stout topmen would 
 carry me out to a sheltered spot on the deck, always chosen 
 by my lady herself. There I sat by the hour, swathed in many 
 layers of wool, and tended by her hands alone. Every nook 
 and cranny of our lives were revealed to the other. She loved 
 to hear of Patty and my years at Gordon's, and would listen 
 with bated breath to the stories of the Ranger and the Bon 
 homme Richard, and of that strange man whom we both loved, 
 whose genius had made those cruises famous. Sometimes, 
 in low voices, we talked of our future; but often, when the 
 wind blew and the deck rocked and the sun flashed upon, the 
 waters, a silence would fall between us that needed no words 
 to interpret.
 
 I COME TO MY OWN AGAIN 635 
 
 Mrs. Manners yielded to my wish for us all to go to Carvel 
 Hall. It was on a sparkling morning in February that we 
 sighted the familiar toe of Kent Island, and the good-natured 
 skipper put about and made for the mouth of our river. Then, 
 as of old, the white cupola of Carvel House gleamed a signal 
 of greeting, to which our full hearts beat a silent response. 
 Once again the great windmill waved its welcome, and the 
 same memory was upon us both as we gazed. Of a hale old 
 gentleman in the sheets of a sailing pinnace, of a boy and a 
 girl on his knees quivering with excitement of the days to 
 come. Dorothy gently pressed my hand as the bark came 
 into the wind, and the boat was dropped into the green water. 
 Slowly they lowered me into it, for I was still helpless, Doro- 
 thy and her mother and Aunt Lucy were got down, and finally 
 Mr. Marmaduke stepped gingerly from the sea-ladder over the 
 gunwale. The cutter leaped under the strong strokes up the 
 river with the tide. Then, as we rounded the bend, we were 
 suddenly astonished to see people gathered on the landing at 
 the foot of the lawn, where they had run, no doubt, in a flurry 
 at sight of the ship below. In the front of the group stood 
 out a strangely familiar figure. 
 
 "Why," exclaimed Dolly, "it is Ivie Rawlinson!" 
 
 Ivie it was, sure enough. And presently, when we drew a 
 little closer, he gave one big shout and whipped off the hat 
 from his head; and off, too, came the caps from the white 
 heads of Scipio and Chess and Johnson behind him. Our oars 
 were tossed, Ivie caught our bows, and reached his hand to 
 Dorothy. It was fitting that she should be the first to land at 
 Carvel Hall. 
 
 "'Twas yere bonny face I seed first. Miss Dolly," he cried, 
 the tears coursing down the scars of his cheeks. "An' syne I 
 kennt weel the young master was here. Noo God be praised 
 for this blythe day, that Mr. Richard's cam to his ain at last! " 
 
 But Scipio and Chess could only blubber as they helped him 
 to lift me out, Dolly begging them to be careful. As they car- 
 ried me up the familiar path to the pillared porch, the first 
 I asked Ivie was of Patty, and next why he had left Gordon's. 
 She was safe and well, despite the Tories, and herself had sent
 
 536 RICHARD CARVEL 
 
 him to take charge of Carvel Hall as soon as ever Judge 
 Bordley had brought her the news of its restoration to me. He 
 had supplied her with another overseer. Thanks to the good 
 judge and to Colonel Lloyd, who had looked to my interests 
 since. Grafton was fled, Ivie had found the old place in good 
 order, all the negroes quiet, and impatient with joy against 
 my arrival. 
 
 It is time, my children, to bring this story to a close. I 
 would I might write of those delicious spring days I spent with 
 Dorothy at Carvel Hall, waited on by the old servants of my 
 grandfather. At our whim my chair would be moved from one 
 to another of the childhood haunts ; on cool days we sat in the 
 sun by the dial, where the flowers mingled their odours with 
 the salt breezes off the Chesapeake; or anon, when it was 
 warmer, in the summer-house my mother loved, or under the 
 shade of the great trees on the lawn, looking out over the 
 river. And once my lady went off very mysteriously, her eyes 
 brimful of mischief, to come back with the first strawberries 
 of the year staining her apron. 
 
 We were married on the tifteenth of June, already an anni- 
 versary for us both, in the long drawing-room. General Clap- 
 saddle was there from the army to take Dorothy in his arms, 
 even as he had. embraced another bride on the same spot in 
 years gone by. She wore the wedding gown that was her 
 mother's, but when the hour was come to dress her Aunt Lucy 
 and Aunt Hester failed in their task, and it was Patty who 
 performed the most of that office, and hung the necklace of 
 pearls about her neck. 
 
 Dear Patty ! She hath often been with us since. You have 
 heard your mothers and fathers speak of Aunt Patty, my dears, 
 and they will tell you how she spoiled them when they went 
 a-visiting to Gordon's Pride. 
 
 Ere I had regained my health, the war for Independence 
 was won. I pray God that time may soften the bitterness it 
 caused, and heal the breach in that noble race whose motto is 
 Freedom. That the Stars and Stripes and the Union Jack 
 may one day float together to cleanse this world of tyranny I
 
 With the first strawberries of the year
 
 AFTERWORD 
 
 The author makes most humble apologies to any who have, 
 or think they have, an ancestor in this book. He has drawn 
 the foregoing with a very free hand, and in the Maryland 
 scenes has made use of names rather than of actual personages. 
 His purpose, however poorly accomplished, was to give some 
 semblance of reality to this part of the story. Hence he has 
 introduced those names in the setting, choosing them entirely 
 at random from the many prominent families of the colony. 
 
 No one may read the annals of these men, who were at 
 once brave and courtly, and of these women, who were ladies 
 by nature as well as by birth, and not love them. The 
 fascination of that free and hospitable life has been so strong 
 on the writer of this novel that he closes it with a genuine 
 regret and the hope that its perusal may lead others to the 
 pleasure he has derived from the history of Maryland. 
 
 As few liberties as possible have been taken with the lives 
 of Charles James Fox and of John Paul Jones. The latter 
 hero actually made a voyage in the brigantine John about the 
 time he picked up Richard Carvel from the Black Moll, after 
 the episode with Mungo Maxwell at Tobago. The Scotch 
 scene, of course, is purely imaginary. Accuracy has been 
 aimed at in the account of the fight between the Bon homme 
 Richard and the Serapis, while a little different arrangement 
 
 637
 
 538 AFTERWORD 
 
 might have been better for the medium of the narrative. To 
 be sure, it was Mr. Mease, the purser, instead of Eichard 
 Carvel, who so bravely fought the quarter-deck guns ; and in 
 reality Midshipman Mayrant, Commodore Jones's aide, was 
 wounded by a pike in the thigh after the surrender, " No 
 injustice is done to the second and third lieutenants, who were 
 absent from the ship during the action. 
 
 The author must acknowledge that the only good anecdote 
 in the book and the only verse worth printing are stolen. The 
 story on page 340 concerning Mr. Garrick and the Archbishop 
 of York may be found in Fitzgerald's life of the actor, much 
 better told. The verse on page 99 is by an unknown author 
 in the Annapolis Gazette, and is republished in Mr, Elihu 
 Kiley's excellent " History of Annapolis."
 
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