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 AN UNKNOWN PATRIOT: A Story of the Secret 
 Service in the Revolution. Illustrated. Crown 
 8vo, $1.50. 
 
 FRIEND OR FOE: A Tale of Connecticut dur- 
 ing the War of 1812. Illustrated. Crown 8vo, 
 
 HOUGHTO^, MIFFLIN & CO. 
 Boston and New York. 
 

 
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 THEY HAVE LEFT YOU DESOLATE (page 311) 
 
FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 A TALE OF CONNECTICUT DURING 
 THE WAR OF 1812 
 
 BY 
 
 FRANK SAMUEL CHILD 
 
 
 g^N.i;;^-ir-^!ffrr7i 
 
 BOSTON AND NEW YORK 
 
 HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY 
 
 ($be fitoewibe pre£?, £ambrib0e 
 
 1900 
 
O hys 
 
 COPV^JGHT/?9a5^ i\.*FkjV5^.$AkucL. CHILD 
 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED 
 
To 
 THE MEMORY OF 
 
 DEPUTY-GOVERNOR ROGER LUDLOW, DEPUTY- 
 GOVERNOR NATHAN GOLD, CHIEF JUSTICE 
 PETER BURR, GENERAL GOLD SELLECK 
 SILLIMAN, JUDGE JONATHAN 
 STURGES, JUDGE ROGER 
 M. SHERMAN, 
 
 ILLUSTRIOUS CITIZENS 
 
 OF 
 
 AN OLD NEW ENGLAND TOWN 
 
 M110077 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 CHAP. PAGE 
 
 I. John Henry and his Fifty Thousand 
 
 Dollars 1 
 
 II. Colonel Burr returns to America . 10 
 
 III. A Guest of Mrs. "Dolly" Madison . 20 
 
 IV. In which the Inkstand gives Way to 
 
 a Musket 29 
 
 V. Captain Jackson returns from the 
 
 War 35 
 
 VI. The Lights burn Blue .... 48 
 
 VII. "If Every Man had his Deserts" . 57 
 
 VIII. A Kettle of Tar — A Feather-bed . 65 
 
 IX. In which Four Lines make Trouble . 82 
 
 X. Pistols and Ten Full Paces . . 95 
 
 XL Davie sings for the Captain . . 108 
 
 XII. " Here 's Foul Crime, — Robbery and . 
 
 Murder" 119 
 
 XIII. "That Flag shall never come down 
 
 WHILE I AM ALIVE" . . . . 132 
 
 XIV. A Forced Visit to the Bamillies . 147 
 XV. Launching into the Deep . . . 159 
 
 XVI. "Tea doth our Fancy aid" . . 169 
 
 XVII. A New England Raising . . . 185 
 
 XVIII. In which their Fortunes are told . 202 
 
 XIX. The War-hawks seize a Victim . . 216 
 
 XX. In which a Maid rescues a Man . 225 
 
 XXI. A Rude Exchange of Courtesies . 236 
 
VI CONTENTS 
 
 XXII. The Peace Convention and the Strife 
 
 of Souls 253 
 
 XXIII. The Puritans at their First Ball . 264 
 
 XXIV. "Here's to New England" . . 280 
 XXV. The Cruise of the Rose . .290 
 
 XXVI. Colonel Burr sees a Vision . . 300 
 XXVII. Under the Frowning Breastworks of 
 
 Fort Union 310 
 
 XXVIII. In which they pass from Plantation 
 
 to Castle 321 
 
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 They have left you Desolate (page 311) Frontis- 
 piece 
 
 The Home of his Ancestors 18 
 
 Mull Plain Elm 66 
 
 Benson Tavern 166 
 
 The Commonest Vehicle 192 
 
 They halted at the Farmhouse .... 234 
 
 Judge Roger M. Sherman 260 
 
 The Waiting did not Weary .... 310 
 
FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 CHAPTEE I \' :,, <V VKV- 
 
 JOHN HENRY AND HIS FIFTY THOUSAND 
 DOLLARS 
 
 The black heavens closed down upon the 
 city of Washington one evening in early Feb- 
 ruary, 1812, when John Henry picked his 
 way through straggling streets in search of 
 the White House. 
 
 Pelting rain, shrill, merciless winds, a 
 dreary, hostile night, accorded with the sinis- 
 ter purpose in his heart, — nature's wild mood 
 reflecting the spirit which prevailed in the 
 Capitol of our nation. 
 
 Freighted with news which he wished to 
 sell for gold, Crillon having kindly paved the 
 way for him, agreeing to share the profits, — 
 news, by the way, which the adventurer had 
 put upon the market in England, but without 
 a purchaser or so much as a bid, — Henry 
 
2 FRIEND OB FOE 
 
 saw the President, and made an appointment 
 for a later interview. 
 
 His air of importance and mystery, with 
 a highly colored story of British intrigue, 
 won the confidence of Madison : a bargain 
 resulted ; the goods were delivered. Drawing 
 •' fifty thoiisah^. dollars from contingent funds, 
 j; t .'tjlfe President paid Henry for his precious 
 revelations. 
 
 The adventurer had stipulated that publicity 
 should be withheld until he was safe on the 
 high seas. This unaccredited peddler of 
 stolen goods sailed from New York in a few 
 days, himself the dupe of Crillon, the spurious 
 French count, so that on Monday, March 9, 
 President Madison sent Henry's papers to 
 Congress, accompanied by a message charging 
 the British government with " employing a 
 secret agent in fomenting disaffection to the 
 constituted authority of the nation, and in 
 intrigues with the disaffected for the purpose 
 of bringing about resistance to the laws, and 
 eventually, in concert with a British force, of 
 destroying the Union and forming the eastern 
 part thereof into a political connection with 
 Great Britain." 
 
 These remarkable statements fanned the 
 passions of the war party, and for their day 
 
JOHN HENRY 6 
 
 became the staple of gossip and denuncia- 
 tion. 
 
 Was Old England sending conspirators 
 among the people of New England? Had 
 the secret machinations of unnamed men 
 reached such a pass that the thrifty, energetic 
 East stood ready to withdraw from the Union, 
 influenced simply by commercial and merce- 
 nary motives ? 
 
 Intrigue, revolution, treachery, were terms 
 recklessly bandied about in streets, marts of 
 trade, and public offices. 
 
 « Who is John Henry?" 
 
 The question was asked by a young man 
 standing amid a group of loungers in the City 
 Hotel, New York, one evening in April. 
 
 " I can tell you," replied Gordon. " He 's 
 a naturalized American citizen, who acted as 
 secret agent for the Governor of Canada, a 
 few years ago. He stayed in the neighbor- 
 hood of Boston trying to gather evidences of 
 New England's disaffection toward the Union, 
 and I know that he failed, for such a spirit 
 does n't exist. He 's sold the United States 
 government a few papers that are worthless, 
 for their contents incriminate nobody, and the 
 revelations which he pretends to have made 
 are figments of the imagination, ridiculous 
 surmises, dastardly innuendoes." 
 
4 FRIEND OB FOE 
 
 " You 're quite sure that what you say is 
 true ? " remarked a second member of the 
 company, eyeing Gordon with distrust. 
 
 " Henry 's a scamp/' was the reply. " But 
 it suits the purpose of the politicians to make 
 capital out of his stories." 
 
 A dozen voices were raised in protest. It 
 was Federalist against Democrat, and the fight 
 waged hot. Gordon, having contributed the 
 information which one of the speakers sought, 
 held his peace, while the more violent talkers 
 plunged into the warfare of words and opinions. 
 
 The fact that John Henry had been a secret 
 agent was undisputed ; but it did not clearly 
 appear that he represented at any time the 
 British government. Nevertheless, the alarm 
 which his papers excited spread through the 
 land, and vague, indefinite fears lurked in 
 many hearts. 
 
 Murray Gordon, the gentleman who gave 
 John Henry his character on this occasion, 
 spoke with knowledge. He did not deem it 
 essential to say that he had met the man many 
 times, and that he was familiar with his career 
 in Ireland, Canada, the United States, and 
 Great Britain. It seemed passing strange to 
 the honorable, high-minded Gordon that 
 Henry palmed himself off as a person of im- 
 
JOHN HEN BY 5 
 
 portance and deceived the most credulous of 
 the American people. 
 
 It was plain that a declaration of war against 
 England impended. While the great peace 
 party might resist for a season the strengthen- 
 ing current of public opinion, events seemed 
 to drive the nation swiftly toward a break 
 with the mother country. 
 
 They were hard days for Gordon. It was 
 painful to suffer the losses of trade and com- 
 merce, — and he was no small loser since the 
 days of the embargo, — but it was infinitely 
 worse to feel the sting of hatred, to note the 
 ripening of cruel animosities, to wait upon the 
 storm of passion gathering in the heavens. 
 
 Gordon had closed up his business; it sim- 
 ply remained for him to guard the scattered 
 shipping of his company. But he was not 
 an idler, content to drift down the stream of 
 time. A university man, widely traveled and 
 loving study, the law school at Litchfield 
 invited him into the hill country of Connecti- 
 cut to read Blackstone. He was now attend- 
 ing to the odds and ends of his affairs, in order 
 that, a few weeks later, he might plunge with 
 fresh ardor into the pursuit of letters. 
 
 There were several reasons for going into 
 New England. He wished to be near the 
 
6 FRIEND OB FOE 
 
 shore towns between New York and Boston. 
 He was familiar with these places, had many 
 acquaintances among their citizens, and sym- 
 pathized with the Federalists. 
 
 His financial concerns drew him to the 
 East, various ships connected with his company 
 lying at the wharves of the Connecticut har- 
 bors. And there were private reasons which 
 shaped his course. A person's chief interests 
 do not necessarily centre in the things seen 
 and read of all men. We often hide our great 
 ambitions, fearing to bring ridicule upon 
 ourselves, or to hamper the efforts which we 
 make. 
 
 Gordon cherished a secret purpose, which 
 had been gaining strength with the years. A 
 worker of tremendous force, set in his opinions, 
 sagacious, and unyielding, he braved every 
 failure or disappointment, and quietly, un- 
 waveringly, held to the pursuit of his great, 
 controlling idea. 
 
 " And so you know John Henry, do you? " 
 
 The speaker leered viciously in addressing 
 Gordon. 
 
 " I know him," was the calm reply. 
 
 " Ever done you any harm ? " 
 
 " That is my business." 
 
 " Listen, boys ; as like as not we 've come 
 
JOHN HENRY 7 
 
 across one of the conspirators which the Presi- 
 dent tells about in his message." 
 
 There was a sudden movement toward the 
 part of the room where Gordon stood looking 
 into the night, so that he soon found himself 
 the centre of a boisterous and unruly crowd. 
 The men had been drinking heavily, and many 
 of them were keen scented for mischief. His 
 brief, sharp description of Henry did not 
 please the company. Some of them pushed 
 offensively against him. 
 
 Gordon was not the man to brook insult, 
 although he might show a fair degree of con- 
 sideration for roisterers in an unsteady condi- 
 tion. 
 
 " You are too familiar, sir," — shoving a 
 drunken fellow back into the ranks of his 
 cronies. 
 
 The motion was a signal for such an out- 
 break as might have been witnessed in many 
 sections of the country at the time. Cries of 
 Federalist, traitor, miscreant, coward, rebel, 
 sounded above the din of groans and execra- 
 tions. 
 
 " Perchance he 's a member of the Eastern 
 Junto. Let 's examine him." The hubbub 
 and excitement were passing into frenzy. 
 Thrice had Gordon by main force pushed 
 back the wild, reckless throng. 
 
8 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 " I say, down with Great Britain ! War to 
 the knife ! " shouted a tall, wiry youth, with 
 ringing tones, as he quickly edged his way to 
 the side of Gordon ; " but I 'm for fair play. 
 Twenty to one is clear beyond reason. Stand 
 back, you fellows. Hurrah for Madison ! To 
 the lake burning with fire and brimstone with 
 your Eastern Juntos and your emissaries of 
 treason ! " Turning to Gordon, he said in an 
 undertone : " By Jove, you 're a plucky fel- 
 low ; Federalist or Democrat, give me your 
 hand, — my name 's Jackson, and I 'm from 
 the Southwest. I 've been in many a fracas, 
 and fair play is the word for me." 
 
 Jackson was evidently familiar with more 
 or less of the crowd, for they fell back at his 
 order, and a row was averted. 
 
 Through the whole scene, Gordon had re- 
 tained his self-possession, the one calm, un- 
 ruffled person in the room. 
 
 " Heavens, man, you have iron in your 
 blood," continued Jackson. The place had 
 assumed its wonted aspect of hilarity and 
 fellowship. 
 
 " My name is Gordon," — slowly uttered by 
 the stalwart, dignified stranger, — "I thank 
 you for your good intentions." 
 
 " Good intentions! " Jackson laughed as he 
 
JOHN HENRY 9 
 
 repeated the words ; " why, stranger, there 'd 
 have been an old-fashioned fist fight here in 
 five seconds, if I had n't interfered, " — hesi- 
 tating a moment and glancing into the face of 
 the gentleman, — "and I guess you'd have 
 licked the whole crowd. But I did n't like 
 to see a handsome man like yourself disfig- 
 ured, even if the fight went your own way." 
 
 The two young men bowed their respects 
 to each other, and drew their chairs into a 
 distant corner of the room in order to cultivate 
 an acquaintance. 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 COLONEL BURR RETURNS TO AMERICA 
 
 The sloop hoisted sail the last of May. 
 There was a handful of passengers, several 
 being friends of the captain, his neighbors in 
 Fairfield. 
 
 " It 's a family party," remarked Mr. David 
 Hardy, as they gathered on deck. 
 
 Boston was disappearing in the distance, 
 and the open sea faced them. 
 
 "David," — the captain smiled as he turned 
 toward his comrade, — " you 're a great trav- 
 eler. Do you know how many voyages we 've 
 taken together ? " 
 
 " I venture to say twenty-five." 
 
 " Double it, my hearty." 
 
 " No ? " 
 
 " This is the fiftieth time that we 've 
 ploughed the seas in one another's company." 
 
 Mr. Hardy gazed into the dim beyond while 
 the captain attended to affairs of present im- 
 portance. 
 
 " David," — the two friends stood watching 
 
COLONEL BURR RETURNS TO AMERICA 11 
 
 the sloop wing its way through the boisterous 
 waters, — " I 've a strange passenger aboard. 
 He 's paid his twenty dollars passage money 
 to New York, but he seems bound to hold 
 aloof or keep himself out of sight. I can't 
 get a word with him. He pulls his hat over 
 his eyes and wraps his cape about him with 
 such an air of mystery that I grow suspicious. 
 It may be some English spy. I wish you 'd 
 take pains to look at the fellow when the 
 chance comes." 
 
 Night shut in the little vessel, and the re- 
 served passenger appeared on deck. In his 
 lonely vigil, the man passed and repassed 
 Mr. David Hardy. At last a sudden purpose 
 stirred the watcher. 
 
 " Colonel, I cannot mistake you." 
 
 The whistling winds did not hide a certain 
 shading of sorrow in the tone. For a moment 
 the men remained in hesitant attitude. 
 
 u Ah, David, I recognized you the instant 
 we sailed. I 'm traveling incognito." 
 
 The two men were old associates, — dis- 
 tantly related. Many were the happy hours 
 they had spent in youthful comradeship. As 
 they now faced each other, memories of early 
 sports, patriotic struggles in the war for Inde- 
 pendence, and later events in which they had 
 
12 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 shared thronged upon them. Peering through 
 the gloom of the night, they shook hands, and 
 then paced up and down the free deck of the 
 vessel. 
 
 " David, you were always a good boy. I 'm 
 glad of it. I suppose you 're reaping your 
 reward. But did you know that I had a far- 
 away ancestor — and a woman at that — who 
 played the very devil with things ? " 
 
 " Why, colonel, you 're forgetting that the 
 .woman's blood flows in my veins, too, and in 
 addition to that particular taint," — Mr. Hardy 
 laughed in a skeptical way, — "I have a strain 
 of witch blood from poor old Anne Hardy." 
 
 " David," — the colonel spoke with much of 
 former pride and spirit, — " I 'm returning to 
 New York, where I propose to practice law." 
 
 They continued their march up and down 
 the vessel's deck. 
 
 "And how was it that you picked this 
 sloop?" 
 
 " Simply one of the chances of life. What 
 a story of adventure I might pour into your 
 ears ! I barely slipped out of England, such 
 were the obstacles put in my way. Before 
 we reached Boston, I had raised thirty-two 
 dollars by the sale of books. I disguised 
 myself with a wig and some queer-looking 
 
COLONEL BURR RETURNS TO AMERICA 13 
 
 garments, then I went to the custom-house to 
 get a permit to land my effects. The collector 
 was Dearborn, with whom I have dined many 
 a time, — and the family has special animosity 
 toward me. Well, I managed to get through 
 the ordeal without Dearborn's discovering my 
 identity ; then I went into lodgings while I 
 tried to borrow money enough to pay my 
 passage to New York, waiting meanwhile for 
 a reply to letters announcing my arrival in 
 Boston. Among the men to whom I went for 
 help was an old comrade, who had been under 
 my command in the expedition against Quebec 
 in 1775. I saw his name in the directory. 
 Going to his house, I found that he lived in 
 fine style. I plied the knocker, and an infirm 
 gentleman appeared. 
 
 " ' Does Mr. Blank live here ? ' said I. 
 
 "'Yes.' 
 
 "'Is he at home?' 
 
 "'Yes.' 
 
 "'Can I see him?' 
 
 " ' I am the person,' answered the old 
 gentleman. 
 
 " ' I am Aaron Burr,' said I, bowing, and 
 speaking in a low tone. 
 
 '"What, the Aaron Burr who was Vice- 
 President of the United States ? ' 
 
14 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 " < The same.' 
 
 " i You bain't ! ' exclaimed the veteran in his 
 bewilderment. 
 
 " Then I was invited to enter, and I made a 
 friendly call, but it was impossible for me to 
 ask help of that deferential, highly respectable 
 man. Finally, I sold some more books, — my 
 friend having interested the President of Har- 
 vard College, who called and paid me forty 
 dollars for what I left in his hands. With 
 this money I discharged my debts and paid 
 my passage. It was not until we had sailed 
 that I discovered myself to be with Fairfield 
 people on the sloop. Why, David, Captain 
 Dimon and a good portion of crew and pas- 
 sengers are relatives, I suppose. And there 
 is a lady on board who is the very image of 
 Theodosia, — the same large mouth, replete 
 with goodness, sweetness, and firmness ; the 
 same large, aquiline nose, contour of face, 
 and the two dimples; and when disturbed, 
 knits the brow and forehead in the same sin- 
 gular manner ; the form of the eye the same, 
 — very long, the color not quite so dark. 
 There is only wanting the broad forehead of 
 ma fille to be perfect. I look at her with 
 inexpressible interest. Who is she ? " 
 
 " It is the captain's wife. She 's the picture 
 
COLONEL BURR RETURNS TO AMERICA 15 
 
 of my niece Mary, the oldest daughter of Lois, 
 you remember." 
 
 Then followed such confidences as the man 
 of the world and the man of the cloister oc- 
 casionally repose in each other, — confidences 
 which in their telling stretched into the early 
 morning hours. 
 
 It was on the second day out that Gordon, 
 one of Captain Dimon's frequent passengers, 
 accosted the man traveling incognito. 
 
 " It is several years since we passed the 
 time of day with each other, but Colonel Burr 
 is a gentleman not easily forgotten." 
 
 " I was saying to my old friend, David Hardy, 
 last night, that every day I walked the streets 
 of Boston I expected some one to slap me on 
 the shoulder and exclaim, ' Colonel Burr, by 
 heavens ! ' but it was foreordained that the 
 only men to claim acquaintance and give me 
 greetings should be fellow passengers on this 
 petty sloop." 
 
 He spoke with perfect self-possession, his 
 native courtesy and good humor shading the 
 reply. 
 
 " I regret that England did not show you a 
 more friendly spirit," remarked Gordon. " I 
 cherish a certain kindness on your part with 
 tender recollections." 
 
16 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 Burr smiled and thanked the speaker, 
 pleased with any word of cheer. 
 
 " Why do you stay in America, my " — 
 
 " Gordon is the name," interrupted the 
 young man. " I 've reverted to an earlier 
 patronymic." 
 
 " And my ship name, as you will see by 
 reading the passenger list of the Aurora, is 
 Mr. Arnot." 
 
 " An interesting coincidence," said Gordon, 
 laughing heartily. 
 
 " We both travel incognito." 
 
 The sloop arrived at Fairfield about eleven 
 o'clock on the night of June 3, where she 
 lingered two days, but Mr. Hardy's efforts to 
 bring Colonel Burr on shore proved unavailing. 
 Gordon, glad of the privilege, disembarked, 
 and spent a few delightful hours in the home 
 of Mr. David Hardy. 
 
 It was late in the afternoon that little Davie 
 Kandolph — brother of the sisters who were 
 entertaining uncle David's guest — hastened 
 into the house to tell them of a very strange 
 man who was seen on the street : — 
 
 " He passed here three or four times, and 
 looked about him and then hurried away." 
 
 More than one child noticed the solitary 
 traveler roaming through the shaded walks, 
 
COLONEL BURR RETURNS TO AMERICA 17 
 
 leaning against venerable elms, or climbing to 
 the little hills and gazing down upon the 
 beautiful landscape. More than one man or 
 woman observed the stranger tarry in the 
 shadows of the boxwood hedge fronting the 
 Thaddeus Burr mansion. Flitting expressions 
 of regret and amusement, joy and sorrow, hope, 
 despair, wounded pride, glowing ambition, 
 the sentimentalism of young manhood, the 
 hardened resistance of bitter defeat in age, 
 were limned upon the smooth, mobile counte- 
 nance of the man. 
 
 The fair June day found no counterpart in 
 the soul of Aaron Burr. A man of extraor- 
 dinary powers, gifted above the most of his 
 contemporaries, winning the confidence of his 
 associates, commanding a generous, personal 
 loyalty, attaining a leadership which evoked 
 deep and genuine enthusiasm, — suddenly 
 thwarted in his masterful plans, cast down to 
 earth from his lofty pedestal, driven from his 
 native land by the rising tumult of hatred and 
 anathema, — an exile across the sea, avoided, 
 embittered, lonely, impoverished, — passing 
 from one retreat to another in his morbid rest- 
 lessness, — at last forced by uncontrollable 
 impulse to adventure once again into the 
 loved, familiar places, and breast the shame, 
 
18 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 the hatred of his foes and the suspicions or 
 indifference of old friends, — such was Aaron 
 Burr on that June day of 1812, as he lingered 
 with pathetic, turbulent memories amid the 
 bright, yet painful associations of Fairfield, 
 the home of his ancestors, — the place made 
 sweet by many happy days. 
 
 David Hardy saw him passing the homestead, 
 but he did not have the heart to interrupt the 
 man in his sad walk. Who was able to foretell 
 the future of this brilliant, self-willed spirit ? 
 
 With bent head and wrinkled brow, Burr 
 passed from the sight of his early comrade, 
 casting one long, distressed look behind him, 
 hastening back to the sloop like one vainly 
 striving to rid himself of harassing memories. 
 
 " Colonel Burr was very kind to me in 
 years gone by, and once I did him a small 
 service," — Mr. Gordon was saying farewell to 
 Mistress Mary and Mistress Martha Randolph, 
 as they stood near the primrose bushes while 
 the twilight spread across the heavens. " But 
 his greatest kindness is this last, for it was he 
 who suggested to Mr. Hardy that I go ashore 
 and become your guest. He has put me 
 under eternal obligations." 
 
 The face of the elder sister glowed with a 
 radiance caught from the sunset sky. 
 
THE HOME OF HIS ANCESTORS 
 
c ?• * « « 
 
 
COLONEL BURR RETURNS TO AMERICA 19 
 
 " Uncle David is a hospitable soul when 
 not absorbed in knotty problems/' was the 
 inconsequent reply. 
 
 " They tell me you are the image of the far- 
 famed Theodosia," — addressing Miss Mary; 
 " never more shall I discredit the reputed 
 charm and beauty of the colonel's daughter." 
 
 " A fair wind and a bright day for your 
 sail down the sound/' said Miss Martha, 
 wishing her good-speed to the parting guest 
 and shielding her sister from further compli- 
 ments. 
 
 Three weeks later, the New York " Colum- 
 bian " contained the following item : " Colo- 
 nel Burr, says a Boston paper of Wednesday, 
 once so celebrated for his talents and latterly 
 so much talked of for his sufferings, arrived 
 at Newburyport from France and England, 
 and passed through this town on his way to 
 New York." 
 
 " Have you seen Burr ? " inquired Gordon 
 one day, as he and Jackson were dining at 
 the City Hotel. 
 
 " Yes," was the answer, " and he told me 
 that on the day it was publicly advertised 
 that he had opened a law office, as many as 
 five hundred gentlemen called upon him." 
 
CHAPTEK III 
 
 A GUEST OF MRS. " DOLLY " MADISON 
 
 Marshall Peyton, having taken posses- 
 sion of his large estates in Virginia, passed the 
 business over to factors and prepared for a 
 long absence from home. On his journey 
 North, he tarried a week with friends in Wash- 
 ington, parrying their questions, and driven to 
 such evasion that he longed for his day of 
 escape. 
 
 The young man was a favorite guest at 
 Monticello and the White House, one of the 
 happy gallants which Mrs. Madison chose to 
 honor with her friendship. 
 
 " Why don't you go into the army, if you 
 long to get away from the old plantation?'* 
 "What set your mind on studying law at 
 the school in Litchfield, when you can go into 
 any office in your native State ? " " How can 
 you be content to stay in the cold climate of 
 the North among the inhospitable, Puritanic 
 New Englanders ? " These and scores of like 
 questions were asked Peyton by his Southern 
 
A GUEST OF MBS. DOLLY MADISON 21 
 
 neighbors when he told them about his 
 plans. 
 
 But the President and Mrs. Madison, the 
 Secretary of State, and a few political friends 
 praised Peyton for his independence and 
 courage. There were dinners and suppers 
 for the entertainment of the youth, — little 
 excursions down the river and through the 
 woods, a merry dance in the great bare east 
 room of the White House, where the mistress 
 often saw the linen drying, — and a great party 
 to which the Federalists (who, with the ex- 
 ception of Livingston had refused to enter 
 Mr. Madison's door since the publication of 
 the Henry Letters) came in vast numbers and 
 met the young friend of the family. War 
 had been declared, and feeling against Old 
 England and New England ran high in the 
 circles of the administration. Peyton was 
 making up his mind in respect to matters, — 
 giving his opinions a chance to crystallize. 
 
 "Don't forsake your kith and kin," said 
 his hostess on the morning that he mounted 
 the stage for New York. 
 
 Mrs. Madison wore a dress of some dark 
 gray stuff, — she still affected the Quaker 
 colors in quiet hours, — with a spotless white 
 apron, and pinned across her breast was a 
 delicate, snowy kerchief. 
 
22 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 "And write us all the news," she con- 
 tinued, as Peyton kissed her cheek and said 
 his affectionate good-by. 
 
 It was a sweet picture, which he long carried 
 in memory, — the lovely, dignified woman 
 waving her adieus and watching the coach 
 fade out of sight. It reminded him of boy- 
 hood days, when an over-fond and tenderly 
 indulgent mother sent him away to school 
 with her prayers. People had told him many 
 times that Mrs. Dolly Madison was like her, 
 so he felt wondrously drawn to this great 
 lady. 
 
 " You will give us full particulars," ob- 
 served a gentleman seated by Peyton's side. 
 " Mark every change and condition ; visit 
 Boston and other centres when practica- 
 ble." 
 
 " Don't put too heavy a burden upon me," 
 replied the young man quietly. " I shall get 
 my fill of Federalism in Litchfield, so that 
 it will be unnecessary to play the part of a 
 circuit rider through New England." 
 
 Peyton's companion rode with him a short 
 distance out of the city, then climbing down 
 from his perch upon the coach, and mounting 
 a horse which a slave had brought into the 
 country for him, returned to Washington. 
 
A GUEST OF MBS. DOLLY MADISON 23 
 
 When Peyton arrived at New York, he 
 chose the City Hotel for his few days' stay. 
 
 " Did you gentlemen speak of Litchfield ? " 
 
 He addressed Jackson and Gordon, as they 
 stood on the street one morning talking over 
 their plans. 
 
 " Yes," answered Jackson, with interest. 
 " Are you also bound for the hill country of 
 Connecticut ? " 
 
 " I 'm expecting to enter the law school," 
 — Peyton was longing for company. " Have 
 I the honor to meet brethren in pursuit of 
 legal knowledge ? " 
 
 " My name is Jackson, — I 'm from the 
 Southwest. This is my friend Gordon. He 
 hails from the country at large, — Philadel- 
 phia, New York, Boston, New London, — 
 where you please. It 's a bad time for trade 
 on the high seas, therefore he betakes himself 
 to law." 
 
 The gentlemen bowed and shook hands 
 with cordiality. 
 
 " We are talking about the ride back into 
 the country. Gordon here will take a horse 
 with him. I must content myself with the 
 stage. How is it with you ? " 
 
 "I wish that it had occurred to me to 
 bring a horse North. My name is Peyton, 
 
24 FBIEND OB FOE 
 
 and Virginia is my home. It would have 
 been a delightful trip. Yes, I'm a coach 
 passenger. When do you start ? " 
 
 The following day the three young men 
 were en route for the hill-top seat of learning, 
 going by way of Danbury and New Milford. 
 What rare opportunities for making ac- 
 quaintance the stage-coach afforded ! People 
 were packed into narrow spaces, regardless of 
 comfort or good clothes. It was impossible 
 to sit grumpy and silent all day long, for one 
 must now and again do something for his own 
 relief or the good cheer of his neighbor, else 
 the journey would have been unendurable. 
 
 And there were frequent adjustments and 
 readjustments, — a few getting out, a few 
 getting in, — somebody passing around the 
 cookies and doughnuts, — a baby crying, or a 
 child falling asleep and tumbling into the lap 
 of a fellow-passenger, or an awful lurch of 
 the vehicle which mixed up the inside passen- 
 gers to such an extent that it required a good 
 fifteen minutes to get everybody properly 
 placed again, with hat or bonnet on head, 
 wraps becomingly arranged, bundles and 
 packages restored to rightful owners, and the 
 spirits of the travelers quieted to the ordi- 
 nary sociability of the occasion. 
 
A GUEST OF MBS. DOLLY MADISON 25 
 
 It was a moment after they had passed 
 one of the many toll-gates on the way that 
 a tremendous commotion was excited on a 
 sudden within the narrow quarters of the 
 coach. The recent shaking up had finally 
 put all the travelers in excellent humor, and 
 they were enjoying the fine scenery in a 
 quiet, deprecating way peculiar to the na- 
 tives of the State, — it being considered waste 
 time to gaze on sunsets, autumn foliage, or 
 lovely vales and rugged hills, when there was 
 a chance to work. 
 
 " Lord - a - massy ! " exclaimed a horny- 
 handed, prosperous - looking man of middle 
 age, " I 've lost my wallet." 
 
 It was not five seconds before every man 
 and woman in the coach had plunged a hand 
 into the pocket, or some other accustomed 
 hiding-place of pocket-book, in order to dis- 
 cover whether the loss was simply personal to 
 the one excited man, or a universal dispensa- 
 tion of Providence. 
 
 " I say, driver," shouted the strong-lunged 
 individual, " stop, will you ! I 've lost my 
 wallet, and it 's got more 'n fifty dollars in it." 
 
 Three times did the agitated traveler re- 
 peat his stentorian command, for the rumble 
 and racket of the coach drowned the human 
 
26 FRIEND OB FOE 
 
 voice at the moment, — they had reached a 
 rough and stony piece of road. 
 
 Some one on top of the coach plucked the 
 arm of the driver, and indicated this outbreak 
 of trouble inside. So the master of the rib- 
 bons brought the horses to a halt, and leaned 
 over the edge of the coach to catch the drift 
 of lively talk. 
 
 " I say, driver," repeated the man, " I 've 
 lost my wallet. It 's got more 'n fifty dollars in 
 it. I — I " — The speaker stumbled over his 
 words, and flung himself hither and thither in 
 the coach as he continued the examination of 
 his pockets, and plunged down to the bottom 
 of the vehicle, embarrassing fellow passen- 
 gers by his proximity to their feet and legs, 
 shoving them on one side without any " By 
 your leave, sir," or the slightest consideration 
 of their reluctance to be jostled, elbowed, 
 pinched, or squeezed. 
 
 " Now^ this is extremely unfortunate," ob- 
 served Jackson, in a gentlemanly tone. " Sup- 
 pose we all descend from the coach, and give 
 our friend a chance to shake himself and 
 search for his wallet." 
 
 " Yes, yes, by all means," assented Peyton. 
 
 " But,.I fear," continued the smooth-spoken 
 Southwesterner, " that the gentleman may 
 
A GUEST OF MRS. DOLLY MADISON 27 
 
 have let go his wallet when that awful lurch 
 of the coach threw us all into a heap; in 
 which case, it may be lying by the roadside 
 two or three miles back." 
 
 " Law, me ! " exclaimed a spinster, " I 
 did n't know but it might be my purse which 
 was gone, but 't is n't," an expression of de- 
 vout thankfulness lighting her countenance 
 as she spoke. 
 
 The search for the lost property proved 
 unavailing, and the travelers became impatient 
 to hasten on their journey. 
 
 " Well, sir, we must move forward." The 
 driver addressed the nervous, exasperated 
 loser of the wallet, and all the passengers 
 climbed into the coach or upon it. 
 
 " Let us ride on top." Peyton was sug- 
 gesting a change. 
 
 " Yes," — Jackson spoke, — u if we stay 
 inside, we may lose our wallets. And, by the 
 way, our friend is doubtless embarrassed by 
 his loss," — turning to the unhappy man ; 
 " permit me to loan you whatever you need. 
 I 'm going to Litchfield. The loan will not 
 inconvenience me in the least." 
 
 Jackson pulled from his trousers pocket a 
 roll of bills, and awaited the reply of his 
 fellow traveler. 
 
28 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 u I declare ! " exclaimed the man with 
 amazement, " that looks like the very — 
 Oh, yes, thank you, young man. I come from 
 up Litchfield way myself " — he shook with 
 curious excitement as he spoke ; " I '11 ac- 
 cept the loan of a few dollars until I can get 
 upon my feet again." 
 
 Jackson handed over the currency while 
 the coach lumbered along its way, skirting 
 the eastern shore of the Ousatonic. 
 
CHAPTEK IV 
 
 IN WHICH THE INKSTAND GIVES WAY TO A 
 MUSKET 
 
 The law school was one of the famous 
 institutions in the land, a magnet drawing 
 to the town of Litchfield many intellectual 
 and ambitious youth. 
 
 Gordon, Peyton, and Jackson entered upon 
 their new life with spirit. Distinguished 
 above the majority of their fellows in respect 
 to capacity, well read and conversant with 
 the world, they shone in the class-room, on 
 the floor as debaters, and in private conver- 
 sation. 
 
 Gordon was a slow body, reserved and 
 dignified ; Peyton, nervous and impulsive ; 
 Jackson, insinuating, deferential, easy, subtle. 
 
 As the three handsome fellows passed up 
 and down the broad street, with inkstands in 
 hand and portfolios under the arm, people 
 gazed upon them with peculiar interest, for 
 they were striking in their appearance, repre- 
 senting quite distinct types of manhood. 
 
30 FRIEND OB FOE 
 
 In respect to politics they invariably dis- 
 agreed, one being conservative, the second 
 moderate, and the third radical. 
 
 Gordon was quiet in his dress, eschewing 
 gay colors; Peyton manifested a shocking 
 carelessness as to personal appearance ; while 
 Jackson managed to adorn himself with the 
 colors of the rainbow. The dash and energy 
 of the youth from the Southwest, his fertility 
 of invention and remarkable adaptability, con- 
 trasted strikingly with the calm, self-contained 
 manner of Gordon and the dreamy, poetic air 
 of Peyton, the sentimentalist. 
 
 "I'm going to enlist." Months had 
 passed since their coming to Litchfield. 
 
 " When, Jackson ? " 
 
 Gordon asked the question, as the three 
 friends returned from one of Judge Gould's 
 lectures. 
 
 " I 've set so many times for it, and then 
 been forced to change my plans so often, that 
 I don't venture to name another date." 
 
 " Judge Reeves does n't say much concern- 
 ing his brother-in-law, Burr ? " 
 
 Gordon turned toward Jackson as he put 
 the question. 
 
 " No," was the answer. " Perhaps he 's 
 sensitive." 
 
INKSTAND GIVES WAY TO MUSKET 31 
 
 "How did Colonel Burr appear, the last 
 time you saw him ? " 
 
 " Well, sir, it was pathetic beyond words. 
 If ever a man loved a child, he loved his 
 daughter, Theodosia. And you know that 
 her devotion matched his. It was weeks 
 after the news of the ship's loss came to him 
 that I had my last interview ; but he was con- 
 vinced that Mrs. Alston was drowned, and so 
 had given up all hope. He referred to the 
 event with perfect self-control, speaking quite 
 philosophically ; and yet it was evident that 
 he was a heart-broken, overwhelmed old man. 
 The tears came to my eyes, and I cudgeled 
 my brain to think of something comforting to 
 say, but what availed it? I tried to express 
 my sympathy, and he cut me short in his 
 characteristic way, bidding me eat, drink, and 
 be merry. He's a true Chesterfieldian, if 
 ever there lived one." 
 
 " I wonder if the man feels remorse ? 
 What does he say about Hamilton ? " 
 
 "I can answer that question." Jackson 
 spoke with heat. " He never blamed himself 
 in that affair. I 've heard him tell the story 
 more than once. He feels justified in his 
 course from beginning to end." 
 
 " So he went to Fairfield, did he ? " Gor- 
 
32 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 don did not care to hear the story of the duel, 
 so he put another question. 
 
 " Yes, he visited the captain of the sloop, 
 but I infer that it was a visit crowded with 
 memories not altogether cheerful. Perhaps 
 the same neglect or aversion noticed in New 
 York on the part of old friends was repeated 
 in the town of his ancestors. I know that 
 Mrs. Randolph went to Stonington with her 
 daughters, so that he did not see them, al- 
 though he had been told that Miss Mary was 
 the image of Mrs. Alston, and naturally he 
 longed to look upon her fair face." 
 
 " You have made several visits in that 
 neighborhood during the past few months, 
 Jackson. I hope it 's nothing serious ? " 
 
 Peyton smiled quizzically as he spoke. 
 
 " Well, we agree, I think, that the daughters 
 of Mrs. Randolph are charming young ladies. 
 And where will you meet a more fascinating 
 gentleman than quaint old uncle David ? " 
 
 " A pure soul, our modern Bayard, — the 
 knight without fear and without reproach." 
 Peyton spoke with genuine enthusiasm. " My 
 friends, it 's not often that we meet such a 
 lovable man. 
 
 " I agree with you, Peyton." There was 
 a glow of appreciation in the eyes of Gordon. 
 
INKSTAND GIVES WAY TO MUSKET 33 
 
 " Colonel Tallmadge tells me that Mr. Hardy 
 was always the kind, noble, great-hearted gen- 
 tleman, brave as a lion, totally indifferent to 
 self, tender as a woman, keen in his sense of 
 honor, and appallingly truthful, even in his 
 most delightful and affectionate moods. I 
 don't wonder that men confide their secrets 
 to him, and that he is counted a friend at 
 large, ordained to serve everybody in distress. 
 If he had lived in the old days, what a cham- 
 pion he would have been on every field that 
 involved innocence, helplessness, or human- 
 ity!" 
 
 " Why, Gordon," exclaimed Jackson, " you 
 surprise me with your fervor. I did n't know 
 uncle David had made such a friend. Are 
 you altogether disinterested in this unstinted 
 admiration?" 
 
 There was a slight flush upon Gordon's 
 cheeks as he replied : — 
 
 " Jackson, you can't appreciate the finer 
 qualities of Mr. Hardy. Colonel Burr is a 
 man more to your mind. There is n't ambi- 
 tion and brilliancy enough in the sturdy, 
 modest patriot to suit your fancy." 
 
 The conversation was interrupted by the 
 approach of another student, freighted with 
 the latest news. The war was certainly driv- 
 
34 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 ing many people to desperation. Stagnation 
 of business, depression of the currency, a 
 series of defeats in the west, disagreement 
 with the national government in respect to 
 policy, extreme poverty, and prevailing sense 
 of unrest made it a time favorable for the 
 activity of desperate men. 
 
 "Did you say there were seven robberies?" 
 inquired Gordon, as the fellow student told 
 his story. 
 
 " Yes," was the answer ; " all done with 
 such expertness and dispatch that not a sin- 
 gle trace of the criminal has been found." 
 
 At this point the students entered their 
 lecture-room. 
 
 Later in the day came the news of Perry's 
 victory on Lake Erie. 
 
 "We have met the enemy, and they are 
 ours ; two ships, two brigs, one schooner, and 
 one sloop." 
 
 This first capture of an English squadron 
 — an unparalleled event — freshened the 
 martial impulse of Jackson so that within the 
 week he was pushing toward the frontier in 
 order to join the militia from his State. 
 
CHAPTEE V 
 
 CAPTAIN JACKSON RETURNS FROM THE WAR 
 
 "Mr. Gordon has given Davie a lottery 
 ticket. Isn't he kind?" 
 
 The sisters were busy on the back porch, 
 one making beautiful napery for the table, the 
 other plying her needle with deft swift fingers. 
 
 " I suppose it 's the lottery for the bridge 
 over the Ousatonic. The drawing is at New 
 Haven, in October, is n't it ? " 
 
 " Yes," was Mary's answer. 
 
 "Well, it seems to me it's lotteries and 
 lotteries. Every bridge and meeting-house 
 and public institution that is builded must 
 have a lottery to help pay the cost." 
 
 " But it 's amazingly exciting. In fact, 
 Martha, the summer has not had a dull day. 
 War may be awfully distressing and bring in 
 its wake an enormous amount of suffering, 
 but it has some compensations — the Fourth 
 Regiment in town, for example." 
 
 Mary spoke with levity, while Martha 
 frowned a disapproval. " I suppose you 'd 
 
36 FRIEND OB FOE 
 
 jest over a second burning of Fairfield, if 
 you had the opportunity." 
 
 " Martha, I 'd sooner laugh than cry, any 
 day. And I think it has been the delight- 
 f ulest summer of my life. Think how much 
 company we've had, and what blithe hours 
 down in the pines by the sea or back among 
 the hills a-picnicking, and the numbers of 
 charming books that we have read together, 
 and all the little parties which the friends 
 have made. Why, it has been a season of 
 captivating gayety, although war clouds 
 hover above the horizon and we 've had half 
 a dozen frights over the reported coming of 
 the enemy." 
 
 " They say that folks in New London have 
 kept their silver and china buried so long in 
 their yards and gardens that what is n't tar- 
 nished, defaced, or broken is lost. Such 
 queer things are done in time of war or fire." 
 
 "I say, girls, Gordon is the best man. He 
 gave me a lottery ticket, and it 's sure to win 
 a prize, cuz I 'm always lucky." 
 
 Little Davie suddenly projected himself 
 into the conversation. The rogue appeared 
 at the door with flushed face and eager eyes. 
 
 " Mr. Gordon, you mean." 
 
 " Gordon, for short," saucily piped the 
 child. 
 
CAPTAIN JACKSON RETURNS FROM WAR 37 
 
 " I suppose we may look for Mr. Jackson 
 soon." Mary ignored Davie's interruption. 
 
 " I say, girls, do you know what they call 
 the rats which they catch down at the tide- 
 mill?" 
 
 " No," replied Martha, in a tone which 
 showed that her curiosity was piqued. " What 
 is it, Davie?" 
 
 " Federalists." The boy's expression was 
 one of great contempt. 
 
 " I caught a mole in my trap, and I took it 
 down to the old mill and showed it to the 
 men, and I said, ' What do you suppose I 've 
 got,' and they all shouted, ' Another Federal- 
 ist ! ' and I said, ' No, I 've caught a Damo- 
 crat.' " 
 
 "A what?" asked Mary, shaking with 
 laughter. 
 
 U A Damocrat, I say, — a Damocrat. Are 
 you deaf?" 
 
 " Davie, Davie, I fear me that you are pro- 
 fane. You mean a Democrat, I suppose." 
 Martha corrected the boy. 
 
 " But why did you call the mole a Demo- 
 crat ? " Mary was indifferent to the distinc- 
 tion between " dam " and " dein." It was the 
 working of little David's mind that interested 
 her. 
 
38 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 " That 's plain enough," he answered. 
 " They call us Federalists/' — swelling with 
 importance, — " rats, and we 've eyes and can 
 see things ; but them moles have n't eyes and 
 can't see anything, so I call 'em Damocrats." 
 
 The lucid explanation was received with 
 merry peals of laughter. 
 
 " Well, Davie, you 're cut out for a philo- 
 sopher." Mary was still laughing as she 
 spoke. " But I hope you won't repeat the 
 story to Mr. Jackson — no, Captain Jackson 
 — when he comes. You might hurt his 
 feelings." 
 
 " I don't care if I do," exclaimed the child. 
 " I don't like Jackson ; he 's too sharp." 
 
 u You ought not to talk that way, David." 
 When Martha was especially severe in re- 
 buking her brother, she invariably addressed 
 him by his " grown-up " name. " Mr. Jack- 
 son has very correct manners, and always 
 conducts himself like a gentleman in our 
 presence." 
 
 " He does, eh ? " The child's nose was 
 suddenly elevated so that it expressed the 
 most emphatic dissent. " You ought to see 
 him when he gets mad and swears. I tell 
 you he can- make things hum when he takes 
 that tack." 
 
CAPTAIN JACKSON RETURNS FROM WAR 39 
 
 " Why, Davie ! " Mary's face assumed 
 a horrified aspect. " You are prejudiced 
 against him because he 's a Democrat. You 
 must remember that I 'm a Democrat, too." 
 
 " Gordon 's the fellow for me. He 's a 
 square man, and he loves the woods, and lets 
 me fire his gun and fish with his tackle, and 
 we go swimming together. You just ought 
 to see him tumble out of a boat and scoot 
 along under water like a fish, and then climb 
 up on the top of some wave rods away and 
 puff like a porpoise. But then, you girls 
 can't see us boys in the water, of course, cuz 
 we 're stripped, you know, and I suppose it 
 wouldn't be proper. Next to uncle David, 
 Gordon 's the best man in all the world." 
 
 " Well, Davie, the gentleman has a loyal 
 friend in you. Stand up for your friends, 
 child. Be true to them always. I love you 
 for it." 
 
 " Do you love me any better cuz I like 
 Gordon ? " The boy looked straight into the 
 eyes of Mary Randolph. 
 
 " You ask too many questions." It was 
 Martha who came to the rescue. 
 
 " Oh, I know a thing or two. You girls 
 can't pull the wool over my eyes. I'm 
 neither a mole nor a Damocrat." 
 
40 FEIEND OE FOE 
 
 " Mr. David Hardy Randolph, I 've a mind 
 to box your ears." Mary dropped her task 
 and started for the boy, who was too agile 
 a person to be caught by any older sister. 
 Placing one thumb upon his nose, stretching 
 his fingers in a fan-like shape, and joining a 
 second thumb with four accompanying fingers 
 to the peculiar gymnastic, the child wriggled 
 his digits significantly, and withdrew in great 
 haste. 
 
 " I expect he '11 be the death of us," cried 
 Mary, as she returned to work gasping for 
 breath, laughing in spite of herself. 
 
 " Captain Jackson will have a great fund 
 of war stories to relate on his return. But 
 it's a very humiliating conflict, and I doubt 
 if even he is able to tell anything that will 
 rouse our pride or feed our vanity." Martha 
 was addressing her sister, a few minutes after 
 the disappearance of Davie. 
 
 " Don't croak. We '11 make up on the sea 
 what we forfeit on the land. My blood tin- 
 gles when I read about the Constitution and 
 the splendid fighting of our stanch little 
 navy." 
 
 " But there 's no enthusiasm in the land. 
 The country is divided on the question of 
 war. The President says one thing, and our 
 
CAPTAIN JACKSON BETURNS FROM WAR 41 
 
 Commonwealth says another. There is n't the 
 same spirit that was manifest when uncle 
 David and Colonel Tallmadge and all the 
 brave hearts fought for our independence." 
 
 " Well, now, I think there has been a good 
 deal of enthusiasm. Did n't Boston give 
 Captain Hull a magnificent reception when 
 he returned from the destruction of the 
 Guerriere ? And you heard Mr. Gordon de- 
 scribe Decatur's arrival and entertainment at 
 New London. Why, the town went daft in 
 its rejoicings, the authorities presenting him 
 with public thanks, ending the show with a 
 ball in his honor. And then we 've read all 
 about the banquet in New York, at Gibson's 
 City Hotel, given to Hull, Jones, and Decatur. 
 What is the first verse of the printer-poet's 
 effusion ? 
 
 1 The banner of freedom high floated unf urPd 
 While the silver-tipp'd surges in low homage curl'd, 
 Flashing bright round the bow of Decatur's brave bark, 
 In contest, an eagle — in chasing, a lark.' 
 
 Martha, we've had victory after victory so, 
 brilliant that they have made a profound 
 sensation in England as well as the United 
 States. And grander things will come." 
 
 " When some British fleet anchors off the 
 shore, and this town and other exposed places 
 
42 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 suffer, you '11 see the folly of such a war as 
 this country now wages." 
 
 " Martha, what do you suppose Mr. Gordon 
 finds to busy himself about in New London ? 
 He's been there and to Stonington and 
 Newport half a dozen times these last few 
 months." 
 
 "If he thought it wise for us to know, 
 he 'd probably tell us," was the reply. 
 
 " When Mr. Gordon discloses any secrets, 
 please inform me. He's a good friend, a 
 charming companion, and one of the most 
 intelligent people I've ever known, but he 
 remains as deep a mystery to-day as he was 
 the first day that we saw him. Did you ever 
 hear him say a word concerning his family 
 or his early years ? It 's terribly aggravating 
 to like a man who surrounds himself with 
 such secrecy." 
 
 " Do you prefer to associate with some one 
 who talks incessantly about himself, — Jack- 
 son, for example ? " 
 
 " But Jackson has adventures to relate, 
 and he reels them off with the dash and 
 freshness of an old salt. I know that he 
 generally plays the leading part in his story, 
 and why should n't he? Whose stories 
 ought a man to tell well, if not his own, — 
 
CAPTAIN JACKSON RETURNS FROM WAR 43 
 
 stories that he has lived, — pages out of his 
 own history?" 
 
 The conversation was disturbed by the 
 resounding strokes of the knocker. Mary 
 hastened through the house in response to 
 the summons. There was the accent of cor- 
 dial greetings, followed by the appearance of 
 the three friends from the Litchfield Law 
 School. 
 
 " You are very welcome, gentlemen/' — 
 Martha arose, and extended her hand, — "it 
 is months since we have seen you together.' • 
 Jackson received the first hand-shake, Peyton 
 the second, and Gordon the third. 
 
 " Is n't it delightful ? " Mary was radiant. 
 " But you are lame, Mr. Jackson ? " 
 
 " Only a slight wound in the thigh," the 
 soldier replied to Miss Randolph. u I 'm fast 
 recovering from it." 
 
 " Oh, how romantic. We did n't know that 
 you had been wounded. Is n't there some- 
 thing that we can do for you ? " 
 
 Both the girls showed real concern for their 
 guest. During the months of Jackson's ab- 
 sence there had been nothing but indirect 
 communication between him and his Fairfield 
 friends. An occasional letter to Peyton or 
 Gordon, a brief paragraph in a New York or 
 
44 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 a Boston paper, or " Niles's Register/' such 
 were the infrequent and unsatisfactory means 
 of news in respect to the Western volunteer. 
 It had never been told them that Jackson was 
 wounded, or that he had passed through other 
 than the ordinary experiences of frontier sol- 
 diering. 
 
 " Oh, thank you. I fear that neglect and 
 improper treatment on the field necessarily 
 ends my brief career as a soldier. I hope 
 that I shall not be lame forever. The doctors 
 are very comforting, for they say I may thank 
 my stars I did n't lose a leg." 
 
 The sisters seemed more interested in this 
 explanation than Peyton or Gordon. 
 
 A keen observer might have detected signs 
 of skepticism or annoyance on the part of 
 Jackson's companions. 
 
 The cool, rear porch of the house, cur- 
 tained with a luxuriant Virginia creeper, was 
 an alluring place on this summer day, — to 
 this beautiful retreat Mary had conducted the 
 visitors. 
 
 The young people were exchanging the 
 commonplaces of welcome and eliciting the 
 brief, cordial responses of their friends when 
 there was the sudden racket of a rolling pail 
 on the roof above them, and the leap of this 
 
CAPTAIN JACKSON RETURNS FROM WAR 45 
 
 article to the ground, where it was dashed into 
 pieces, followed immediately by the drip, drip 
 of a copious water-flow from the eaves. 
 
 " Martha, Davie 's up to some of his tricks 
 again. Will you see what he 's doing ? " 
 
 The gentlemen standing under the drip- 
 ping eaves stepped quickly within the porch's 
 shelter, while Martha went in pursuit of the 
 mischief-maker, and Mary diverted the atten- 
 tion of the callers. 
 
 " Did you come on horseback all the way 
 from Litchfield, Captain Jackson ? " She 
 made the word " captain " quite emphatic. 
 
 " Yes," was the reply, " although I have 
 been forbidden horseback riding for six 
 months. You see the doctors think it will 
 aggravate my wound." 
 
 " Don't do it, then." Mary spoke with 
 tenderness and sympathy. 
 
 " Oh, I can't live like a hermit after all the 
 active service I 've seen. And the stage-coach 
 shakes me up worse than a good canter on my 
 horse's back. It 's nearly two weeks since I 
 returned. I thought I 'd come down and 
 talk over the war with you, and Peyton and 
 Gordon said it was a sin for me to travel 
 alone in my feeble condition," — spoken jo- 
 cosely, — " so they insisted on bearing me 
 company." 
 
46 FRIEND OB FOE 
 
 " And you '11 tell us all about your adven- 
 tures? Do begin at once. No, wait until 
 Martha comes back. Ah, here she is. Now 
 we '11 learn something concerning the war at 
 first hand." 
 
 Seated in easy attitudes within a grateful 
 shelter from the sun, the little company lis- 
 tened to the thrilling personal narrative of 
 Captain Jackson, a highly embellished story, 
 composed of hairbreadth escapes and daring 
 achievements. It was told with great skill, 
 a loose rein evidently being given to imagi- 
 nation, that most essential element in the vera- 
 cious historian's narrative. Even Davie, who 
 had crept along under the shelter of the vines, 
 in order that he might view the group and 
 plot fresh mischief, was held spell-bound by 
 the recital. 
 
 But Jackson did not find congenial hearers 
 in Gordon and Peyton. They had changed 
 during his absence, or was the change in him- 
 self? 
 
 The three men still lodged in the same 
 private house, walking to lectures in each 
 other's company, taking their meals at one 
 table, their horses were stabled at a neigh- 
 boring farmer's, — they exchanged books and 
 talked politics, religion, literature, business, 
 law, and kindred themes with endless argu- 
 
CAPTAIN JACKSON BETUBNS FBOM WAB 47 
 
 ment and contradiction. But Jackson did 
 not slip into his former relation of intimacy. 
 Were they jealous of his military honors? 
 Or had they found reason for distrusting 
 him so that they must needs withhold their 
 confidence ? 
 
 " I don't like to talk about a man behind 
 his back," observed Peyton to Gordon one 
 day, " but I can't feel toward Jackson as I 
 did last year. I 've heard say that military 
 life demoralizes a fellow, but it is n't that I 
 can point to this or that difference in him, 
 or give any reason for the thing. I simply 
 don't like him. Do you ? " 
 
 Gordon stroked his chin, shifted his posi- 
 tion, and said nothing in reply. 
 
 " He tells a mighty good story," Peyton 
 continued, " and some of his yarns bear the 
 impress of fact, but taken as a whole, I 
 think they smell fishy." 
 
 No reply was made to this further proposi- 
 tion. 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 
 THE LIGHTS BURN BLUE 
 
 It had been observed by Gordon's friends 
 in Litchfield that the young man held fre- 
 quent correspondence with individuals in 
 several of the shore towns, and on various 
 occasions hurried to New Haven, Stonington, 
 or New London. 
 
 " I don't wish to force your confidence," 
 said Peyton to his comrade one day, " but 
 your absences from lectures and your re- 
 peated excursions into the southern part of 
 the State excite my curiosity." 
 
 " Why," answered Gordon, " did n't I tell 
 you that I had shipping interests ? Come 
 down with me on some of these trips and 
 keep me company." 
 
 So one day in late December, 1813, the 
 two young men started for New London. 
 
 This important maritime capital, head- 
 quarters for a large commercial business, was 
 familiar ground to Gordon. 
 
 For several years Fulton had been experi- 
 
THE LIGHTS BURN BLUE 49 
 
 meriting with his torpedo hoats, and as he 
 had illustrated their workings before a picked 
 company of British naval officers in 1807, 
 the enemy were wary in their approaches to 
 the Connecticut shores. 
 
 " We gave them a lesson they will not 
 soon forget/' remarked Peyton, as the two 
 gentlemen entered New London. He was 
 referring to the adventure with the Eagle. 
 " I 've heard one of the crew tell the story," he 
 continued, without waiting for a reply from 
 Gordon. " It was a private enterprise. John 
 Scudder, Junior, planned the thing. He put 
 ten kegs of gunpowder in the hold of the 
 schooner in a strong cask, mixing it with 
 sulphur, surrounding it with stones and other 
 missiles. Within the cask at its head were 
 fixed two gunlocks, cords being fastened to 
 their triggers at one end and two barrels of 
 flour at the other. Removing the flour bar- 
 rels, of course, would spring the locks ; then 
 the powder would be ignited, and the devil 
 was to pay. Well, Captain Biker took the 
 schooner up to Millstone Point, and when 
 they were chased by boats from the Ramillies, 
 the crew deserted the craft and pulled for the 
 shore. As the Eagle appeared to carry a 
 good cargo of supplies, and the seizing of 
 
50 FBIEND OR FOE 
 
 such American vessels was a common incident 
 of the blockade, she was put under charge of 
 a dozen marines from the warship and started 
 for the Ramillies. The wind died down so 
 that the progress was slow. When boats were 
 sent out as lighters to the schooner, the 
 hatches were opened and men began to trans- 
 fer the cargo ; but the removal of the first 
 barrel brought on the explosion. They say 
 it was an awful sight. The schooner, the 
 dozen men on board, and the provisions were 
 blown to atoms, while the men in the near-by 
 boats were more or less injured, and showers 
 of refuse fell even on the deck of the Ra- 
 millies. The man who described the explosion 
 said that a fire-column nine hundred feet in 
 height spurted into the air." 
 
 " Peyton, I don't believe in that kind of 
 warfare, do you ? " 
 
 " Why not ? Don't you think that instant 
 death and wholesale destruction signify less 
 pain and quicker settlement of difficulties ? " 
 
 " It 's the humanity of the method you 
 like, is it?" Gordon spoke with a show of 
 feeling. 
 
 " Yes, and its effectiveness." 
 
 " Don't you know that the English gov- 
 ernment refused to adopt Fulton's invention? 
 
THE LIGHTS BUEN BLUE 51 
 
 And the United States themselves will have 
 nothing to do with such diabolical machines." 
 
 " Gordon, tell me where your sympathies 
 are, with England or America, in this con- 
 flict." 
 
 This point-blank question remained unan- 
 swered. 
 
 " It is hard on Decatur, is n't it ? " Gordon 
 looked over the bay and up the river as he 
 spoke. " But. if one must be bottled up, this 
 is as pleasant a spot as one could select." 
 
 "I think that Hardy does not find the 
 bottling business altogether to his mind. I 
 wonder how many attempts to blow up his 
 ship have been made since he came into these 
 waters ? " 
 
 There was no answer to the question. 
 
 " I 've heard of a Norwich man who made 
 something after the model of Bushnell's in- 
 vention, and went under the Ramillies three 
 times. It 's too bad that a broken screw pre- 
 vented his fixing his torpedo to the bottom 
 of the English ship. And there was a Long 
 Island fisherman who carried his torpedo in 
 a whaleboat and came near destroying the 
 man-of-war. Why, they say the commodore 
 has become so frightened that he keeps his 
 ship in motion a good deal of the time, and 
 
52 FRIEND OB FOE 
 
 orders her bottom swept every two hours; 
 and you heard that he wrote to Justice Terry 
 of Southold that if the folks allowed any 
 torpedo boats to remain among them, and 
 he found it out, he 'd raze every house near 
 the shore? I suppose a man must have an 
 uncomfortable and anxious feeling when he 
 believes that any moment he may be hoisted 
 out of sight by one of these infernal mechan- 
 isms." 
 
 " The blockade is very rigorous these days, 
 I am told. It's rough on the farmers and 
 sailors. For my part, I wish the struggle 
 was ended." 
 
 " I agree with you," said Peyton. 
 
 The people of New London did not live a 
 peaceful or monotonous life during these many 
 months of blockade. Time and again the 
 town was swept by rumors of assault, bom- 
 bardment, or the attempted breaking away 
 of Decatur's fleet. One day the sloop Rox- 
 ana was chased by three British barges and 
 driven aground. The people on the shore has- 
 tened to her rescue, but the enemy fired the 
 vessel, and although many attempts to extin- 
 guish the flames were made, yet the fierce 
 cannonading of the British drove away the 
 rescuers. 
 
THE LIGHTS BURN BLUE 53 
 
 Another day it was a skirmish between 
 whaleboats from Long Island and the long- 
 boats of the hostile ships; while the night 
 was often made the convenient season for 
 desperate adventures and perilous enterprises. 
 
 It was while the young gentlemen lingered 
 in New London that the story of John Car- 
 penter was told them. 
 
 " It makes my blood run cold/' observed 
 Peyton excitedly. " I 've a mind to enlist 
 even at this late day." 
 
 " Don't believe all you hear/' was the 
 answer. 
 
 " But think of it, man, — the son of a 
 respected citizen of the State impressed into 
 the service of the Ramillies and brought back 
 here to his very neighborhood ? They say it 
 was one of the most affecting scenes a fellow 
 ever witnessed. You see the boy sent word 
 to his family in Norwich, his father came 
 down here, went off to the ship with a flag, 
 and when the two met on the deck, the most 
 hardened heart was moved to tears. The 
 father was wise enough to bring the proper 
 testimonials with him, and it being such a 
 clear case, no one could gainsay the evidence." 
 
 " Well, the boy was returned to his par- 
 ents, was n't he ? " Gordon spoke with 
 
54 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 sharpness. " It was to the credit of Hardy, 
 I take it." 
 
 " To the credit of Hardy ! " — the inflection 
 denoted skepticism, — " it was to the shame 
 of the English people that the boy was ever 
 impressed into service." 
 
 " I grant the justice of your remark, but 
 bear in mind that a great many cruel things 
 are done in peace as well as in war, and done 
 by Americans and Englishmen who know 
 better." 
 
 The night of Sunday the 12th was dark 
 and windy. Peyton remained at the tavern, 
 listening to the yarns of the loungers who 
 ventured forth in search of fellowship. Gor- 
 don had an engagement which detained him 
 abroad, so that it was late when he returned. 
 
 This was the night which Decatur had 
 chosen for attempting to run the blockade. 
 All through the summer and autumn he had 
 been watching for a chance to drop down the 
 river and put to sea. As the cold weather 
 settled over New England, and the British 
 grew less vigilant in their guard, he brought 
 his ships down opposite Market Wharf, and 
 waited for the sheltering darkness. Every- 
 thing seemed to favor the plan on this par- 
 ticular night, — wind, tide, clouds. All was 
 
THE LIGHTS BUBN BLUE 55 
 
 in readiness, waiting upon the word for a 
 start. 
 
 At this critical moment the bow-guard of 
 the Hornet and Macedonian reported that 
 blue lights were burning near the mouth 
 of the river. Great excitement prevailed in 
 Decatur's little fleet, for they were taken as 
 signals warning the enemy of the Americans' 
 approach. The well-laid plans of escape 
 were immediately abandoned, and, deeply 
 chagrined, Decatur gave up the attempt. 
 
 " Have you heard the news ? " asked Pey- 
 ton, as Gordon appeared next morning. 
 
 "No!" was the matter-of-fact reply. 
 
 " Why, Decatur did n't escape last night. 
 They say that lights on the shore warned the 
 British of our intentions, so that they were 
 prepared to cut off escape or give chase." 
 
 " Well, such a thing is possible, for the 
 town folks knew what Decatur proposed to 
 do. I heard it on the streets and in the 
 tavern repeatedly." 
 
 " But who would be such a traitor to his 
 country as to play this contemptible trick ? " 
 
 " You forget that the British fleet may have 
 friends on shore, — people willing to do them 
 any favor. And then it may be that Decatur 
 was deceived. How does he know that the 
 
56 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 lights were intended for the enemy, or that 
 they had any necessary connection with his 
 running the blockade ? " 
 
 " Why, that 's what people are saying and 
 what Decatur himself thinks. And there 's 
 no denying the fact." 
 
 But Gordon continued skeptical. Nothing 
 was proved ; it was all guesswork. Later in 
 the day some one accused the Federalists of it. 
 
 " I 've been told that it was members of 
 the peace party/' remarked Peyton to his 
 friend, " but I don't believe it. Such a 
 charge is a libel upon honorable men." 
 
 So opinions shifted, and the blue lights 
 were enveloped in mystery. 
 
 The young men lingered in New London 
 for a week, swept into the strong currents of 
 prevailing excitement, taking their diffident 
 part in the talk of the day. 
 
 On their ride back into the hills they had 
 the chance to feel the pulse of the people. 
 Two great political parties arraigned each 
 other with bitter invectives, beggaring the 
 mother tongue in their harsh phrase-making, 
 embroiling persons and communities in local 
 quarrels and conflicts, — shadowing all life 
 with trouble and sorrow. 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 "if every man had his deserts" 
 
 The affairs of Captain Jackson did not 
 prosper these days. Returning to the East 
 a wounded soldier crowned with honors, he 
 had anticipated warm greetings and the many 
 sweet praises of admiring friends. But after 
 the first kind welcome had been given and 
 the story of his adventures told, life moved 
 along on the former humdrum level. 
 
 " Heavens ! " said the young man to himself, 
 — his most appreciative listener, — "I believe 
 they snub me, a patriot that has risked life 
 and limb for sake of country. They 're a 
 set of blanked Federalists in this neighbor- 
 hood." 
 
 Captain Jackson was changed. The vir- 
 tues which formerly shone with lustre had 
 been dimmed by the rough usages of war. 
 Naturally imperious, he had become over- 
 bearing and insolent, almost regardless of 
 other people's rights or opinions. 
 
 "If ever a dastardly act stained the re- 
 
58 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 cord of this State/' he exclaimed one crisp 
 winter's morning, as several men joined him 
 in their walk to Judge Gould's lecture, " it 
 is the blue-light trick of the Federalists on 
 the night of December the 12th." 
 
 " You take a good deal for granted, Jack- 
 son." Peyton spoke in a decisive way not 
 habitual to him. 
 
 " It makes no difference whether it was 
 a Federalist or some of their sympathizers. 
 It 's characteristic of this State. New Eng- 
 land is little better than a breeding-place of 
 rebellion." 
 
 " I 'm not a New Englander," — Gordon 
 had a slow, measured style of speaking when 
 aroused, — " but I don't " — 
 
 " Heavens, fellows, Gordon says he 's not a 
 New Englander ! It 's the first time I ever 
 heard him give any information about him- 
 self." 
 
 " He 's mightily unlike you in that re- 
 spect," slyly observed one of the company. 
 
 " I 'm not a New Englander " — Gordon 
 repeated himself — 
 
 "Glad to hear it." This was Jackson's 
 second interruption. 
 
 "But I like and respect New England, and 
 I don't think any son of these sturdy, inde- 
 
IF EVERY MAN HAD HIS DESERTS 59 
 
 pendent States would connive with their ene- 
 mies." 
 
 A shout of approval drowned the captain's 
 reply. 
 
 " And / 'm not a New Englander," — it 
 was Peyton speaking, — " but when you find 
 an honester, manlier class of men, I wish you 
 to mention the fact to me." 
 
 u They 're stubborn, selfish, rebellious citi- 
 zens. If any part of the country ought to 
 be devastated by the British, it 's New Eng- 
 land." 
 
 "Say, Jackson, your wound must have 
 affected your spleen." 
 
 The conversation ended as the young gen- 
 tlemen entered the lecture-room. 
 
 On the afternoon of the same day half a 
 dozen of the students met at Gordon's, among 
 them Peyton and Jackson. Card-playing was 
 one of the favorite diversions of this set, and 
 occasionally small sums of money as stakes 
 helped to foster an interest in the game. 
 
 Jackson was a spendthrift, — lavish in all 
 his expenditures, — sometimes impecunious, 
 at other times flush with money. It had 
 been said that he played in order to settle his 
 bills. Repeatedly the word passed among the 
 students that this fellow and that was fleeced 
 
60 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 out of every penny he carried with him. But 
 Jackson, being shrewd and insinuating, gen- 
 erally came off first best. 
 
 At this period in his career luck seemed to 
 have turned against him. The old facility at 
 cards did not show itself. Perhaps his wound 
 and the strain of warfare had shattered his 
 judgment, or did fate take a strong hand in 
 the contest ? 
 
 During the game that followed, Decatur's 
 failure came up again for discussion. 
 
 " As like as not it was some English emis- 
 sary lurking in the neighborhood. We ought 
 to have banished every man who failed to 
 give a straightforward account of himself." 
 
 " You 're inconsistent or fickle in your 
 opinions, Jackson. This morning you were 
 cursing the Federalists and calling them blue 
 lights, and now you are laying the trick to 
 the charge of the enemy." Peyton had a 
 drawling speech when he hectored his friends. 
 
 " You must have an intelligent opinion on 
 the subject, you and Gordon," — with a sud- 
 den increase of color on the part of the cap- 
 tain, — " tell us what you know about it. 
 Being in New London at the time, you had a 
 capital chance to post yourself." There was 
 distrust — a hint of accusation in the speak- 
 er's manner. 
 
IF EVERY MAN HAD HIS DESERTS 61 
 
 Interest in the game, which had taken an 
 unexpected turn, made a break in the talk. 
 Every eye was centred on the cards. Sud- 
 denly Gordon and Peyton sprang to their 
 feet, tossing away the bits of pasteboard, 
 declaring that they were done for the day. 
 Excitement prevailed, voices rang loud and 
 high, angry looks being exchanged between 
 Jackson and his opponents, while suppressed 
 murmurs and maledictions surcharged the air. 
 
 " You 've loaned Jackson considerable 
 money, have n't you ? " remarked Peyton, as 
 he and Gordon sat before the blazing fire on 
 the hearth an hour later. 
 
 " Yes," was the answer, given with hesita- 
 tion. 
 
 " One way to make a fellow your enemy is* 
 to load him down with favors. That 's the 
 way kindness acts on some natures." 
 
 " You 've done something in that line your- 
 self, have n't you, Peyton ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes ; several times when Jackson was 
 hard pressed I 've helped him bridge the diffi- 
 culty. Before he went to the war he was par- 
 ticular to settle up these little obligations, 
 but fighting on the field of battle seems to 
 have impaired his memory. Does he ever 
 pay you back what he borrows these days ? " 
 
62 FRIEND OB FOE 
 
 " I can't recollect any such time," was the 
 laconic reply. 
 
 " He lies so plausibly, or gets into a tower- 
 ing passion so quickly, that I have quit re- 
 minding him of his debts. I say, Gordon, 
 begging your pardon for the remark, I used 
 to think you were the mysterious person in 
 my circle. For all I know, you may be a 
 prince in disguise. But I vouch for your 
 honor and manliness. Jackson, however, is 
 a deeper mystery than you, and there is 
 something about the spirit and action of 
 the fellow that breeds foul suspicion in my 
 mind. What say you ? " 
 
 "It is n't necessary for me to say any- 
 thing." Gordon spoke reflectively. " You 've 
 said enough." 
 
 " It amazes me that a good man like Colo- 
 nel Tallmadge or Mr. David Hardy will 
 stomach a youth like Jackson." 
 
 " Well, there 's no accounting for tastes. 
 The dash and glamour of soldiering always 
 bewitches folks." 
 
 The young men were in the saddle every 
 fine day, so that a ride to Fairfield came as a 
 diversion, and these rides grew in frequency 
 during the next few months. The sessions 
 of the courts and a friendship for Mr. Eoger 
 
IF EVERY MAN HAD HIS DESERTS 63 
 
 M. Sherman, one of the leading lawyers of 
 the State, gave them an excuse for these 
 delightful excursions. 
 
 It was on one of these trips that they were 
 joined by Jackson himself, and the three 
 men were guests at Knapp's tavern. 
 
 " There is no doubt in my mind " — Jack- 
 son was speaking for the benefit of a dozen 
 loungers in the place — "that the blue lights 
 were made by some skulking Englishman and 
 his Federal friends. There 's a party in New 
 England — small party, I think — that would 
 like to set up an independent confederacy or 
 go back into colonial relations with the old 
 country. Henry did n't manufacture his con- 
 spiracy out of whole cloth. He crept into 
 the secrets of traitors." 
 
 "Stuff and nonsense!" exclaimed Peyton. 
 " No more traitors in New England than any- 
 where else. Don't set yourself up for the 
 only patriot in the East because you 've been 
 to the war." 
 
 " Perhaps Mr. Jackson speaks with know- 
 ledge." There was a covert challenge in the 
 expression of Gordon. "Modesty often re- 
 strains the gentleman of the West from mak- 
 ing direct charges." 
 
 " If every man had his deserts, there would 
 
64 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 be at least one less Englishman in Connecti- 
 cut/' answered Jackson. 
 
 " If every man had his deserts," — there 
 was quiet force in the language of Gordon 
 that had telling effect, — " some men, now 
 running at large, would stand behind prison 
 bars." 
 
 " Don't let war or politics inflame your 
 passions this fine day," interrupted a vener- 
 able citizen, who noted the trend of the dis- 
 cussion. The entrance of David Hardy turned 
 the current of talk into other channels. 
 
CHAPTER VIII 
 
 A KETTLE OF TAR A FEATHER-BED 
 
 It was plain to Gordon that he had lost 
 favor in town, for old acquaintances looked 
 askance at him when he showed himself on 
 the streets, and the tavern cronies with whom 
 he had long jested in his frequent visits 
 skulked away with the air of men who felt it 
 a disgrace to be seen in his company. 
 
 " Peyton/' he remarked, on the morning fol- 
 lowing their appearance in Fairfield, " there 's 
 a chill in the air. Has it struck into your 
 vitals ? " The day was happy with the glow- 
 ing, generous life of early June. 
 
 " Gordon, I fear that it means mischief. 
 Jackson has been talking with unbridled 
 tongue." 
 
 When the young men arrived at the tav- 
 ern on the previous evening, all had been cor- 
 diality ; but within an hour a change in the 
 attitude of one and another man toward Gor- 
 don had been noted. This was the chill to 
 which the speaker adverted. 
 
66 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 But the atmosphere of the Hardy home- 
 stead remained serene and refreshing, so that 
 the law students tarried hour after hour in the 
 grateful shelter. They returned to the tav- 
 ern for dinner and supper, but the large part 
 of the day was devoted to a triangular court- 
 ship of the sisters. 
 
 Gordon and Peyton seemed to be on friendly 
 terms with Jackson, listening with interest to 
 his stories, joining affably in the discussion 
 of public affairs, adding wit and jest to the 
 brightness of the hour, doing all in their 
 power to entertain the young ladies. 
 
 Uncle David stumbled upon the company 
 several times in his search for misplaced 
 books, finding his treasures in some mys- 
 terious nook where he had absent-mindedly 
 dropped them. Bringing them back to his 
 study, with the delight of a child holding a 
 new toy, he would stand in his doorway and 
 talk learnedly to the young people upon the 
 subject that engrossed his attention, while 
 they nodded assent or asked some relevant 
 question, or tried to direct his thoughts into 
 fields of common interest. 
 
 Little Davie spiced the gayety with numer- 
 ous quaint remarks, darting in and out of the 
 parlor like some frisky domestic animal, or 
 
MILL PLAIN ELM 
 
A KETTLE OF TAR — A FEATHER-BED 67 
 
 hiding behind the door or furniture, and sud- 
 denly emerging with a shout and a somer- 
 sault. Several times he sounded a war-whoop 
 as he sped through the house on the wings of 
 the wind, afterwards stealing behind Jack- 
 son's chair to ask him if that was the way the 
 Indian allies did it when they skirmished on 
 the Western frontier. 
 
 Late in the day the company resorted to 
 the shade of the back porch and the Virginia 
 creeper, where the breath of summer lingered 
 with sweet content. The birds haunted the 
 shady yard ; a short row of bee-hives in the 
 distance accounted for the incessant hum of 
 insects; there was a gush and melody of 
 nature pervading the scene, truly enchanting. 
 Clouds blew up from the east with the even- 
 ing wind, and the mutterings of an approach- 
 ing storm mingled with the whisperings of the 
 trees. A keen observer would have noticed 
 signs of restlessness in Jackson. There was 
 a nervous twitching of his limbs, a peculiar 
 alertness of hearing manifest, a frequent 
 change of position, an occasional failure to 
 push himself in conversation. 
 
 When they were driven indoors by the 
 furious tempest, Mary moved about the room 
 like one unnerved by the superabundance of 
 
68 FRIEND OB FOE 
 
 electrical fluid in the air. Several times she 
 stood before the open window and gazed anx- 
 iously into the gloom, retreating with fear 
 as fingers of fire traced strange pencilings 
 against the blackness of night. 
 
 Uncle David stood by the candle on the 
 mantelpiece and read portions of " The 
 Tempest " aloud, to the accompaniment of 
 the rising gale, the resounding surf, and the 
 bellowing thunder. 
 
 " Why, child," said he to Mary, " you shake 
 like one seized with a chill." 
 
 The rain was now pelting the house with 
 vicious force, while the wild shrieks of the 
 storm-fiends sounded human in their fury. 
 
 " It 's the witches come back again," whis- 
 pered little Davie, who had crept from his bed 
 and was haunting Mrs. Randolph as she has- 
 tened through room after room to fasten the 
 doors and the windows which the wind-spirits 
 rattled and banged with all their might. 
 
 There was a slight abatement of the tem- 
 pest after this first pitiless assault. 
 
 " Peyton," said Jackson, with a repressed 
 show of purpose, " you promised to do me a 
 friendly turn to-night. We must return to 
 the tavern." 
 
 "Can't you wait?" 
 
A KETTLE OF TAR — A FEATHER-BED 69 
 
 " We must go now " — spoken with deci- 
 sion. " It will take two good hours to get 
 through the case, and I must hasten to New 
 York in the morning." 
 
 There was a bored look upon the face of 
 Peyton. He did not esteem it a matter of 
 importance, yet for the sake of his promise 
 he must go. 
 
 " Well, the ladies will doubtless be glad to 
 excuse us." 
 
 The students arose, Jackson and Peyton 
 bidding their friends good-evening. 
 
 "You'll come with us?" Peyton turned 
 to Gordon as he spoke. 
 
 " As this is a private affair between you 
 two boys, and as the storm has not passed, 
 I will remain, with the kind permission of 
 our friends." 
 
 "Do!" exclaimed Mr. Hardy, the desire 
 being echoed by Mrs. Kandolph and Miss 
 Martha. 
 
 " But it is such a dark, dreadful night," 
 interposed Mary ; " and you will — you will 
 — find it a lonely walk " — 
 
 " What ! will you thrust me into the 
 storm " — spoken with jocularity — " whether 
 or no?" 
 
 " Oh, sir, you jest," was Mary's reply ; the 
 
70 FBIEND OR FOE 
 
 two young men were leaving the house as 
 she stepped over by Gordon's side ; " but I 
 think it would be quite as well for you to go." 
 
 " Why, Mary Randolph/' exclaimed Martha, 
 " what a rude speech ! You will stay, will 
 you not, Mr. Gordon ? " 
 
 " Sheer obstinacy would force me to stay. 
 I 'm not to be put down by such a remark." 
 
 He looked his smiling defiance, and quietly 
 seated himself by the side of Martha, while 
 the elder sister left the room. 
 
 " I take delight in a storm." 
 
 " Mary 's always afraid when it thunders. 
 She 's the bravest girl I ever knew in the 
 place of trial or danger. I believe she could 
 go upon a field of battle and attend to the 
 wounded and dying, and never flinch ; but if 
 a thunderstorm blew up, as like as not she 'd 
 faint away." 
 
 " I 've heard of girls possessing marvelous 
 courage, who were invariably frightened out 
 of their wits by a mouse." 
 
 " It 's the electricity that affects her, I sup- 
 pose. Now I never like to get a drenching, 
 but a grand, boisterous, old-fashioned tempest 
 is my delight." 
 
 The winds multiplied their fury, and again 
 the rain beat sharply, spitefully, against the 
 house. 
 
A KETTLE OF TAR — A FEATHER-BED 71 
 
 A half hour later four men clad in sailor 
 toggery, with abundance of waterproof cov- 
 ering, lurked under the trees in the Hardy 
 dooryard. What could drive any human be- 
 ing into such a storm except it was stern 
 necessity ? 
 
 A long, rough hour passed, the liers-in- 
 wait hardly shifting their position. It was 
 plain that such close watch boded ill, for 
 surely well-intentioned men would never 
 haunt the home of an honorable and beloved 
 citizen like David Hardy. 
 
 At last the storm settled down into a steady, 
 fertile rain, and the hour was late for simple 
 country people. 
 
 " Good-night," said Gordon cheerily. He 
 was hand-shaking with Mr. Hardy, the sisters 
 standing near the door, through which he 
 was to pass into the little entry. 
 
 Another moment and a man emerged from 
 the front door, walking briskly down the 
 narrow path, brushing against the wet shrub- 
 bery, stepping into the deep pools of water, 
 indifferent to rain, mud, darkness. 
 
 At the same time a second person emerged 
 from the house, passing through the rear 
 porch, across the back yard, over to the small 
 meadow, into Mr. Sherman's garden. This 
 
72 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 individual was unmolested, and having skirted 
 the place, made his way to the front door of 
 the lawyer's house, where he fastened a note 
 to the knocker and then hastened to the 
 tavern. 
 
 But the other individual, whose exit from 
 the Hardy door has been noted, did not fare 
 so well. He had gained the street and turned 
 to the east, when the four skulkers made a 
 dash for him. A keen observer might have 
 suspected that the solitary walker was not 
 altogether unprepared for the sudden onset, 
 although he yielded to his captors after a 
 brief struggle. It was so quickly and quietly 
 done, — this seizing of their victim, — and the 
 steady patter of the rain, with the distant 
 murmuring of thunder and the soughing of 
 the pines, made such a distraction, that it 
 would have been well-nigh impossible for 
 people to hear if the prisoner had tried to 
 arouse the neighbors. But the man was 
 hustled away through the darkness so that he 
 soon passed beyond the limits of houses and 
 was lost in the dreariness of open land. 
 
 " Strike a blue light, my hearty," said a 
 gruff voice, evidently addressing the captive. 
 
 This was the first word spoken by the sailor 
 quartette, and it was followed by mumbled 
 curses. 
 
A KETTLE OF TAR — A FEATHER-BED 73 
 
 " Have you gagged the devil yet," whis- 
 pered one of the brawny crew. 
 
 " We must wait until we get further from 
 the village/' was the reply. 
 
 They traveled along in silence. 
 
 " We '11 give you a dose that will make you 
 think of your mother." One of his captors 
 spoke to the prisoner as he stumbled and half 
 fell ever a fresh stump in the field. 
 
 " Boys/' — it was the leader, — " all you 
 have to do is to think of the thousands of 
 poor American lads and men that have been 
 snatched from home and country by English 
 oppressors and impressed into the service of 
 our hated foe, — then give this fellow hell." 
 
 The sentiment brought down a storm of 
 blasphemy upon the head of the silent man. 
 
 " It 's a little early in the season for a man 
 to put on winter clothes, but you '11 pardon 
 us, I 'm sure." The tone of satire was dis- 
 tinct above the noise of the storm. 
 
 " 'T is n't too early for feathering out," 
 remarked another jester. 
 
 " I '11 tell you there 's nothing like tar and 
 feathers for a renegade Britisher." 
 
 " I believe he 's a blanked spy." The 
 leader hit the fellow a telling blow in the 
 face, evidently unable longer to hold in check 
 the stormy passions rising within him. 
 
74 FRIEND OB FOE 
 
 The blow was a signal for action. They 
 had pushed their man through the fields until 
 they came near a hut in which was a roaring 
 fire, by the light of which a kettle of tar 
 and a feather-bed appeared. The tar and 
 the feathers were to be transferred to Gor- 
 don. He was the fellow against whom their 
 maledictions were hurled. He was said to be 
 one of the scoundrels who had set off blue 
 lights in the borders of New London and 
 warned the British blockaders of Decatur's 
 coming. He was the victim to be sacrificed 
 to the vengeful, bitter feelings of a party 
 who hated England with an intensity unmiti- 
 gated by a single throb of compassion or bro- 
 therhood. 
 
 To the surprise of the leader, the man 
 whom they had hurriedly bound and proposed 
 to gag — the man who had submitted to 
 their rough usage with a brief show of 
 resistance — now made a counter-charge 
 against them, broke asunder the cords which 
 held him, struck right and left with a force 
 and a facility almost superhuman, and then 
 sprang into the darkness. 
 
 All was confusion and excitement. Instant 
 pursuit was given. They were near him — 
 they touched him in their flight ; he darted 
 
A KETTLE OF TAB — A FEATHEB-BED 75 
 
 to one side and tripped them. Again they 
 lost their man, and then they heard a mock- 
 ing voice chasing them through the gloom. 
 
 " Who 's that ? " shouted the leader. 
 
 There came a familiar laugh stealing amid 
 the rain. 
 
 " I swear," exclaimed the leader, "it sounds 
 like old Sambo ! " 
 
 The victim had disappeared, and all search 
 was unavailing. 
 
 "Heavens, boys!" — it was the strong man 
 of the party talking as they entered the hut, 
 where the kettle of tar was, to their amaze- 
 ment, turned bottom side up, and the feather- 
 bed inside out, so that the place was thick 
 with the downy objects drifting hither and 
 thither on the cross-currents of the wind, — 
 " Heavens, boys, he was a very giant in 
 strength, and — why, the devil — I believe 
 he's set the tar and the feathers topsy 
 turvy." 
 
 It was June's sweetest morning after the 
 storm had swept westward in its way. Jack- 
 son arose with the birds, leaving his fellow 
 students undisturbed, making an early start 
 for New York. 
 
 Gordon and Peyton had not come down- 
 stairs before little Davie was racing through 
 
76 FRIEND OB FOE 
 
 the tavern, knocking and shouting for them 
 to get up and hear the birds sing. 
 
 " Why, my youngster/' — Gordon opened 
 his door and admitted the child to his cham- 
 ber, — " you 're as lively as a cricket this 
 morning. What 's up ? " 
 
 " I 'm up," was the quick reply. " I guess 
 I know a thing or two — Mary 'n' I." 
 
 " No doubt about it." The genial light of 
 Gordon's handsome eyes diffused a very opu- 
 lence of friendliness. " What is it that you 
 know this morning ? I can see that you 're 
 weighted down with news." 
 
 The child laughed merrily, boisterously, 
 and skipped about the room like a bird hop- 
 ping from branch to branch in sheer excess 
 of good spirits. 
 
 " Have a good sleep last night ? " 
 
 " Slept like a top, my man." Gordon was 
 already infected by the child's contagious 
 happiness. 
 
 " I should n't wonder if some folks did n't 
 sleep." Davie assumed a very wise appear- 
 ance. 
 
 " Folks afraid of thunder and lightning ? " 
 The gentleman was thinking of Mary Ran- 
 dolph when he put the question, and his face 
 showed marks of concern. 
 
A KETTLE OF TAB — A FEATHER-BED 77 
 
 " Bad folks ; folks that try to cut up ca- 
 pers — and — Sambo." 
 
 u If you were n't so blithe and merry, my 
 young friend, I should think that something 
 must have happened over at your house last 
 night. If you've any news for me, pass it 
 over." 
 
 But the news-carrier was in a mood to 
 tantalize the gentleman, although it became 
 evident that he was bursting with a desire to 
 tell it. 
 
 Gordon started in pursuit of the boy, chas- 
 ing him around the table and behind the bed 
 and through the door into the hallway, but 
 Davie was too quick for him. 
 
 " Sambo got hurt last night." The child 
 had returned to the bedroom, and Gordon 
 was putting the last touches to his morning 
 toilet. 
 
 "Who hurt him?" 
 
 " They tried to tar and feather him." 
 Davie threw himself on the bed and rolled 
 over it with convulsions of laughter. 
 
 " They thought " — the child lowered his 
 voice and spoke with sudden sobriety and 
 indignation of tone — " they thought it was 
 2/ow." 
 
 A curious expression came over Gordon's 
 
78 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 face. He stood gazing upon the boy with 
 astonishment. 
 
 " They — thought — it — was — me," re- 
 peating the words slowly. " Who thought 
 so?" 
 
 " Mary 'n' I know all about it. I '11 tell 
 you a secret. Somebody hates you and wants 
 to kill you, I think. And so last night four 
 men watched our house, and when they 
 thought you came out the front door they 
 swooped down and caught " — here the child 
 stopped and broke into peals of wild laughter 
 
 — " and caught — and caught Sambo." 
 Wonder, indignation, bewilderment, came 
 
 to the surface in the man's eyes. 
 
 " Somebody says you made the blue lights 
 off the shore of New London," — Davie 
 waited a moment to master his rising anger, 
 
 — " but it 's a lie, I know it 's a lie, cuz you 
 love us, don't you, Gordon ? " From laugh- 
 ter to tears — from towering wrath to sweet- 
 est confidence — the child was passing in a 
 moment. He looked straight into the soul 
 of the man to whom he gave his allegiance. 
 " You would n't play such a nasty trick. 
 You're a gentleman, and we all know it." 
 The little fellow ran across the room to the 
 strong, grave, silent man, sprang into the 
 
A KETTLE OF TAB — A FEATHER-BED 79 
 
 chair near which he was standing, and fling- 
 ing his arms around his neck, kissed him and 
 burst into a passion of tears. 
 
 Oh, the joy, the sacredness, the saving 
 virtue of a child's faith in his friend ! 
 
 The man kissed the boy with infinite ten- 
 derness and affection. 
 
 " And they hurried Sambo off to the old 
 hut," — Davie had lifted his head and was 
 standing on the chair, with one arm resting 
 against the man's shoulder, — " and when they 
 tried to gag him, Sambo hit 'em right and 
 left," — all the vivacity and merriment of the 
 child had returned, — " and did n't he make 
 it lively for 'em? And then Sambo got 
 away and ran in the dark to the hut, and 
 tipped the kettle of tar over, and ripped open 
 the feather-bed so's the feathers flew every 
 which way ; and then he came home." 
 
 The child clapped his hands, and made the 
 room echo his laughter. 
 
 " Is Sambo really hurt ? " 
 
 Gordon was sober and thoughtful as he 
 asked the question. 
 
 " Oh, nothing but a few scratches and a 
 black eye. You just come over and hear him 
 tell about it. But it's a secret, you know. 
 Mary 'n' you 'n' I know it. Nobody else." 
 
80 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 Davie sprang down from the chair and 
 danced about the room with the f riskiness of 
 a colt, while his companion stood absorbed in 
 questionings and reflections. 
 
 " Why don't you ask how it was they took 
 Sambo ?" 
 
 " Yes, Davie/' said Gordon with enkindled 
 interest in his narrative, " how was it that 
 they seized Sambo instead of me ? " 
 
 " I '11 tell you all about it, but Mary tried 
 to make me promise not to." The fire shone 
 in the child's eyes. " I heard some men 
 whispering last evening in the tavern barn. 
 It was dark so they did n't see me. They 
 were hired to catch you and give you a coat 
 of tar and feathers, and they went over to 
 our house to watch. So I told Mary ; and 
 when Captain Jackson and Mr. Peyton went 
 back to the tavern, Mary tried to make you 
 go with them, for she did n't think anybody 
 would pitch on to you three men." Gordon 
 was observing the boy with a curious intensity 
 of expression. " But you would n't go. Then 
 Mary ran and found Sambo, and told him to 
 get ready to go out on an errand for her ; 
 and she told him that some men might try 
 to hurt him, but he could lick 'em, only he 
 was n't to speak until he could n't help it. 
 
A KETTLE OF TAR — A FEATHER-BED 81 
 
 And then " — Davie waited a moment and 
 lowered his voice — " when you were all 
 ready to leave, she sent you out through the 
 back way with a note to Mr. Sherman, while 
 Sambo went out the front door; and they 
 took him before he cleared the gate, and they 
 thought it was you all the time." 
 
 The boy laughed again, with all the mirth- 
 ful abandon of childhood, while the man re- 
 mained grave. 
 
 The interview was broken by Peyton's 
 entrance. 
 
 " Is it you, Davie, making all this noise 
 and disturbing everybody with your hilarity ? " 
 The gentleman's mocking tone betrayed him. 
 
 " My white hen hatched half her eggs ; the 
 rest of them were struck by lightning, and 
 I 'm going to throw them away." The child 
 darted downstairs, and the two friends has- 
 tened after him. 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 
 IN WHICH FOUR LINES MAKE TROUBLE 
 
 " They 're here, and they 're going to live 
 at the tavern. Hurrah for Gordon and Pey- 
 ton ! " 
 
 It was little Davie announcing the arrival 
 of the young gentlemen from Litchfield. 
 
 " You ought to see the stuff they 've 
 brought with them, — boxes and trunks and 
 guns and fishing-tackle and books and bear- 
 skins and such beautiful antlers and every- 
 thing under the sun. Won't we have fun ? 
 They 're gentlemen, both of them, but Jack- 
 son is a Damocrat." The willful child still 
 clung to his profane spelling of the latter 
 word. 
 
 " Well, child," — Martha was speaking, — 
 "a stranger would think that these men 
 were your boon companions " — 
 
 " They are ! " exclaimed Davie stoutly. 
 " Don't we go off in the woods and on the 
 water together? Can't I shoot a rifle when 
 they give me a chance, or haul in a fish as 
 
m WHICH FOUR LINES MAKE TROUBLE 83 
 
 well as Mr. Gordon himself ? " The boy's eyes 
 flashed with enthusiasm. " Oh, we '11 have a 
 jolly time this summer, even if there is war, 
 and the British ships steal along the shore." 
 
 Davie stated a fact when he claimed the 
 two men for his intimate friends. It was a 
 pleasant sight, — the three engaged in some 
 animated discussion, or taking part in jovial 
 sport, or giving close attention to one and 
 another task set them by the young ladies 
 at home. Few men showed keener wit or a 
 brighter spirit than Davie. Vexatious to the 
 last degree, he was still the honest, loving, 
 ingenuous child, gifted with extraordinary in- 
 sight and sensitiveness, intensely loyal to the 
 right, free-hearted and merry as a bird. 
 
 The stage-coach had come, bringing the 
 mail from New York, and the postmaster was 
 examining the letters and papers as he dis- 
 tributed them. It was the exciting hour of 
 the day, and an expectant company thronged 
 the room. 
 
 " Here 's a letter for Mr. Roger M. Sherman, 
 — very clear, bold handwriting. Ah, there 
 you are, Mr. Sherman, all ready to take it, 
 ain't ye?" 
 
 As the letter was passed over to the law- 
 yer, every person along the way gazed upon 
 
84 FBIEND OR FOE 
 
 it in order that he might verify the postmas- 
 ter's description of the chirography. 
 
 " The Reverend Heman Humphrey/' — 
 Mr. Postmaster looked curiously at the mis- 
 sive. " I wonder if it 's a meeting of Conso- 
 ciation that 's called ? Oh, there you are, are 
 ye?" looking toward the front door where 
 Mr. Humphrey stood. " I expect it 's a letter 
 ahout this intemperance question. Let us 
 know, Mr. Humphrey, if there 's any news ? " 
 
 This letter was handed to the minister after 
 being subjected to the same critical exami- 
 nation on the part of every person through 
 whose hands it passed. 
 
 " Mr. David Hardy. A letter from Colo- 
 nel Tallmadge. I always know his writing. 
 I '11 wager my old hat that there 's a spoon- 
 like curved line caught on to the * B ' in his 
 signature, and a final upward twist to the last 
 *e' in his name. Where's uncle David? 
 Anybody seen him to-day ? " 
 
 " I '11 take it," piped up the sweet, bold 
 voice of little Davie. 
 
 " Yes, it 's from Litchfield," observed one 
 of the loungers, as he held the letter long 
 enough to satisfy himself concerning the 
 postmark. " It must be from the colonel." 
 
 "Eh? " exclaimed the postmaster with dis- 
 
IN WHICH FOUR LINES MAKE TROUBLE 85 
 
 gust. " Think I don't know, do ye, and have 
 to wait for your opinion ? " Slowly the letter 
 made its way to the child. 
 
 " Captain Jackson," continued the official. 
 " I s'pose I '11 have to keep it until he calls 
 for it, — left yist'day morning. I declare it 's 
 from some place in Kentucky. Seems to me 
 I 've heard he lives out in them parts when 
 he 's home, — looks so 's it had been through 
 fire and water. He 's a high-spirited fellow, 
 that Captain Jackson. He '11 be back in the 
 war before long." 
 
 " Does n't look like a Westerner, does he ? 
 Must get his clothes in New York," remarked 
 the small man back in the corner. " Folks 
 say he 's a great friend of Aaron Burr." 
 
 " Ah, here 's a letter for me." The post- 
 master's face lighted up with fresh interest. 
 " Who in the world can it be from ? " He 
 turned it over and over, eyeing it with sus- 
 picion and curiosity. " I declare if it ain't 
 from Washington." He began to break the 
 seal, oblivious of the fact that other people 
 were waiting for their mail. " No," he con- 
 inued, " I won't read it now. It '11 take too 
 long. But who has written to me from Wash- 
 ington ? I don't know anybody there." 
 
 "This letter" — laying down the one ad- 
 
86 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 dressed to himself and picking up another — 
 " is for Mr. Marshall Peyton. And it's a 
 woman wrote it, I know, by the size and shape 
 of the letters. Ain't they pritty ? It 's from 
 old Virginny," — gazing around the room for 
 the gentleman to whom it belonged. " Very 
 likely it 's good news from home. Anybody 
 seen Mr. Peyton since breakfast ? " 
 
 " I know where you '11 find him," answered 
 a lad of fifteen, one of the academy boys; 
 " he 's a-courting the Randolph girls." 
 
 " What do you know about it ? " It was 
 the indignant voice of little Davie. " He 's 
 a-fishing and a-hunting and a-swimming with 
 me and Mr. Gordon." 
 
 Hearty laughter greeted this repartee. 
 
 " Miss Mary Randolph," read the post- 
 master. " I think I 've seen the writing of 
 Captain Jackson often enough to know it. 
 If I 'm not mistaken, this letter 's from him. 
 Queer, too, for he has n't been gone but a day 
 or two. It must be something very impor- 
 ant. Here, Davie, will you take this letter of 
 Captain Jackson's to your sister ? " 
 
 As it was handed to the boy he regarded 
 the small packet with noticeable disfavor, 
 shoving it carelessly into his pocket, while he 
 whistled a refrain from a comic song of the 
 day. 
 
IN WHICH FOUE LINES MAKE TBOUBLE 87 
 
 " Here 's a letter for Mr. Murray Gordon 
 — very peculiar writing — must be an old per- 
 son wrote it, a man I should say, and — the 
 deuce ! " exclaimed the startled postmaster, 
 hesitating and turning red in the face as he 
 proceeded — " it 's from England 1" He wiped 
 the sweat from his brow and looked upon the 
 company with anxiety. 
 
 " I '11 take it, if you please," said Davie, 
 with firm voice. " He told me to bring his 
 mail to him. We 're — we 're going to take 
 a horseback ride into the country together." 
 
 There were nods and winks and smiles to 
 be observed as the boy made this remark and 
 hastened from the room. 
 
 " They say that Gordon is one of the men 
 who signaled with blue lights off the shore of 
 New London last December." 
 
 " I 've heard that report before," answered 
 the postmaster, gazing with a severe expres- 
 sion into the eyes of the man who spoke, 
 " and I don't believe a word of it. He may 
 be from England and he may be from the 
 ends of the earth, I don't know ; but wher- 
 ever he 's from, and whoever he is, I '11 stake 
 my honor on his being a square man." 
 
 The postmaster was a person of influence 
 in town, and his word went far with many of 
 his fellow citizens. 
 
88 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 " Well, I guess he come near being tarred 
 and feathered, by what I hear." 
 
 " And a shameful thing it was," continued 
 the postmaster, with a magisterial air. 
 
 All this time he was fumbling a letter, 
 while his fellow citizens awaited his conven- 
 ience with patient goodwill. 
 
 " The Honorable Lewis B. Sturges." The 
 name was rolled out with prolonged emphasis. 
 " Is our member of Congress present ? This 
 must be business of state. See how big and 
 thick the package is." 
 
 " It 's my opinion " — there was a quiet, 
 subdued underflow of talk during the dis- 
 tribution of the mail — " that Commodore 
 Decatur was mistaken about the blue lights, 
 and a great injustice has been done this 
 State." It Was the physician who expressed 
 his mind. 
 
 " And it is my opinion," said one of the 
 Burrs, " that the fellows who tried to tar and 
 feather Mr. Gordon ought to be tarred and 
 feathered themselves." 
 
 The law student was evidently regaining 
 popular favor. 
 
 "And it 's my opinion " — a new voice was 
 now contributed to the talk — " that Con- 
 necticut will go to the dogs unless the war 
 
IN WHICH FOUR LINES MAKE TROUBLE 89 
 
 soon ends and we get a chance to revive our 
 trade and commerce." 
 
 So the conversation continued, while Mr. 
 Postmaster called out the names of the lucky 
 receivers of mail-matter, and made his char- 
 acteristic remarks upon the letters or papers 
 which he slowly distributed. 
 
 Davie carried his mail stuff to the home- 
 stead, and then set off on horseback with Gor- 
 don and Peyton. It was a little trip into the 
 hill country, planned for his special pleasure. 
 
 They were resting under the trees a dozen 
 or fifteen miles from home, and the boy was 
 amusing them with his antics. 
 
 " You see," he said, " Captain Jackson was 
 sweeter than honey. I knew something was 
 to pay, so I kept my eye on him. Well, the 
 last evening, he said he had a gold dollar for 
 me if I 'd sing, and I was singing in less 
 than a minute. Here 's the dollar," pulling 
 the coin from a little bag made of a pig's 
 bladder. " It 's good, is n't it ? " While the 
 men examined it, the boy continued : " Then 
 I went to bed, but I did n't feel sleepy, and 
 bimeby I tied a piece of red cloth about my 
 head and wrapped myself in a red bed-quilt 
 and jumped on a broomstick and pranced 
 into the parlor, and it was just in the nick of 
 
90 FBIEND OR FOE 
 
 time, for Martha 'd gone out, and Uncle 
 David did n't hear anything, and Jackson 
 was a-saying something that scared Mary, for 
 she was white as a sheet and sat as still as a 
 mouse. He was standing right by her side, 
 looking down like a hawk ready to pounce 
 upon a chicken." The boy's hearers were 
 absorbed in his rapid story. u When I sprang 
 into the room, something tripped me, you 
 know, and I struck the captain straight in the 
 knees, and then we toppled over a chair, and 
 Uncle David waked up and blew the light 
 out ; and did n't we have fun ? " 
 
 Gordon and Peyton were laughing heartily. 
 
 " I heard Mary crying after the girls went 
 to bed. I should n't wonder if he said 
 something to hurt her feelings. I don't like 
 Jackson. Do you ? " He lifted his eyes in- 
 quiringly, but no answer was given. Fling- 
 ing himself down on the soft mossy bed, the 
 boy soon dropped asleep. 
 
 Peyton was the one to break the long si- 
 lence. " Gordon, we must look out for 
 breakers." 
 
 " Well, my friend," was the reply, " we 've 
 always been able to take care of ourselves, and 
 I see no reason for fretting over the future. 
 Evidently the captain did n't find life quite to 
 
W WHICH FOUR LINES MAKE TROUBLE 91 
 
 his satisfaction, or he would not have left 
 town so abruptly." 
 
 " Oh, he '11 come back soon enough. Of 
 course it was Jackson who hired those fellows 
 to try the tar and feather trick. That little 
 chap," pointing to the slumbering Davie, " is 
 about as bright as they make them. I 'd 
 much rather have him for my friend than my 
 foe." 
 
 " Ah, Davie is a royal soul, Peyton. He 
 has a good deal more of the man in him 
 than of the boy." 
 
 There followed busy days for the gentle- 
 men. They were to read a certain portion 
 of the time, and then learn to copy briefs, 
 and do the office work, which would make 
 them familiar with legal procedure in Con- 
 necticut. 
 
 Davie was a person also that had to be 
 considered, for he claimed his friends every 
 day, inventing the most ingenious excuses for 
 dragging them to the shore or the woods 
 or the trout brooks. 
 
 The long, delicious evenings were devoted 
 to the ladies. 
 
 Jackson returned to Fairfield early in July. 
 His relations with his two fellow students 
 seemed strained, yet there was no open break, 
 
92 FRIEND OR- FOE 
 
 and he spent his time with them or the sis- 
 ters. 
 
 " Come, Peyton," — it was a languid, poetic 
 twilight of a long summer's day, — " recite 
 those verses on the awakening of spring 
 which you 've been writing." Jackson's tone 
 was one of indifferent persuasion. " It 's 
 wicked to hide your light under a bushel." 
 
 " What do you know about my verses ? " 
 spoken with asperity, revealing the sensitive- 
 ness of the poet. 
 
 " Well, if you are not willing to favor 
 the company," — the girls, with Davie and 
 the three young gentlemen, were seated on the 
 rear porch of the homestead, — " I '11 recite 
 them myself. Writers of songs are proverbi- 
 ally modest, we know." 
 
 " Oh, we should love to hear the verses. 
 He 's half promised to read us something a 
 score of times." 
 
 " You shall have your wish gratified." 
 Jackson turned to Miss Mary as he arose in 
 the dim light and cleared his voice for the 
 recitation. 
 
 Peyton was regarding him suspiciously, for 
 how did Jackson know that he had written a 
 poem on spring, or who would dare steal his 
 rhymes ? 
 
IN WHICH FOUR LINES MAKE TROUBLE 93 
 
 " A common, mighty impulse moves 
 Earth's heedful, patient, joyous spirit; 
 The sympathetic ear can hear it, — 
 This labor song of fields and groves." 
 
 Jackson recited the lines rapidly, yet with 
 fine expression. 
 
 " And, pray, sir," — Peyton sprang to his 
 feet, — "how came you into possession of 
 my verses?" There was a peculiar tremor 
 in his words ; the dim light concealed his 
 face so that observers did not see the flash 
 of anger. 
 
 " I think they are beautiful, Mr. Peyton. 
 Did you really write them ? " 
 
 " Yes," was the sweet comment of Martha, 
 " there is the true ring of poetry in them. 
 Why have you never read us a single verse ? " 
 
 The good opinion of the ladies evidently 
 calmed the ruffled feelings of the poet; still 
 he pressed his question. 
 
 " You will please to explain, Captain Jack- 
 son, how you procured my verse's." 
 
 " Is that a command or a request ? " was 
 the captain's mellifluous reply. 
 
 Evidently he wished to annoy Peyton. 
 
 " Take it as you please." 
 
 " Oh, I am sure that Captain Jackson must 
 have heard you repeat them to yourself," 
 
94 FRIEND OB FOE 
 
 interposed Mary gently. Her keen mind had 
 discovered that the best of feeling did not 
 exist between the gentlemen, and she would 
 avoid if possible the threatened rupture. 
 
 " Miss Mary, you are always right." Jack- 
 son addressed the lady with all the gracious 
 deference and sincere homage of his nature. 
 " Our rooms at the tavern are so near together 
 that I often hear my sentimental friend ex- 
 ercising his genius. I'll candidly say that 
 the verses I have repeated struck my fancy. 
 I was strongly tempted to write them down 
 and give them into your keeping." 
 
 " If I was in your place, captain," — Gor- 
 don now made his first contribution to the 
 strife, — " I 'd do the poet the courtesy of 
 asking his permission the next time." 
 
 " I 've no doubt you would," was the reply ; 
 " but I generally do much as I please without 
 consultation with Mr. Gordon or Mr. Peyton." 
 
 " Let us sit within doors," exclaimed Mary, 
 rising and leading the way to the parlor. 
 
 " I call a fellow a thief that steals another's 
 thoughts or songs," whispered Gordon to Pey- 
 ton. 
 
 Captain Jackson heard the remark, and 
 looked his defiance as they drew near the 
 light. 
 
CHAPTER X 
 
 PISTOLS AND TEN FULL PACES 
 
 It had been the custom of the young men 
 to sit down to a game of cards on their 
 return from the Hardy s'. The stakes were 
 generally small, the purpose being to spice 
 their amusement. 
 
 It was three nights after the episode of 
 the verses that Jackson, Peyton, Gordon, and 
 Dana, one of the later students from the law 
 school, resorted to what they sometimes called 
 their nightcap game. The room in which 
 they played was remote from other sleeping- 
 rooms, and the winds blew a gale, so that 
 they had no fear of disturbing any neighbor- 
 ing sleeper. The stakes had been high from 
 the beginning, Jackson pocketing the money. 
 
 Peyton and the comrade from Litchfield 
 were excited, and played with poor judgment. 
 Jackson showed great nerve, evidently master 
 of the situation. Gordon was cool and watch- 
 ful, his eyes bent on the manipulations of the 
 captain. 
 
96 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 Politics frequently interrupted the game, — 
 Jackson making several cutting remarks upon 
 the Federalists, viciously trying to kindle the 
 anger of his opponents. 
 
 " They 're a lot of traitors, these New Eng- 
 land aristocrats. They '11 be advocating a 
 confederacy of their own, one of these days. 
 War touches them in their most vulnerable 
 part — the pocket." 
 
 " I don't know that they love money any 
 better than the representatives of the South- 
 west whom I 've met in Connecticut," was the 
 spirited answer of the Virginian. 
 
 " That 's a home thrust," said Jackson sar- 
 castically. 
 
 Gordon was quietly, intently following the 
 movements of the man from the Ohio. 
 
 " In my opinion, the whole Federalist party 
 is honeycombed with disloyalty," — rounding 
 out the sentence with an oath ; " and I 've 
 no doubt that England has a full quota of 
 minions in this country, — men who are 
 playing the spy, and seeking to destroy 
 the Union." The silence which followed was 
 broken by the same voice. " In fact," and 
 the face of Jackson expressed more than his 
 words, " I '11 bet what money I can raise 
 within the next twenty-four hours that we 
 
PISTOLS AND TEN FULL PACES 97 
 
 might name at least one of these contempti- 
 ble devils." 
 
 " Put up any sum you please/' — Gordon 
 was calm and direct in his speech, — " and 
 I '11 meet you." 
 
 The game had become intense in its fasci- 
 nation, the stakes being doubled and trebled. 
 Jackson's mind now centred on the playing, 
 and silence prevailed. 
 
 Then Gordon sprang to his feet and flung 
 the cards upon the table. 
 
 " Jackson," said he, speaking with delib- 
 eration and point-blank charge, " you 're a 
 cheat and a blackleg." 
 
 The other men were on their feet in a 
 second. 
 
 Wild and cruel shrieked the eastern winds 
 as they rattled the windows and shook the 
 trees, fitting accompaniment to the storm of 
 passions rioting in the breasts of the men. 
 
 " You lie ! " shouted Jackson, with an oath. 
 " You sly dog of a British spy, you infernal 
 plotter of evil, you scum, you dregs, you 
 sleek-faced imp of hell, — how I hate you ! " 
 
 The fury of his curses passed all imagin- 
 ing. 
 
 Gordon was now touched in his most sen- 
 sitive place, for honor was impeached. Slow 
 
98 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 to give way to wrath, he was a frightful ex- 
 ample of its horrors when finally aroused. 
 
 The two players glared at one another for 
 a moment, and then a common impulse drove 
 them together. 
 
 " Men, men," exclaimed Peyton, realizing 
 their predicament, and rushing between the 
 combatants, " I beg of you to stop. This is 
 no time or place to settle quarrels." 
 
 Gordon regained his self-possession, while 
 Dana reasoned with Jackson. 
 
 Sweeping the stakes into his pockets, and 
 still flaming with a passion that was little 
 short of diabolic, the captain withdrew under 
 the strong pressure of his friend. 
 
 " You will hear from me in the morning," 
 he screamed above the rough, shrill, mocking 
 voices of the gale, giving Gordon a parting 
 look of venomous hatred. 
 
 " Yes, I suppose it will be a challenge to a 
 duel," was the answer to a question put by 
 Peyton a half hour later. 
 
 " The fellow is n't worth a duel. He ought 
 to be in prison." 
 
 " I know it, but what can a man do under 
 the circumstances?" Gordon was self-pos- 
 sessed and matter-of-fact. 
 
 " But think of the excitement it will create 
 
PISTOLS AND TEN FULL PACES 99 
 
 in case anything comes of it. The country- 
 has been ringing with tirades against the 
 practice ever since Burr shot Hamilton. Dr. 
 Nott, Mr. Beecher, and other public men 
 have turned the current of public opinion 
 into strong disapproval. I verily believe 
 we 'd be driven from the State, if we had any 
 part in a duel here. And you know how 
 Colonel Tallmadge and uncle David Hardy 
 have talked and talked until they count us 
 converts to their faith. I tell you, Gordon, 
 if Jackson challenges you, we shall be in a 
 pretty pickle." 
 
 The sun was heralding the new day before 
 the young men sought their short hour of 
 sleep. 
 
 A little before noon, Jackson's comrade 
 brought the expected challenge. It was evi- 
 dent that the captain had Colonel Burr in 
 mind. Taking him as pattern, he was seek- 
 ing the satisfaction which he believed would 
 clear the way for a successful courtship, and 
 at the same time vindicate his honor. 
 
 True, Gordon had the name of being a 
 good shot, and he was a fellow of remarkable 
 nerve ; still, Jackson thought himself the 
 superior of his antagonist, so that he was 
 confident in his purpose. 
 
100 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 There was considerable correspondence over 
 the affair, stretching through several days ; 
 but it was plain that no adjustment could 
 be reached other than by this appeal to the 
 arbitrament of destiny. 
 
 Jackson continued his visits to the girls, 
 meeting both Gordon and Peyton at their 
 house. But it was little Davie who discovered 
 that something had happened so that the 
 gentlemen stood on a different footing with 
 each other. He was one always sniffing fun 
 or mischief, and the conviction grew strong 
 in his young, vigorous mind that mischief — 
 not fun — was brewing. In spite of his 
 watch and suspicion, however, the child was 
 not able to unravel the mystery. 
 
 "I tell you, Mary," observed the young 
 sage, " There 's bad blood between Mr. Gor- 
 don and Captain Jackson. I see it all the 
 time." 
 
 " Davie, I sometimes fear there 's not the 
 best of feeling on their part. We must try 
 to heal the breach and make them friends 
 again." 
 
 " But I don't like Jackson, and I don't 
 believe you do. Why don't you get rid 
 of him ? Tell him to go back to the war." 
 
 " What old talk for a young head," was 
 
PISTOLS AND TEN FULL PACES 1#1 
 
 Mary's reply. " Child, do you think I 'm like 
 the centurion, who simply had to say to one 
 soldier ' Go/ and he goeth, and to another 
 * Come,' and he cometh ? " 
 
 " Mary," the boy whispered in a confiden- 
 tial way, "what should we do if anything 
 happened to Gordon or — Peyton," adding 
 the last name as a sort of appendix or supple- 
 ment to the first. 
 
 What Davie had said was indefinite, — 
 guess-work on his part, yet it disquieted 
 Mary Kandolph. 
 
 " I return to New York on urgent business 
 to-morrow," said Jackson, the last evening 
 that he tarried with the young ladies. 
 
 "And we shall follow in a day or two," 
 remarked Peyton jocosely. But the jestful 
 manner lacked genuineness. 
 
 Jackson was singularly fervent in his 
 adieus. 
 
 Gordon and Peyton prolonged their stay 
 for half an hour, and then returned to the 
 tavern. 
 
 The next evening they remained with the 
 sisters until a late hour, paying them unusual 
 courtesies, diverting their minds with the 
 freshest wit of the day, abounding in gossip, 
 anecdote, and jollity. Little Davie sat with 
 
102 FRIEND OB FOE 
 
 them until he fell asleep through sheer ex- 
 haustion, crying the next morning when he 
 learned that they had gone away at an early 
 hour, and the good-by all unspoken. 
 
 The City Hotel in New York was their 
 rendezvous; there Peyton was to arrange the 
 last details of the duel. 
 
 "I don't believe in this way of settling 
 quarrels or vindicating a man's honor." Pey- 
 ton was dispirited and uneasy as he spoke. 
 " I 've been reared among people that made 
 dueling a common practice, and I never 
 questioned the right of it until I met Colonel 
 Tallmadge and Mr. Beecher, but now it goes 
 against my conscience and judgment. I wish 
 we could devise an honorable way out of the 
 horrible nightmare." 
 
 " Peyton, we must give Jackson his chance 
 to get rid of a foe. It 's fate. I 've known 
 for weeks — months — that it was bound to 
 come." 
 
 Captain Jackson, imitating the example of 
 Colonel Burr, wished to cross over to the 
 Jersey shore, and Gordon was familiar with 
 a lonely spot on the edge of the Bay, — one 
 that might be reached with comparative ease, 
 and would afford them the security desired. 
 
 In two parties they made their way to this 
 
PISTOLS AND TEN FULL PACES 103 
 
 place early on the morning of the second day 
 after their arrival in the city. 
 
 Gordon had arranged his affairs, and now 
 was prepared to face the worst. Serene in 
 aspect, he talked to Peyton as they crossed 
 to the Jersey shore like a man engaged in 
 some ordinary task. Not that he failed to 
 measure the peril before him, or that he felt 
 sure in respect to the end. Gordon's was a 
 deep, rich nature, whose surface only partially 
 revealed the great stores of manhood's finest 
 treasures. The glow of a strong and mani- 
 fold life was discernible in his dark, serious 
 eyes, but never a hint of dread, anxiety, or 
 disquiet appeared. 
 
 "If Jackson rids himself of a rival to- 
 day," — Gordon's tone was that of a man 
 discussing crops, ships, music, or any timely 
 subject, — " don't think that you are to take 
 up cudgels in behalf of a fallen comrade." 
 
 There was a strange, sudden griping in 
 Peyton's throat, so that he made no reply. 
 
 " Whatever happens," — the spirit throbbed 
 in Gordon's words, — "I want you to know 
 that in my opinion a truer, manlier friend 
 never breathed the breath of life than the 
 one now by my side." 
 
 Peyton's eyes filled with tears as he seized 
 
104 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 his comrade's hand, but he was so agitated 
 that words refused to come. 
 
 "Jackson is a scoundrel. I have been 
 piecing things together in my mind, and I 
 am convinced that he was the master spirit 
 in most of the chicanery known to us since 
 we came to Litchfield. Nevertheless, I stand 
 by what I said to you some months ago, — 
 there 's some good in the fellow." 
 
 The vigor with which Gordon spoke ruffled 
 the man's customary tranquillity. 
 
 " Gordon, you 've always been a mystery 
 to us. We don't know where you came 
 from " — Peyton hesitated, as a fresh thought 
 interrupted the train he was pursuing, and 
 he changed his tone, saying parenthetically, 
 " but I 'm very sure where you 're going to, if 
 you go out of this world ; " then he contin- 
 ued, — " but this one thing I will say, I 'd 
 trust you to the ends of the earth. I 'd trust 
 you with everything most sacred to me, old 
 fellow," — there was infinite affection in the 
 words, — " I 'd trust you as Jonathan trusted 
 David." 
 
 Deep silence followed, language failing in 
 certain tender offices. 
 
 It was worth fire and sword, this friendship 
 love. 
 
PISTOLS AND TEN FULL PACES 105 
 
 " And there 's little Davie ; " Gordon bent 
 his head much as if the boy was walking by 
 his side and he would speak to him. " Ah, 
 Peyton, he 's a choice soul, full of the devil, 
 everybody says, but you and I know that he 
 has the making of as grand a man as ever 
 trod the soil of his State. How I love the 
 child ! Peyton, I have two brothers," — this 
 was the first bit of family confidence which 
 Gordon had ever reposed in his comrade, — 
 " but I 've never felt a brother's love in my 
 soul until I learned to love Davie — and — 
 you." There was a telltale pause. " I 'ni 
 like the homesick boy," — a whimsical ex- 
 pression flitted across Gordon's face, — " who 
 longed to be in his father's stables so that he 
 could run into the house and see his mother ; 
 I long to be with little Davie, so that I can 
 run into the house and see the rest of the 
 folks." Both the men broke into a gentle, 
 kindly laugh as a relief to their pent-up 
 emotions. 
 
 When they reached the secluded ground, 
 Jackson, his second, and a surgeon awaited 
 them. 
 
 The captain was polite and guarded, yet 
 his manner showed strong excitement. The 
 fell purpose which he cherished had inflamed 
 
106 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 all the wild passions of the man so that a very 
 demon of fury seemed to possess him. 
 
 They were to use pistols. 
 
 The seconds measured off the distance, ten 
 full paces, and then lots were cast for the 
 choice of positions. The choice fell to Gor- 
 don, who naturally took the place which gave 
 him the advantage of the sun over the right 
 shoulder. Jackson ground his teeth with 
 rage. 
 
 A lot was also cast to determine who 
 should give the word, and this choice came to 
 the captain. 
 
 The pistols were loaded in each other's 
 presence, and the men took their places. 
 
 It was a superb, cloudless morning, the 
 fresh breezes striking across the island from 
 the sea. 
 
 The rules governing their procedure were 
 read, the men holding their weapons in readi- 
 ness for the fatal word. 
 
 " Are you prepared ? " asked Jackson's 
 second. 
 
 " Yes," was the reply. 
 
 " Present." 
 
 They presented, and fired almost simulta- 
 neously. 
 
 As the wind cleared away the smoke, Jack- 
 
PISTOLS AND TEN FULL PACES 107 
 
 son spoke in an undertone to his second, 
 raising his hand to the right ear, from which 
 trickled a few drops of blood. 
 
 Gordon stood in his position a few seconds, 
 then reeled, and fell upon his face. 
 
 " Curse him ! curse him ! " muttered Jack- 
 son, his face contorted with passion, as he 
 turned again to his second and hastened with 
 him from the field to their boat moored a 
 little distance away. 
 
 The surgeon ran to Gordon, by whose side 
 Peyton had already knelt. 
 
 The wounded man was placed upon his 
 back and examined. The ball had evidently 
 been aimed at the- heart, but it struck above 
 that organ, lodging in the left lung. 
 
 Taking the sufferer down to his boat, re- 
 storatives being applied, he soon regained 
 consciousness, but who could say what might 
 be the result ? Gordon was a man in perfect 
 health, robust of constitution, and strong 
 willed. There was hope for him, and every- 
 thing which good care, a devoted friend, and 
 the science of the day might accomplish would 
 be done. 
 
 They carried the wounded man to his room 
 in the City Hotel. Time alone was to reveal 
 the end. 
 
CHAPTEK XI 
 
 DAVIE SINGS FOR THE CAPTAIN 
 
 Captain Jackson believed that he had 
 given Gordon a mortal wound. Hurrying 
 back to the city, he sprang upon his steed 
 and galloped toward Fairfield. At Rye he 
 changed horses and pushed forward with 
 fresh vigor. 
 
 " Gordon has no family or intimate friends/' 
 reasoned the captain. "He will linger a 
 few hours or a day or two, and Peyton will 
 take charge of him. The duel will be kept a 
 secret. Now is the chance to win my heart's 
 love and get pledges from that pure soul." 
 
 So the man knocked at the Hardy man- 
 sion, late on the evening of this fateful day. 
 
 " Why, Captain Jackson, when did you 
 leave New York ? " was the greeting of Mary, 
 as the young man entered the parlor. 
 
 " This morning," was the answer. " I 
 jumped from one charger to another in Rye, 
 so that I made the trip in easy jaunts." 
 
 " And where are the other gentlemen ? " 
 
DAVIE SINGS FOR THE CAPTAIN 109 
 
 " They have business which detains them." 
 Never a shadow of fear or remorse crept into 
 his face. 
 
 " Where did you see Mr. Gordon last ? " 
 Little Davie was inquisitive, for the swift 
 and unexplained departure of his friends had 
 grieved him. 
 
 " Well, he and Peyton went on an excur- 
 sion into Jersey this morning. I saw them 
 crossing the river. They like to have a good 
 time, you know, and dip into life when they 
 get a chance." The words lacked heartiness, 
 but that might be explained by the fact that 
 Jackson was jealous. 
 
 "I've a great secret to tell you," said 
 Jackson a half hour later. He was talking 
 in a confidential way to Mary. 
 
 " Is it about Gordon ? " inquired Davie, 
 whose ears seemed preternaturally sharp. He 
 had been reading Pilgrim's Progress when 
 Jackson spoke in an undertone to his sister. 
 
 The young man, annoyed by the child, 
 was forced to make the best of the situation 
 and commit his secret to the ears of Davie 
 and the rest of the family. 
 
 " I 've been pressed to return to the army 
 and go to the Southwest." 
 
 " And you will go ? Your wound is healed, 
 is it ? " 
 
110 FBIEND OR FOE 
 
 " Ah, Miss Mary, the wound is healed, 
 but," — lowering his voice so that only the 
 ears of the girl might catch the sentence, 
 " I am suffering " — 
 
 " You did n't get shot to-day, did you ? " 
 exclaimed Davie, whose keen hearing had 
 caught each word. " You have n't been 
 fighting, have you ? " a look of real concern 
 showing in his face. 
 
 Jackson, discomfited, tried to conceal his 
 vexation. 
 
 " There are other wounds quite as deep and 
 painful as flesh wounds." But as everybody 
 in the room heard the remark, it lost a par- 
 ticular application. 
 
 " If a man is hit in the heart when he is 
 fighting," observed Davie, in a matter-of-fact 
 way, " it kills him, does n't it? " 
 
 " I think that is the average experience," 
 was the captain's reply. 
 
 " I shall wear a shield over my heart when 
 I go to war. I '11 make a cute little iron one 
 down at the forge. Why don't you cover 
 your heart, Mr. Jackson ? " 
 
 " What 's the use," continued the captain, 
 " when you are already wounded ? It 's like 
 locking the barn after the horse is stolen." 
 
 The child was puzzled, the simile lacking 
 point for him. 
 
DAVIE SINGS FOB THE CAPTAIN 111 
 
 " There are specifics for heart troubles," 
 observed Martha soberly. " I cannot speak 
 from experience," — she smiled as she raised 
 her head and turned to Mr. Jackson, — " but 
 I've been told that honest daily labor will 
 often work marvelous cures." 
 
 " I know a man that had heart disease and 
 he dropped dead." Davie contributed the 
 remark with feeling. 
 
 " The conversation has taken a rather dole- 
 ful turn," said Mary ; " let us talk on some 
 more cheerful subject." 
 
 "Pistols," suggested Davie, always mani- 
 festing interest in war and firearms. 
 
 The next morning Jackson called upon Mr. 
 David Hardy. His air of importance and 
 determination failed to impress the absent- 
 minded gentleman. 
 
 " I wish to speak confidentially with you 
 in regard to your niece, Miss Randolph." 
 
 " My niece, my niece," repeated Mr. Hardy 
 vaguely, finally arousing to the fact that he 
 probably meant Mary ; " why, sir," surprise 
 depicted upon his frank countenance, " I am 
 astonished, astonished ! What can she have 
 done — that — that — you bring any com- 
 plaints against her ? " The words stuck in 
 his throat as he uttered them. 
 
112 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 " Mr. Hardy/' — the captain spoke with 
 haste and sincerity, — " you misapprehend my 
 purpose. Your niece is the very flower of 
 womanhood." 
 
 "I — I — yes, — Mr. Jackson — that is — 
 Mary is a very good girl and so is Martha. 
 I am proud of them, and — they seem very 
 happy together — and " — 
 
 Evidently Mr. Hardy had lost the connec- 
 tion, his mind drifting away into unknown 
 seas. He had been thinking upon the re- 
 ligious problems suggested by the French 
 Revolution, and this attempt to bring him 
 back to Connecticut and domestic affairs was 
 a great shock. 
 
 " I am urged by old friends to return to 
 the army and hasten into the Southwest, but, 
 Mr. Hardy, I cannot go without some cheer- 
 ing word." 
 
 " Yes, indeed," said Mr. Hardy, " war is an 
 awful calamity, and France will not recover in 
 another generation. But it is the spiritual 
 condition that occasions the chief peril. The 
 whole nation has rapidly passed into rankest 
 infidelity, and God alone knows what will be 
 the outcome." 
 
 Jackson was at his wits' end. 
 
 " The top of the morning to you," said a 
 
DAVIE SINGS FOB THE CAPTAIN 113 
 
 mocking voice, stealing gently from the cor- 
 ner of the room. 
 
 " Ah, it is you, Davie. Your uncle and I 
 were discussing war. Shall I see your sis- 
 ters?" 
 
 " Use your eyes, and you '11 see them on 
 the back porch. Old Dinah 's sick to-day and 
 the girls are doing the churning. Come and 
 help us," leading the way to the rear of the 
 house. 
 
 " Captain Jackson wants to churn," shouted 
 the frolicsome child. " Give him a chance, 
 girls." 
 
 Not to be embarrassed or beaten by a small 
 boy, the ex-soldier took hold of the churn- 
 dasher and began his service. But there was 
 grave peril from the spilling and spattering of 
 the cream upon his clothes, so Davie insisted 
 upon fastening an apron around his waist. 
 
 Davie's mischief amused them all so that 
 they made the welkin ring with merry laugh- 
 ter. As the butter was coming, the task soon 
 ended, and then the party returned to the 
 cool front room. 
 
 " Come, Davie," said the captain indul- 
 gently, u here 's another gold dollar for you, 
 and you are to sing us a song." 
 
 He placed the glittering coin upon the palm 
 
114 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 of his hand, and the child drew near to ex- 
 amine it. 
 
 "You '11 sing?" 
 
 " Yes," was the reply, as he slipped the 
 dollar into his pocket and cleared his throat 
 for the performance. 
 
 Jackson enjoyed the comic ditties of the 
 day. Several of them had been purchased 
 for Davie, who sang them with great spirit. 
 
 Taking his stand near the door, — a con- 
 venient point for escape, — and making his 
 very best bow, the child sang : — 
 
 " Hark, from the tombs a doleful sound, 
 Mine ears, attend the cry ; 
 Ye living men, come, view the ground 
 Where you must shortly lie." 
 
 Before the first stanza was finished, Mary 
 started for the child, but he slipped into the 
 entry, and continued the familiar hymn of 
 Watts, — 
 
 " Great God, is this our certain doom ? 
 And are we still secure ? 
 Still walking downward to our tomb, 
 And yet prepared no more ? " 
 
 He sang the two stanzas with his charac- 
 teristic sweetness and power, with all the 
 sobriety of a worshiper in the meeting-house, 
 and then he fled precipitately. 
 
 The effect of the hymn was not cheering, 
 
DAVIE SINGS FOR THE CAPTAIN 115 
 
 but the sisters rallied, and made jestful re- 
 marks upon the willful pranks of the incorri- 
 gible child. 
 
 Mr. David Hardy was still sitting in the 
 cool parlor absorbed in books, writing fre- 
 quent notes upon narrow slips of paper, or 
 gazing blankly into space while living over 
 again the riotous days of the Red Cockade. 
 The entrance of the young people had not 
 disturbed him, but the song of the child 
 appeared to bring him back to the present. 
 
 "Ah, Captain Jackson, how are you this 
 fine morning ? " the earlier interview with 
 the gentleman having faded into oblivion; 
 " what is the word from our young friends ?" 
 
 " A glorious day, Mr. Hardy. Fine 
 weather ; warm enough to make corn grow, 
 and yet not too hot to be seasonable. It's 
 the first of the week since I saw the gentle- 
 men. They are staying at the City Hotel, 
 and I warrant you they are making hay while 
 the sun shines. These sporting men like to 
 go on a lark once in a while." 
 
 It had been noticed by the sisters that 
 Jackson seemed averse to saying anything 
 good about his absent comrades. The in- 
 nuendoes slyly injected into his talk were 
 sometimes venomous, although he generally 
 
116 FEIEND OR FOE 
 
 avoided mentioning either Gordon or Pey- 
 ton. 
 
 " Captain Jackson tells us that he will soon 
 return to the army," observed Mary. 
 
 " Oh, this war, how I grieve over it ! " was 
 uncle David's reply. 
 
 " The Federalists seem pretty active these 
 days." The captain spoke with restraint, for 
 he respected Mr. Hardy, and was anxious to 
 win his goodwill. " I 'm sometimes afraid 
 they '11 be doing things to encourage disunion 
 and worse reverses than we have already 
 suffered." 
 
 " Well, sir, you may be assured that New 
 England will act for what she thinks is the 
 best. It 's very hard on us here in the East. 
 We 've taxes to pay for the running of the 
 government and the carrying on of war, and 
 then we 're left to look after the defense of 
 our own shores, and to suffer all the encroach- 
 ments of the enemy. It 's a very ill-advised 
 and unhappy conflict." 
 
 Jackson bit his lips while Mr. Hardy was 
 speaking. He might discuss politics freely 
 and frankly with Peyton, but there was too 
 much at stake here for him to involve himself 
 in heated talk. 
 
 "I shall be a soldier when I'm a man 
 
DAVIE SINGS FOR THE CAPTAIN 117 
 
 grown," interrupted Davie, who had walked 
 into the room unobserved. H I shall cover 
 my heart with a cute iron shield when I go 
 into battle, so 's not to die of heart trouble." 
 He winked significantly at Mary. " Hurrah 
 for New England ! " 
 
 Having added his share to the conversa- 
 tion, he skipped across the room to his elder 
 sister, printed a resounding kiss square upon 
 her lips, and then climbed airily out of the 
 window. 
 
 " I suppose we shall see wild times here 
 in the State before the war ends," observed 
 Martha anxiously. " Will you go to New 
 Orleans, Captain Jackson ? " 
 
 " I shall be at the service of my country, 
 Miss Martha," was the reply ; " glad to go 
 down the Mississippi or elsewhere if needful." 
 
 There was further discussion of war, poli- 
 tics, and government, but Jackson spoke with 
 great reserve, fearing to give offense to his 
 friends. 
 
 He was sitting beneath the shade of the 
 Virginia creeper on the back porch, one day, 
 the two sisters doing all in their power to 
 entertain him. The man appeared dejected, 
 although the subtle witchery of his eyes was 
 brought into play whenever Mary Randolph 
 
118 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 lifted her face from her patchwork, and per- 
 mitted him to hold her own eyes captive for 
 a moment. 
 
 " I 've a big letter for Captain Jackson,' 1 
 shouted little Davie, as he ran around the 
 corner of the house. " It 's from New York. 
 Look at it." 
 
 He held it high in the air, while the cap- 
 tain stood upon his feet and reached for the 
 document. 
 
 " And Mr. Sherman has a letter from 
 Peyton." 
 
 As the name was spoken, a slight look of 
 alarm passed over Jackson's face. 
 
 " I know Peyton's writing, and so does the 
 postmaster. Mr. Sherman is away, but he 's 
 coming home in the morning. I think Gor- 
 don might have written/' 
 
 Jackson lingered a half hour, more de- 
 pressed than ever, his gloom and disappoint- 
 ment contrasting curiously with the splendor 
 of the day, the liveliness of the girls, and the 
 high hopes with which he had returned to 
 Fairfield. 
 
 The following morning he bade his friends 
 a long and painful farewell. A sudden 
 emergency demanded his presence in New 
 York. 
 
CHAPTEK XII 
 
 " HERB 's FOUL CRIME, ROBBERY AND 
 
 MURDER " 
 
 It was a mystifying note which Mr. Sher- 
 man received from Peyton. The young man 
 wrote for the purpose of explaining his ab- 
 sence. 
 
 "Evidently something has happened to 
 Mr. Gordon." The lawyer was stating the 
 case to the sisters. 
 
 " You don't suppose there 's been trouble 
 between the gentlemen?" Mary put the 
 question to Martha, as they walked down the 
 street. 
 
 " Oh, Mary, so many young men are hot- 
 headed and violent. I don't think Mr. Gor- 
 don would do anything wrong," — spoken 
 with a force of conviction that startled the 
 elder sister, — " but Captain Jackson and Mr. 
 Peyton are Southerners, you know, and there 's 
 no telling what a fiery temper will lead to." 
 
 " But it 's Mr. Gordon that 's — what did 
 the letter say?" 
 
120 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 " Why, it spoke of him as being ill." 
 
 " Martha, I don't believe he 's sick. Mr. 
 Peyton would have said it in as many words. 
 He 's been hurt. Something has happened." 
 
 The sisters gazed upon each other in alarm. 
 While all the undercurrents of life did not 
 reveal themselves, yet they had seen enough, 
 as the young men came and went, to convince 
 them that a war of passions was waging be- 
 neath the smooth exterior. 
 
 " The temptations are so great, — this is 
 such a wicked world ! " 
 
 " Why, Martha, you don't think they 've 
 been fighting over cards or money?" The 
 elder sister was skeptical on the subject. 
 " They 're all as generous and large-hearted 
 as anybody in the town." 
 
 " I think, Mary, that Captain Jackson loves 
 money, and as like as not he gambles for it. 
 There have been times when he was poor as 
 poverty. We've heard Mr. Gordon say so. 
 I have no faith in him. And did you ever 
 see such a change in a man these past four 
 days? He has something on his mind. 
 Don't you think it queer that he should leave 
 just when we hear that Mr. Gordon is — is 
 hurt?" 
 
 Mary was reflecting upon the matter. 
 
BOBBEBY AND MUBDEB 121 
 
 " I 'm glad that Captain Jackson goes back 
 to war. What a boyish man he is, with his 
 puzzling contradictions, — so much good in 
 him, and so much bad, I fear ; but there 's a 
 fascination about the captain, a something 
 that makes me hope for the best, — possibili- 
 ties, I suppose we 'd call it." 
 
 The sisters walked a few steps before the 
 conversation was continued. 
 
 " Martha, you were always a little prudish, 
 and much too stiff and formal. Gentlemen 
 would pay you a great deal more attention if 
 you did n't hold them at arm's length all the 
 time." 
 
 This was good-natured banter. 
 
 " I fear there 's been a fracas, and Mr. 
 Gordon is severely injured." 
 
 The tone of the speaker was positive. 
 
 "I can't tell you how I feel, or what I 
 see ; " a great shadow overcast the girl's face, 
 and then lifted as she continued, " but I have 
 faith, — I have faith." 
 
 It was one of those unmapped, inexplicable 
 experiences which come to keen-sighted, 
 highly sensitive natures. 
 
 They now entered the home. 
 
 Jackson returned to New York, but he 
 was not seen in public for several days, his 
 
122 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 whereabouts being unknown to friend or foe. 
 It was between two and three weeks after 
 the duel that he made his reappearance and 
 announced a speedy return to the army. 
 
 During this time Gordon had been nursed 
 by Peyton and a faithful serving-man, so that 
 the danger passed, and he was once again 
 able to meet friends and share good fellow- 
 ship. But his lips were closed upon the sub- 
 ject of his wound. 
 
 " Peyton," he remarked one day, " it 's 
 worth such an incident in order to give a 
 man the chance to fathom the depths of your 
 nature. There 's a passage somewhere in the 
 Bible — I 've been trying to recall it for two 
 weeks — that fits your case exactly. It runs 
 like this : ' A friend sticketh closer than a 
 brother.' I shall ask Mr. Beecher to preach 
 from that text the next time I see him." 
 
 " Ah, Gordon, I don't know your story, but 
 you 're no more ' Mystery Gordon ' to me. I 
 don't care where you were born, or who were 
 your father and mother, or what drove you 
 to these parts, but I know you. I thought 
 I 'd learned something about friendship dur- 
 ing the years that we 've clung together, but 
 Lord, man, it 's these weeks that 's opened my 
 eyes, and made me heart-rich." 
 
BOBBERY AND MUBDEB 123 
 
 They were sitting together in the twilight, 
 a cool breeze from the bay fanning their faces. 
 
 " I intended to throw away my fire, Pey- 
 ton," — he was talking about the duel, — 
 " then I was suddenly taken with the fancy 
 to clip off the tip of Jackson's right ear. Did 
 you notice any blood on the man ? " 
 
 " Yes, I saw him cover his ear with a be- 
 spotted handkerchief. But he must have 
 had it dressed at once, and it must have been 
 a very slight wound, for he was all right 
 when he reached Fairfield. Little Davie's 
 account of his visit was graphic. If the ear 
 had been seriously cropped, he 'd have dis- 
 covered it, and reported the matter." 
 
 " It was downright hatred that drove the 
 man to pick a quarrel with me." 
 
 " I heard to-day that Captain Jackson had 
 started for the Southwest. The girls told me 
 in Fairfield Saturday that he had given up 
 his law office and reentered the service. But 
 it 's too good to believe." 
 
 Peyton had made a hasty trip to the shore 
 town the previous week in order to re-stock 
 their wardrobe. 
 
 " Well, I still repeat what I 've said several 
 times, — there 's good in the scoundrel, spite 
 of all the bad; but, Peyton, he's the very 
 
124 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 devil when drinking freely or wild with pas- 
 sion. There 's no telling what crimes the lad 
 would commit under provocation." 
 
 " That 's true ; and he intended to kill you. 
 It 's a wonder that he did n't. Gordon, I 
 shall not believe he 's gone South until I get 
 some definite official statement." 
 
 "I think we are rid of him, thank heaven ! " 
 
 The young gentlemen had pleasant rooms 
 on the cool side of the tavern ; they were 
 now enjoying days of delightful comradeship, 
 for Gordon was rapidly winning back his 
 strength in anticipation of an early return to 
 Fairfield. 
 
 Although commerce suffered a paralysis 
 during the years of war between America 
 and Great Britain, and Gordon's capital was 
 invested in shipping so that it brought him 
 nothing, yet he never lacked funds. This 
 was another mystery that caused remark on 
 the part of Jackson and his cronies. How was 
 he supplied with cash, unless through some 
 dealings with friends and patrons abroad ? 
 
 The captain had found it convenient to 
 borrow large sums in the days of their inti- 
 mate association, and Gordon was one of the 
 men that he had often drained in a cosy game 
 of cards. 
 
BOBBEBY AND MUBDEB 125 
 
 There are people who feel that they are 
 not on terms of intimacy with friends unless 
 every secret is disclosed to them. There are 
 other people who care naught for the things 
 which are purely private or personal. Friend- 
 ship is a relation too sacred for them- to vex 
 and belittle it with curiosity, trivial thoughts, 
 indifferent personalities. It is the real man, 
 apart from the accidents of station or the 
 pettiness of conventionality, that holds one 
 in the strong, enduring bonds of a noble 
 affection. 
 
 So Peyton did not discuss the money affairs 
 of his friend; and he never doubted that 
 Gordon came honestly by his funds. He had 
 such confidence in him that he knew the man 
 would tell what seemed best in respect to 
 business, family, past, future, life, or death. 
 It was not for him to stay in the court of the 
 strangers when he was led into the soul's 
 Holy of Holies. 
 
 During Gordon's recovery from his wound, 
 a sum of money was brought to his room. 
 Peyton did not see the agent through whose 
 hands it came, and he made no inquiries. 
 His friend mentioned the fact, and asked 
 him to use the money freely in their daily 
 expenses. 
 
126 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 " I wish you 'd carry a part of this cash 
 with you," said Gordon one day. " I don't 
 like to leave so large an amount lying loose 
 about the room. It may prove a temptation 
 to some poor sinner." 
 
 " Well, as I 'm settling the bills, I '11 take 
 what I think is necessary, and leave the rest 
 to try the soul of the man who happens to 
 come across it." 
 
 The City Hotel was a popular hostelry, 
 the scene of many a revel, a centre for the 
 bucks of the city. As the times were rest- 
 less, and crime rioted in various sections of 
 the land, men of every stamp and character 
 frequented such a well-known public house. 
 
 " I think we 're among honest people," — 
 Gordon was bidding Peyton good-night, — 
 " but I shall be glad to find myself in 
 Knapp's tavern again, and hear the genial 
 postmaster remark upon the letters which he 
 distributes with such grace." 
 
 They both smiled. 
 
 " We '11 go on Captain Burr's sloop day 
 after to-morrow, if the doctor says the word." 
 
 So the young men separated, Gordon's 
 servant putting him to bed, and making him 
 comfortable for the night. 
 
 The hotel being a noisy place, the early 
 
BOBBERY AND MUBDEB 127 
 
 morning hours brought the only quiet of day 
 or night. 
 
 A crowd of roystering blades were singing 
 their ribald songs and filling the house with 
 their unrestrained revelry. 
 
 Gordon faced the wakeful hours, turning 
 restlessly from side to side in his bed, heap- 
 ing gentlemanly maledictions upon the care- 
 less, jovial crowd below. 
 
 Above the din of the carousal, he suddenly 
 detected low voices. Were they a company 
 of acquaintances, and had some of them fool- 
 ishly come to play a trick upon him ? 
 
 The thought flitted through his brain. 
 
 A moment elapsed, and Gordon was certain 
 that he heard footsteps in the dark. Rais- 
 ing himself in bed, he listened with acute 
 attention. 
 
 " Who 's there, and what 's wanted ? " 
 
 The voice rang clear and strong through 
 the chamber. The noise of continued jollity 
 fell upon his ears. 
 
 It occurred to him that possibly a servant 
 had detected the money, which he was accus- 
 tomed to place in the middle drawer of the 
 old bureau nigh the head of his bed. Look- 
 ing that way, he felt rather than saw the 
 form of a man. 
 
128 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 Gordon was not in a condition to wrestle 
 with burglars ; yet, could he lie there feebly, 
 nervelessly, and see a man rob him ? 
 
 Springing from his bed, he made a dash in 
 the dark, and grappled with the shadowy 
 unknown. It was an unequal match from 
 the beginning, and Gordon knew it, but he 
 concentrated every energy, and threw the 
 man to the floor. Had it been a single- 
 handed tussle, he might have come off victor ; 
 but in the struggle Gordon was flung against 
 a second intruder, and the three men now 
 clinched, and fought like tigers. 
 
 " This is folly," hoarsely muttered a thick 
 voice ; " finish the fellow." 
 
 Gordon turned upon the speaker, and hit 
 him a fell blow in the face, but the partner 
 stabbed him twice in the breast, and the fight 
 was ended. 
 
 The unconscious victim lay in a little pool 
 of blood by his bedside while the two men 
 deliberately lighted a candle, searched the bu- 
 reau, pocketed the bills and the coins, — then 
 extinguishing the light, they passed through 
 the door into the hall, one of them giving 
 the body an ugly kick, and invoking fiendish 
 curses upon the prostrate man. 
 
 The noise of revelry continued. 
 
BOBBERY AND MUBDEB 129 
 
 Ten minutes later, a blood-stained, disfig- 
 ured, half-clad man suddenly interrupted the 
 festivities on the first floor. 
 
 " Will you riot here while murderers and 
 cut-throats are raiding the place ? " It was 
 Peyton. " Lend a hand, some of you men. 
 Bring lights." 
 
 Snatching a silver candlestick from one of 
 the tables, he ran up the stairs, followed by a 
 score of sobered, frightened men. 
 
 Entering Gordon's room, they stumbled 
 against his limp form. 
 
 " Kun for a doctor, will you ? " Discover- 
 ing in the crowd some of his acquaintances, 
 Peyton was addressing them. " Arouse the 
 watch. Here *s foul crime, — robbery and 
 murder." 
 
 It was a night of wild excitement. Lights 
 soon appeared in every room. Doctors, 
 watchmen, servants, guests — men, women, 
 children — were running hither and thither 
 in vain confab and activity. Half a dozen 
 rooms had been entered and robbed. Two 
 men, Peyton and Gordon, braving the intrud- 
 ers, had fought with might and main. Pey- 
 ton, driving the thieves from his room, had 
 given the alarm, but Gordon was still insen- 
 sible, the extent of his injuries undetermined. 
 
130 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 It was a ghastly sight, — the poor victim 
 with torn, bedabbled garment, matted hair, 
 crimsoned face, lying in the midst of the 
 dark, tell-tale pool ; sightless, voiceless, await- 
 ing the return of life or the break of death ! 
 
 What strange creatures are men, that they 
 will dare to play fast and loose with human 
 destiny, — that they will even viciously, defi- 
 antly assume the prerogative of God, and say 
 whether it shall be life or death ! 
 
 When Gordon opened his eyes, it was to 
 see the careworn, distraught face of Peyton 
 bending over him, and Doctor Hosack sitting 
 close by his side. 
 
 " Thank God!" There was a depth, a 
 sweetness of fervor in the friend's voice most 
 grateful to the sufferer. 
 
 "I — I " — Gordon hesitated like one col- 
 lecting his wandering thoughts ; there was a 
 swift flash of intelligence. " I 've been 
 robbed. Did you catch them ? " 
 
 Peyton was overjoyed, for they feared he 
 would never speak again. There had been 
 a great loss of blood, and the shock to his 
 nervous system was a thing yet to be reckoned. 
 
 " No, my friend," — the word " friend " 
 had become strangely dear to the two young 
 fellows, — " we did n't catch them. They 've 
 
ROBBERY AND MURDER 131 
 
 gone, and they 've carried away your money, 
 but what care we so long as you stay ? " 
 
 Did ever a man freight simple language 
 with stores upon stores of love, the words, 
 " what care we so long as you stay," were 
 burdened to the limits by Peyton. 
 
 Little more was said. The happy task of 
 winning Gordon back to life again now filled 
 the days. 
 
CHAPTER XIII 
 
 " THAT FLAG SHALL NEVER COME DOWN 
 WHILE I AM ALIVE" 
 
 Jackson's first letter to Mary was written 
 the day that he purported to start for the 
 Southwest. Passionate, disconnected, urgent, 
 it betrayed a youth close upon the borders of 
 distraction, blowing hot and cold with hopes 
 and fears. 
 
 Mary read parts of it, and then refolding 
 the paper, thrust it away. 
 
 " Hurrah, hurrah ! " shouted little Davie 
 several days later ; " what do you think I 've 
 got?" 
 
 He was capering through the yard, making 
 a zigzag course toward his sisters, who had 
 sought the shelter of the back porch. 
 
 " It 's a real letter, and it 's to me. See 
 the writing there ? " pointing to the address 
 inscribed with full, flowing hand. " I know 
 who wrote it," skipping away from Mary, 
 who reached for the letter that she might 
 break the seal and read it to the child. 
 
THAT FLAG SHALL NEVEB COME DOWN 133 
 
 It was his first letter, — one of the events 
 in his little life. 
 
 " That 's Peyton's handwriting. Don't I 
 know it ? Now, we '11 have all the news." 
 
 A few more antics, and the boy gave the 
 packet to Mary, who quickly tore the neat 
 folds apart. 
 
 " My dear Davie," — so it began, — " you 
 may thank your stars that we 're alive to tell 
 the tale. We expected to go to Fairfield last 
 week ; but one night some robbers made a raid 
 on the City Hotel, where we are staying, and 
 they gave Mr. Gordon and me a very lively 
 time. There were two of them, and perhaps 
 three. They broke into Gordon's room first, 
 and while they were mousing round to find 
 his money, he jumped up and pitched into 
 them. He 's been sick, you know, so that he 
 was n't fit to attack a flea, but he made the 
 robbers jump for a few seconds ; one of them 
 stabbed him twice, and knocked him sense- 
 less, and then they found the money, and 
 went into several other rooms. There was 
 a crowd of noisy fellows raising a terrible 
 racket downstairs, so folks did n't hear what 
 was going on above them. When the rob- 
 bers came to my room, I was asleep, but I 
 heard them fumbling in the dark, so I shot 
 
134 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 at one of them, and then for a minute we 
 chased each other around the table, the 
 strangers getting as good as they sent every 
 time. Finally they ran out of the room, 
 and I ran downstairs and called for help 
 and lights. The robbers, of course, escaped. 
 When I found my way to Gordon's room, he 
 was lying on the floor, still as death. We 
 put him on the bed, sent for Doctor Hosack, 
 and worked over him for a couple of hours, 
 and then he came back to life, brave as you 
 please, asking, the first thing, if we 'd caught 
 the scamps. Gordon is doing very well ; as 
 well as could be expected. We 're going to 
 take the first sloop that sails for Fairfield ; 
 so look out for us. It is n't too late for 
 swimming and fishing and hunting, is it ? " 
 
 Davie listened with relish, the typical boy's 
 love of an adventure glowing in his face. 
 
 "Wouldn't I like to have been there?" 
 was his first remark. " I 'd have tripped the 
 devils, and " — 
 
 " Why, Davie, Davie, who taught you to 
 say such bad words?" exclaimed Martha, 
 with horror. 
 
 " Why, that 's what Gordon and Peyton 
 both called the sly dog that robbed the 
 tavern more 'n a year ago." 
 
THAT FLAG SHALL NEVER COME DOWN 135 
 
 " How thankful I am that it 's no worse. 
 Poor man ! Mr. Gordon is having such a 
 time ! " Mary spoke with feeling. 
 
 " But we '11 see them soon," exclaimed 
 Davie, every motion expressing happy antici- 
 pation. " We '11 have a picnic for them, girls; 
 and we '11 stuff Mr. Gordon with all the good 
 things Dinah can make, and I '11 row him in 
 a boat so he can enjoy the sea air ; and you 
 girls can fuss over him, and he '11 get strong 
 again." 
 
 Away flew Davie to tell the news, while 
 the sisters lingered on the back porch. 
 
 " Is there some inexplicable fatality con- 
 nected with our friends?" Mary cast a 
 questioning glance toward Martha. 
 
 " Sometimes life gets sadly jangled." This 
 was the sister's answer. " I have never 
 doubted the integrity of Mr. Gordon and 
 Mr. Peyton. I think they are manly, gallant 
 gentlemen ; but there 's an atmosphere of 
 secrecy about them that disturbs me, — they 
 say so little about their past, they seem so 
 content to stay in this quiet town, they get 
 into such curious adventures, they appear so 
 different from other young people that we 
 know." 
 
 " Well, Martha, I thought you approved of 
 
136 FRIEND OB FOE 
 
 reserve. As for their spending a few months 
 in Fairfield, I take it as a great compliment 
 to the town and " — waiting a moment — 
 " to — to us " — spoken with infinite charm. 
 " They do seem to have more than their share 
 of adventures, but that makes them all the 
 more attractive. I 'm like Davie. So long 
 as no real harm is done, I say the more spice 
 of adventure put into life, the better. It 
 saves us from stagnation." 
 
 " Mary, do you suppose that Jackson is 
 the evil spirit which haunts Mr. Gordon ? 
 I ve thought of it." 
 
 There was a flush on the sister's face as 
 she replied. Jackson's letter was hidden 
 away in a secret place, unanswered, and not 
 to be answered; yet Mary could not think 
 that a young man revealing so many good 
 qualities, patriotic to the heart's core, hand- 
 some and soldierly in his bearing, inheriting 
 various traditions of a religious Scotch ances- 
 try, could be a knave and a criminal. 
 
 " Martha, do be charitable to Captain 
 Jackson. I'm afraid Davie has prejudiced 
 
 you." 
 
 When Gordon and Peyton came back to 
 Fairfield, the patriotic citizens of the place 
 were equipped for war. Fort Union had 
 
THAT FLAG SHALL NEVER COME DOWN 137 
 
 been garrisoned, Battery Point prepared for 
 defense, and the town company of infantry 
 well drilled in the evolutions of the battlefield. 
 
 " We form ourselves into a voluntary asso- 
 ciation, and pledge our lives, our property, 
 and sacred honor to defend our rights, privi- 
 leges, and independence," said these men. 
 
 Numerous public meetings fostered enthu- 
 siasm, " the virtuous females of Mill River " 
 had made military clothes for the local sol- 
 diery, and a spirit of fight was manifest on 
 various occasions. 
 
 " We view with indignation the many out- 
 rages committed by Great Britain against our 
 country," — quoting from the resolutions 
 adopted by the Democrats of the village. 
 " We view with contempt their pretended 
 right to blockade our coast." " We view 
 with abhorrence their repeated pretensions of 
 friendship." 
 
 During these days Gordon remained on 
 friendly terms with his Fairfield acquaint- 
 ances, and soon regained his wonted strength, 
 venturing a ride to Stonington on the eighth 
 of the month. 
 
 In obedience to Admiral Cochrane' s orders 
 to " destroy the coast towns and ravage the 
 country," Commodore Hardy appeared off 
 
138 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 the harbor with .the Ramillies, the Pactolus, 
 the bomb-ship Terror, and the brig Dispatch. 
 Having anchored his small squadron two 
 miles away, at four o'clock in the afternoon 
 of August ninth, he sent a flag to the town 
 authorities, saying : " Not wishing to destroy 
 the unoffending inhabitants residing in the 
 town of Stonington, one hour is granted 
 them from the receipt of this to remove out 
 of the town." 
 
 When the citizens asked if a flag would be 
 received from them, an answer was given in 
 the negative, so the stout-hearted people sent 
 this characteristic reply : — 
 
 u We shall defend the place to the last 
 extremity. Should it be destroyed, we will 
 perish in the ruins." 
 
 The ring of defiance resounded in the 
 words; the dreaded day of conflict had 
 dawned. 
 
 Consternation and excitement prevailed on 
 every side. Women, children, the aged, and 
 the infirm were hurried into the back country, 
 silver and keepsakes thrown into carts and 
 dragged beyond the danger line. Men being 
 summoned to resist the enemy, a small band 
 of militia was stationed on the point of the 
 peninsula to watch for the approach of the 
 
THAT FLAG SHALL NEVER COME DOWN 139 
 
 British, — swift and humble preparation for 
 the fight. 
 
 At eight o'clock the bomb-ship began to 
 throw shells into the village. 
 
 " Now, this is something worth seeing/' 
 remarked Peyton. " I 'm sorry for the towns- 
 folk, but here's a taste of war evidently 
 planned for our special benefit." 
 
 The young gentlemen had stabled their 
 horses in a barn on the edge of the village, 
 and hurried down to the centre of action. 
 
 As night came on, the shells continued to 
 fly over the town, and rockets were hurled 
 from the launches. Every able-bodied man 
 on shore was alert putting out the fires that 
 were started in different parts of the town, 
 or running hither and thither in the effort to 
 do something for the preservation of property 
 and the defense of the place. 
 
 " Look at that shell as it sails gracefully 
 through the air! And, by Jove, there's a 
 rocket coming our way." Gordon was speak- 
 ing, as they emerged from the tavern where 
 they had been taking a hasty supper. " Let 's 
 go down to where Lieutenant Hough and his 
 men are stationed." 
 
 At midnight the firing ceased. There had 
 been no loss of life, and the injury done to 
 
140 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 buildings was slight. Meanwhile, messengers 
 informed General Cushing, the United States 
 commander of the district, and he communi- 
 cated with General Williams, the commander 
 of militia, so that a regiment was ordered to 
 Stonington. 
 
 It was on the way to the extreme point of 
 the peninsula that Gordon and Peyton over- 
 took a bold company of men dragging the 
 only ordnance of the place down to the spot 
 where it might avail in case the enemy at- 
 tempted a landing. There were two eighteen, 
 one six, and one four pound cannon. Breast- 
 works were constructed, and here by the 
 streaming light of the rockets the militia 
 observed the approach of the British. Re- 
 serving their fire until the barges and a 
 launch drew nigh the southeast point, they 
 belched forth with startling effect, shattering 
 the enemy's vessels so that they retreated to 
 the larger ships of war. 
 
 Through the night there was ceaseless vigi- 
 lance and activity, Gordon and Peyton pass- 
 ing up and down the streets and roads with 
 other restless watchers, anxious for the coming 
 of the dawn, that it might bring uncertainty 
 to an end. Little sleep was there in Stoning- 
 ton that night, for the prospects were that the 
 
THAT FLAG SHALL NEVER COME DOWN 141 
 
 coming day would witness a desperate fight, 
 and possibly the annihilation of the town. 
 
 The whaling and sealing business of Ston- 
 ington had been large in bygone days, so 
 that the town was well-nigh ruined by the 
 war. For its many ships were useless, while 
 its citizens, formerly engaged in various mari- 
 time ventures, eked out a poor living. 
 
 " You have a little money invested in some 
 of these vessels, have you not ? " inquired 
 Peyton, pointing in the direction of the 
 shadowy merchant fleet lying along the 
 nearer shore. 
 
 " Yes," was Gordon's answer. " I 'm here 
 to see what becomes of my investment. This 
 is one of the incidents in commercial life." 
 
 " You take it philosophically." 
 
 " A man is a fool to take it any other way. 
 There are ups and downs for all of us." 
 
 Toward morning the two men snatched a 
 little sleep, but they were aroused at daylight 
 when the Pactolus and the Dispatch made 
 their way nearer the village. 
 
 The frigate grounded, and was useless for 
 the fight which ensued. When the Terror 
 opened fire, it grew so hot that the troops did 
 not assemble in the village ; but the majority 
 of the shells passed over the houses and 
 struck where little damage resulted. 
 
142 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 A little after six o'clock, Captain Holmes, 
 an expert gunner, took charge of the eighteen 
 pounder in the battery on the point. The 
 gun was double shotted with solid round 
 balls, and when the Dispatch drew near 
 enough to present a fair mark, the venerable 
 soldier fired a shot which hit the brig in 
 the hull. For an hour there was the swift 
 interchange of war, but the ammunition of 
 Captain Holmes was exhausted, and he was 
 obliged to withdraw, spiking his gun so that 
 it could not be turned on the town by the 
 enemy. 
 
 " The village is defenseless now," exclaimed 
 Peyton, as he observed the change in affairs. 
 
 " Did you hear what Holmes said when 
 one of the men at the battery proposed a 
 surrender ? It 's worth remembering.' ' 
 
 "What was it?" 
 
 The two were standing on the edge of the 
 town a few rods from the militia. 
 
 " ' No,' spoken with indignation, ' that flag 
 shall never come down while I am alive ! ' " 
 
 " That sounds like '76," responded Peyton. 
 
 " Ah, is not that powder, — some fresh 
 kegs?" 
 
 " And they are dragging the cannon to the 
 blacksmith shop to drill the spike out." 
 
THAT FLAG SHALL NEVER COME DOWN 143 
 
 This was about nine o'clock. A little later 
 the redoubt on the point opened fire again. 
 
 " I tell you/' exclaimed Peyton excitedly, 
 " we 're hitting the brig, and she '11 haul off 
 soon to safer quarters." 
 
 Throngs of observers stood watching the 
 effect of the eighteen pounder as her shots 
 struck the Dispatch. 
 
 " There she goes. She 's slipping her 
 cables. Hurrah ! Hurrah ! " 
 
 The Terror continued shelling the town, 
 although it was a waste of ammunition. 
 
 Observing that the fight wavered in the 
 balance, the militia gathered, and order was 
 restored, a new spirit of courage showing 
 itself in the return of many people to their 
 homes. During the afternoon, a flag was sent 
 to Commodore Hardy, asking him the fate of 
 the town. Being assured that no torpedoes 
 had been fitted out from Stonington, he 
 agreed to cease hostilities on condition that 
 the wife of James Stewart, a British Consul, 
 was sent on board. But General Isham, com- 
 manding the American forces, replied that he 
 was not able to comply with the demand, so 
 another night of terror and uncertainty passed. 
 
 " The fracas drags along a slow length," 
 remarked Gordon on the evening of the 
 
144 FRIEND OB FOE 
 
 second day. " Another twenty-four hours of 
 suspense will bring on a fever, or drive the 
 women and children mad." 
 
 " But you see that our forces are gathering 
 in larger numbers all the time, so that we can 
 prevent a landing. If the shells and rockets 
 don't bring on a conflagration, we 're safe." 
 
 When the night shut down, there was a 
 stillness that alarmed the citizens almost as 
 much as the noise of roaring cannon and 
 bursting shells. The young men watched 
 with their acquaintances a part of the time, 
 and slept a disturbed sleep through the rest 
 of the night. 
 
 " By heavens ! " exclaimed Peyton, " they 've 
 made a fresh start." 
 
 The Terror was throwing shells at sunrise, 
 and later the Ramillies and the Pactolus 
 opened fire. 
 
 " What a spiteful broadside." It was 
 twice repeated. " Is it a parting salute ? " 
 
 " Yes," answered Gordon. " They are 
 withdrawing." 
 
 Cheers rent the air. 
 
 It was past noon when the Terror ceased 
 her bombardment, and about four o'clock the 
 enemy sailed away toward Fisher's Island. 
 
 " Come, we will take a note of the enemy's 
 
THAT FLAG SHALL NEVER COME DOWN 145 
 
 ravages," observed Peyton, as a little knot of 
 young men passed down the main street of 
 the town, and marked the signs of desolation. 
 
 The British had thrown more than three 
 hundred shells and fire carcasses, more than 
 fifty tons of metal being used by them in the 
 bombardment ; but not a person was killed, 
 and only half a dozen people wounded. Some 
 twenty buildings had caught fire, but the 
 faithful watch and work of the volunteer 
 patrol succeeded in extinguishing the flames. 
 Forty houses and shops, or other structures, 
 were hit, but only three or four of them seri- 
 ously injured. 
 
 " Well, this is the most astonishing thing 
 in all the history of warfare," exclaimed Pey- 
 ton, after they had inspected the town and 
 heard the reports of damages. " A lively 
 bombardment on the part of three or four 
 ships, a strong force of marines to back up 
 the play of their artillery, and a defenseless 
 town at their mercy ; yet such a rally of 
 citizens and militia in resistance, such bravery 
 and shrewdness in the management of the 
 brief campaign, that not a serious casualty is 
 recorded. Why, if Connecticut has taken no 
 other part in the war, she has shown a spirit 
 and achieved a victory here that is worth all 
 honor." 
 
146 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 Gordon nodded an assent. 
 
 "And the old flag remains nailed to the 
 stick," continued Peyton, yielding to an im- 
 pulse prompting him to huzza. " They say 
 there are nine holes in it, but in spite of its 
 riddled condition, it still holds together and 
 flaunts its challenge to the enemy." 
 
 It was a futile and discouraging action for 
 the British. They gained nothing, and re- 
 port said their losses were twenty-one killed 
 and fifty wounded. A hostile squadron had 
 been repulsed by undisciplined volunteers 
 with meagre equipment, aided in the latter 
 part of the conflict by a few helpers from 
 the neighboring troops. 
 
 " Gordon," remarked Peyton, " you look 
 unhappy. Did any shipping catch fire ? " 
 
 " No, Peyton, it is n't the loss of ships or 
 trade that breaks my heart. It 's war, vain, 
 heartless, shameful war, — mother against 
 daughter, or daughter against mother. And 
 where is the sense or the justice of it ? " The 
 men stood lost in thought. 
 
 As they retraced their steps through the 
 shore towns, the words recurred to them 
 again and again — " mother against daughter, 
 daughter against mother. And where is the 
 sense or the justice of it ? " 
 
CHAPTER XIV 
 
 A FORCED VISIT TO THE RAMILLIES 
 
 The August days passed all too quickly. 
 Neither of the young men was in a mood for 
 work, and Gordon's accident argued another 
 reason for his putting off a return to the 
 office of Mr. Sherman. 
 
 War and politics continued to be the topics 
 uppermost in the minds of the people, for 
 the purpose of the British to raid the shore 
 towns had aroused all the martial instincts 
 of the rugged New Englander, although the 
 peace party pressed the necessity for an end 
 to hostilities as never before. 
 
 There were petty fights off the Connecticut 
 shores day after day, reminding the older 
 inhabitants of the whaleboat warfare carried 
 on with a high hand during the Revolution. 
 The enemy sailed up and down the waters 
 with the air of bullies who boastfully strut in 
 public places. 
 
 A race between American and English 
 boats became a common event, many thrilling 
 
148 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 adventures being related by the men whose 
 enterprises urged them to brave all perils of 
 assault or capture. 
 
 Sailing was one of the sports that brought 
 fresh color to Gordon's cheeks. A good sea- 
 man, loving the salt water, he knew how to 
 manage his craft with skill. So the men 
 spent many days in skirting the shore, tak- 
 ing with them as inseparable comrade, little 
 Davie. 
 
 During these happy excursions they had 
 been fortunate in evading the enemy, a single 
 pursuit on the part of the British breaking 
 the even tenor of their way. Gordon and 
 Peyton did not wish to fall into the clutches 
 of Commodore Hardy, for stories were rife 
 concerning the fresh impressment of men 
 into the royal service. Yet the pleasure of 
 sailing was too great for them to pay much 
 heed to any risks incurred. 
 
 " I have half a mind to return home and 
 enlist in the army," remarked Peyton. 
 
 They had been reading the account of 
 Admiral Cockrane at Washington. It was 
 familiar ground to the young man, many 
 friends and relatives being among the suf- 
 ferers; the narrative aroused both indigna- 
 tion and resentment. 
 
A FORCED VISIT TO THE BAMILLIES 149 
 
 " It was a dastardly act," exclaimed Mary. 
 " I hate men that engage in such a wanton 
 destruction of property." 
 
 " That is the policy which shapes their 
 course now," answered Peyton. " The in- 
 crease of their fleet on this side of the water 
 means a war scourge all along the shore. 
 They think that ravaging our coast will 
 bring us to terms." 
 
 " I 'm for an honorable peace," — there 
 was a noble earnestness in the manner of 
 Gordon, — " and I believe the sentiment 
 prevails in England. War is always cruel. 
 This entire Atlantic line lies at the mercy of 
 the foe ; but I dare predict that the horrors 
 which you suggest will not be widespread." 
 
 " You are sanguine, my friend ; or do 
 you speak with authority ? " quizzically ex- 
 pressed by Peyton. "I detect no signs of 
 settlement." 
 
 " It is always darkest before day," con- 
 tinued Gordon. " You don't think Commo- 
 dore Hardy has been harsh or mean in his 
 treatment of the shore people, do you ? " 
 
 " Speaking his name reminds me that I 
 have intended to ask Mr. David Hardy con- 
 cerning his forbears. The commodore may 
 be a relation of these young ladies." 
 
150 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 " Curious that it never occurred to us," 
 answered Mary. " But our family has lived 
 in this town so many generations that it 
 would be necessary to go back a long way to 
 discover kinship ties with this officer of the 
 royal navy." 
 
 Little Davie was thinking about Commo- 
 dore Hardy on the next day when the gen- 
 tlemen skimmed across the sound to Long 
 Island. 
 
 " I 'd like to see the Kamillies." He had 
 questioned Gordon a score of times in respect 
 to the flagship and the commander of the 
 fleet. 
 
 It was sheer good nature that prompted 
 the two men to venture along the coast until 
 they sighted the ship by the help of their 
 powerful glass. 
 
 Such curiosity often passed unnoted, but 
 in this case the brig Dispatch turned her 
 attention to the pleasure-seekers, and bore 
 down upon the sloop with evident purpose of 
 investigation. The British were suspicious 
 of every strange-acting craft, still fearing the 
 hideous execution of the submarine mechan- 
 ism devised by American ingenuity. 
 
 There was nothing in the aspect of Gor- 
 don's pleasure boat to excite the hostility of 
 
A FORCED VISIT TO THE BAMILLIES 151 
 
 the British, but it became evident that the 
 brig intended to overhaul the stranger. Every 
 bit of canvas on each craft was made to do 
 full duty. There was a spanking breeze, 
 and the full-bellied sails caught the spirit of 
 the race. 
 
 Gordon and Peyton bent to their sailor 
 tasks like old salts, while Davie watched the 
 sport with intense delight. What is more 
 exhilarating than a race under such circum- 
 stances ? 
 
 Gordon's aim was to dart into some of the 
 friendly bays or inlets that fret the Connecti- 
 cut shore, and thus elude their pursuers, but 
 the right place did not show itself, and the 
 brig gained steadily upon them. 
 
 On they swept, like huge creatures of a 
 mythical age, ploughing the sea in pride, 
 driving the yielding waters before them. 
 Every nerve was stretched, every device em- 
 ployed, while the hunter drew nearer and 
 nearer his prey. 
 
 There was a familiar, hopeful turn of jut- 
 ting headland in the distance. Could they 
 make the little passage framed by jagged 
 rocks, and press into the small haven beyond, 
 or must they give over the race and submit 
 humbly to captivity ? 
 
152 FRIEND OB FOE 
 
 The boom of a gun, a white puff of smoke, 
 the splintering of a mast, and the question 
 was settled. 
 
 " It 's a vain flight/' said Gordon coolly. 
 
 Davie watched each movement of the foe 
 with speechless fascination. As the sloop 
 lay to, and the launch from the brig cut 
 through the brine, the gentlemen quietly 
 awaited the coming of their captors. 
 
 " They 're going to take us on to the brig, 
 ain't they ? " It was the first remark of the 
 child since the ball had splintered the mast. 
 
 " I think so, Davie." 
 
 Gordon spoke in a matter-of-fact way. 
 
 " I s'pose they '11 impress us into the navy, 
 won't they ? " 
 
 The men smiled, for the child was small of 
 his age. 
 
 " What under the sun would you do in the 
 navy ? " 
 
 " I 'd kill the tyrants ! " hissed the boy, 
 rage mantling his cheeks. 
 
 Peyton was thinking upon the awkward- 
 ness of their position. It would be apparent 
 to any discerning eye that Gordon and him- 
 self were gentlemen, yet gentlemen had been 
 made to suffer when caught by their British 
 foes. 
 
A FOBCED VISIT TO THE EAMILLIES 153 
 
 When the royal officer boarded the sloop, 
 he was received with deference, and the 
 command to go with him to the Dispatch was 
 courteously obeyed. 
 
 On board the brig the prisoners were 
 treated with respect, while a turn about hav- 
 ing been made, the Ramillies soon hove in 
 sight. They were taking the men to the flag- 
 ship. 
 
 An hour or more passed, during which time 
 Davie observed this new phase of life sud- 
 denly revealed to him, while his companions 
 gravely reflected upon the situation. 
 
 If Commodore Hardy was the man that 
 common report faithfully described, they 
 might look for kind treatment and a possible 
 dismissal on the morrow. If he was to be 
 credited with what his haters said about him, 
 they might expect something disagreeable. 
 
 * I '11 see the Ramillies," whispered Davie 
 to Gordon. 
 
 A launch carried them all to the commo- 
 dore's ship, and he happened to be on deck 
 when they arrived. One after the other 
 climbed into the great warship ; first the 
 captive crew, and then Davie and Peyton. 
 Gordon came up last. 
 
 As Commodore Hardy cast his eyes upon 
 
154 FRIEND OB FOE 
 
 the company, a swift change in the expression 
 of his face was noted, — surprise, amazement. 
 It was a fleeting look, which gave place to 
 his accustomed aspect. 
 
 Davie had faced about that he might see 
 his friends, and it was in his turning that he 
 observed Gordon lift the hand to his face 
 and press the forefinger to his lips. Glanc- 
 ing quickly toward the commodore, Davie 
 detected a responsive flash of intelligence. 
 
 After a searching examination of the pris- 
 oners, Commodore Hardy led Gordon below, 
 while the other members of his party lingered 
 on deck. 
 
 An hour passed, when they returned, and 
 the word was given to make the Americans 
 as comfortable as possible. This was Davie's 
 opportunity to examine, the warship. 
 
 " And what is your name, my little man ? " 
 questioned the commodore, observing the 
 child's interest and fearlessness. 
 
 " David Hardy Randolph, sir." 
 
 " Hardy ! Hardy ! " exclaimed the commo- 
 dore, with curiosity. " How came you by 
 my name ? " 
 
 "It's for my uncle, David Hardy," was 
 the quick reply. "And my grandfather's 
 name was Jeremiah Hardy." 
 
A FORCED VISIT TO THE RAMILLIES 155 
 
 " And how long, pray tell me, have you 
 and your people lived in these parts ? " 
 
 " Oh, ever since Anne Hardy the witch 
 was hung, and Mary says that 's more 'n a 
 hundred and fifty years ago." 
 
 " No chance to claim you for a British sub- 
 ject, then." A smile spread over the speak- 
 er's face. 
 
 " No, sir. I 'm a freeborn American citi- 
 zen." Little Davie swelled with visible pride 
 as he made the reply. 
 
 The next morning Gordon with his two 
 friends and the crew returned to the sloop. 
 
 All day and all night they lay becalmed 
 near the fleet, but on the second morning, 
 catching a favorable breeze, they sped on their 
 homeward way. 
 
 Gordon appeared Sphinx-like. Evidently 
 matters of serious import had been discussed 
 in his private interview with Commodore 
 Hardy. Davie imagined that his friend was 
 in trouble. Watching the play of emotion in 
 the man's face, the great, loving heart of the 
 little child suffered for him. Stately ship, 
 savage guns, obedient marines in their queer 
 uniforms, the order, cleanliness, majesty of 
 the man-of-war, all stamped themselves upon 
 the mind of Davie; but he did not ponder 
 
156 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 over these things, nor picture to himself the 
 delight of telling their adventure to the home 
 folks. Davie was distressed for his good 
 friend. 
 
 After a time he stole quietly to his side, — 
 Gordon was leaning against the shattered 
 mast, eyes fixed in space, — and reaching for 
 his right hand, grasped it with quick, ner- 
 vous grip, confidently keeping hold until the 
 man might deign to notice him. 
 
 There they stood for minutes, man and 
 boy linked into beautiful fraternity, words 
 that might interrupt the flow of sympathy 
 left unsaid. 
 
 There was a delicacy of insight peculiar 
 to the boy ; a maturity of discernment which 
 guided him in perplexing circumstances. For 
 his precocity was not mere smartness ; an 
 element of spiritual shrewdness pertained to 
 it, a wonderful heart knowledge and power. 
 
 Gordon came back from his far-away 
 thoughts and returned the gentle pressure of 
 the boy's hand. Looking down into his 
 young face, the kind man smiled. 
 
 " I know you 're close by my side, Davie." 
 These were Gordon's words of greeting. 
 " You 're a great comfort to me." 
 
 " Shall we tell about it ? " whispered the 
 child. 
 
A FORCED VISIT TO THE RAMILLIES 157 
 
 It had occurred to him that there might 
 be reasons why their adventure should not be 
 bruited abroad, and this was perhaps the 
 greatest sacrifice that a child could make 
 under the circumstances, — to hold his tongue 
 and nurse such a rare secret. 
 
 " We '11 have to tell about it," was the 
 answer. " But we '11 be very wise in our 
 story-telling. Commodore Hardy thought 
 we might be planning some mischief, and 
 when I told him how we liked to sail, and 
 that I had been sick, he let us go. You see 
 he 's a Hardy — has good blood in him — 
 does n't wish to do anybody harm — and will 
 be glad when the war ends." 
 
 Davie knew that Gordon told him the sur- 
 face explanation ; that his interview with 
 Commodore Hardy had to do with other and 
 deeper things than the pleasure sailing up 
 and down the sound ; but this was all that 
 his friend chose to say. Such was the boy's 
 faith in Gordon that he accepted this answer 
 as sufficient, although curiosity was not less 
 imperious in his nature than in the nature of 
 other boys at his age. 
 
 Peyton's perplexity equaled that of his com- 
 rades, it being clear to him that Commodore 
 Hardy and Gordon were old acquaintances, 
 
158 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 and that possibly a more intimate connection 
 existed. The " blue-light " agitation came 
 to his mind. And then there still clung to 
 his friend the mystery which years had not 
 cleared away. 
 
 At the same time Peyton harbored no doubts 
 respecting Gordon's honor and straightfor- 
 wardness. There must be good and sufficient 
 reasons for the secrecy which enveloped the 
 past like a mist clinging to a mountain. 
 
 " I '11 stick to him through thick and thin. 
 I '11 never distrust him, even when the dark- 
 ness is blacker than the murkiest, stormiest 
 night." 
 
 This was the conclusion which Peyton 
 reached as he figured over the knotty pro- 
 blems which harassed him and they entered 
 Black Rock Harbor. 
 
CHAPTER XV 
 
 LAUNCHING INTO THE DEEP 
 
 The absence of Davie and the young 
 gentlemen was a time of great distress in the 
 Hardy family. Capture and impressment by 
 the British — the fate to which so many men 
 had been consigned — stared the home people 
 in the face. 
 
 It was a festive day, therefore, when Davie 
 once again bestirred himself in familiar places 
 and gave way to the wild joy of his soul. 
 The adventure concerned all the townsfolk, 
 so that the story was told and retold until it 
 grew threadbare. But never a word compro- 
 mised Gordon. 
 
 The young men entered Mr. Sherman's 
 office in September ; it was merely a nominal 
 service which they performed. Recent events 
 had turned their thoughts into other channels 
 than law. They read the local papers and 
 " Niles's Register " with great care; they en- 
 joyed long talks with Mr. Sherman on the 
 political outlook ; they posted themselves on 
 
160 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 every phase of the war; and last but not least, 
 they quoted, sentimental poetry with appre- 
 ciation of its subtler meanings. 
 
 " I'm in a strait betwixt two/' said Peyton. 
 " Shall I go, or shall I stay ? " 
 
 It was a question of joining the army. 
 
 " Well, my friend," — Gordon's manner 
 was judicial, — "I do not wish to be intrusive, 
 but it's my opinion that this war will soon 
 end. Politics has played the deuce with 
 England and America all through the con- 
 flict. The people do not want to fight ; they 
 have nobler ambitions than the achievement 
 of military glory. Is not France an illus- 
 tration and a warning ? The Englishmen 
 on both sides of the sea are men of finer, 
 higher instincts than the big or small Napo- 
 leons of the world. We 've a great destiny, 
 — we Anglo-Saxons, — and mind you, we 're 
 the same people, whether it 's the Union Jack 
 that floats above us or the Stars and Stripes. 
 The war is a gigantic piece of folly — worse 
 than a blunder, it is criminal. We are one 
 race, and our interests common, indivisible." 
 
 As the speaker delivered himself, the elo- 
 quence of sincerity, intense moral conviction, 
 and superb faith in his creed transformed the 
 quiet, reserved man into a veritable prophet 
 of light and hope. 
 
LAUNCHING INTO THE DEEP 161 
 
 " Gordon, it does my heart good to hear 
 such talk. We're so depressed and har- 
 assed, our citizens are so split into factions, 
 our trade has become so demoralized, that all 
 the joy seems gone out of life ; " Peyton 
 halted in his speech, and then continued with 
 brighter spirit, — " barring the joy of love." 
 
 " Strange, is n't it ? " There was a change 
 in Gordon's face, wrought by the magic of 
 Peyton's last words ; " c And now abideth 
 faith, hope, love,' " — the man's eyes glowed 
 with a beautiful light, — Ui but the greatest 
 of these is love.' " 
 
 The gentlemen had walked down to the 
 beach in order that they might signal to the 
 sloop and take a sail in the mellow autumn 
 afternoon. Flinging themselves upon the 
 sand, they continued the conversation. 
 
 " The great mass of people never taste the 
 sweets of real love. Do you recall what 
 David said in his lament over Jonathan ? 
 < Thy love to me was wonderful, passing the 
 love of women.' Why don't we rise to such 
 heights? Love is a spiritual thing, and 
 there 's little else worth naming in life." 
 
 " Peyton, you 've been constantly doing 
 the things that you ought not to have done, 
 and leaving undone the things which you 
 
162 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 ought to have done, but you're quite a 
 lovable fellow," — this was raillery, — " and 
 I sometimes think you are learning several 
 lessons in the great school of the world." 
 
 It had been observed by Gordon that his 
 friend was more pensive than usual these days. 
 The thought of leaving Fairfield might in- 
 duce such a mood ; but there was a better 
 reason for it. 
 
 " It is plainly the teaching of old King 
 David that love between great souls without 
 regard to sex is the very consummation of 
 human experience. What a fight that man 
 would win who sacrificed the lower for the 
 higher love, — love which had the fire of sex 
 in it for love which glowed with the fire of a 
 deathless friendship ? " 
 
 The comrades had launched out into the 
 deeps of thought and feeling. If now they 
 cast the net into the fathomless sea, would 
 their draught break the delicate web of life 
 or yield them untold riches ? 
 
 " Peyton, no man living is more loyal to 
 woman than myself. That sounds boastful, 
 but I have good reason. I reverence her 
 strength and beauty of soul, — her noble, 
 generous, exalted nature. But David was 
 right. There 's a love which passes the love 
 
LAUNCHING INTO THE DEEP 163 
 
 of women. It towers above all earthly pas- 
 sion, for its essence is of the eternal. There 's 
 not a flaw of grossness in it. Wholly unself- 
 ish, such love dreams, suffers, dies, and for- 
 ever lives for the sake of the true heart 
 which inspires it." 
 
 There was the gentle break of rippling 
 waters as the tide flowed in from the farther 
 sea. 
 
 " What fools we are ! " The remark had 
 a brusque flavor. " We live along the edges 
 of experiences that stretch endlessly into 
 realms of happiness, and there we fret and 
 vex ourselves, never pushing into the un- 
 known glorious interiors, sore and weary with 
 our little, narrow life ! " 
 
 " They are two lovely girls," said Gordon 
 irrelevantly. 
 
 " There 's a natural gayety and light- 
 heartedness about Miss Mary. I wonder 
 how Puritanism can flower into such a merry, 
 winsome spirit ? " 
 
 " But, Peyton, that 's all on the surface. 
 Her blithe and cheerful ways conceal infinite 
 treasures." 
 
 " I never saw such unselfish devotion. I 
 don't believe that either sister ever felt a 
 pang of jealousy. And when the younger 
 
164 FBIEND OR FOE 
 
 mothers the elder sister, and gives her quiet, 
 tender rebukes, how graciously they are 
 received." 
 
 " Yet they seem to have little in common 
 on first acquaintance," continued Gordon. 
 " I remember with what fascination I used to 
 watch tjiem the first year of our friendship, — 
 the one a happy offset to the other, — blonde 
 against brunette, mirth against soberness." 
 
 The shouts of Davie and the approach of 
 the sloop summoned the gentlemen to their 
 sport. An exhilarating flight through the 
 restless waters — for the wind was rising, 
 and there were signs of an eastern storm — 
 made it a merry party. They were off Compo 
 Beach when the cloud, no bigger than a 
 man's hand, appeared above the horizon. 
 An hour later the sky was black, the wind 
 howled, and the rain swept down upon them 
 in sheets. They were a sorry-looking trio 
 when the sloop anchored in Black Rock 
 Harbor, and it was a rough walk over to the 
 village ; but their spirits seemed to rise with 
 the gale, — there was endless overflow of 
 mirth, — and when at last they entered the 
 big room of the tavern, and stood mud- 
 stained and water-soaked before the great, 
 riotous fire blazing on the hearth, they were 
 
LAUNCHING INTO THE DEEP 165 
 
 the life of the company, giving way to their 
 mischievous impulses like boys set loose from 
 school. 
 
 Davie was sent home for dry clothes, while 
 his two companions retired to their chambers 
 for necessary changes. 
 
 Peyton appeared at the Hardys' an hour 
 later to say that Gordon was nursing a slight 
 chill, and wished the friendly help of the 
 boy. 
 
 " It 's nothing to excite alarm," explained 
 Peyton. " It will soon pass. I suppose ex- 
 posure caused it. Gordon has not regained 
 his former strength." 
 
 " What a brave, uncomplaining, sanguine 
 man he is ! " said Mary. " I think it takes 
 a long time to get even a fair idea of Mr. 
 Gordon's merits; but the better one knows 
 him, the higher value does he give to such a 
 character." 
 
 " He 's the choicest spirit I have ever met 
 among men," was Peyton's enthusiastic reply. 
 " He does n't carry his heart on his sleeve for 
 daws to peck at, but he has the heart of a 
 hundred ordinary folks, and I believe he'd 
 give his life for a friend — yes, even for a 
 foe, if need be — without a moment's hesita- 
 tion or a single regret." 
 
166 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 " Ah, it 's plain to see that you know some- 
 thing about friendship," remarked Martha, 
 with kindling spirit. 
 
 " Gordon does n't need me to sound his 
 praises. He speaks for himself. Look at his 
 devotion to Davie ; why, it 's one of the most 
 beautiful sights I've ever seen. Little fel- 
 lows like your brother are not always com- 
 panionable, and I don't think men take to 
 them generally, but Davie 's almost like the 
 apple of his eye. He preferred him to me 
 for company this evening. That's why I 
 came here instead of staying with Gordon." 
 
 " Perhaps you 'd better go back to the 
 tavern. He may require a service at your 
 hands." Was there a hint at mischief in the 
 speech of Miss Randolph ? 
 
 " Oh, no, no," replied Peyton innocently. 
 " I think he was glad to get rid of me for 
 a time. Did you know that Davie could be 
 as sweet and gentle as a girl in a sick-room ? 
 Why, he'll wait on Gordon, put his arms 
 around his neck, smooth his hair and pat his 
 hands, fondle him, and tease him with the 
 indefinable art of the veriest coquette." 
 
 " You don't think Mr. Gordon suffers on 
 account of his wounds, do you ? " 
 
 " Why, yes ; he 's far from being himself 
 
< 
 
LAUNCHING INTO THE DEEP 167 
 
 again. And then I fear that he is carrying 
 heavy burdens. He 's very reserved, and I 
 never pry into his secrets, but I feel certain 
 that some task is pressing him sore. It 's a 
 curious position in which we are placed. I 
 trust him implicitly, but the mystery of the 
 past remains a sealed book. He 's a noble 
 gentleman, the best man in all the world, 
 my dearest friend, but I take him simply 
 for what he is. I know that such manhood 
 is the fruit of honorable years. We don't 
 gather figs of thistles." 
 
 Peyton returned to the tavern at an early 
 hour to find Gordon and Davie sitting con- 
 tentedly before the fire. 
 
 " Yes, I 'm doing well," was the gentle- 
 man's answer to Peyton. " Davie has been 
 cheering me up, and driving away the ague. 
 I think he '11 make a physician. He won't 
 have to give drugs or herbs, — his mere pre- 
 sence will be like a medicine." 
 
 After the child had gone home, the two 
 men talked far into the night. Gordon was 
 restless, and begged Peyton to sit with him. 
 The wood blazed merrily on the hearth, and 
 the play of light filled the room with fan- 
 tastic images. The world had taken on a 
 sudden appearance of unreality for both men, 
 
168 FBIEND OB FOE 
 
 and these strange shadows which flitted 
 across the walls, chasing each other into dark 
 corners, and haunting the very brains of the 
 dreamers, added to the weirdness of the hour 
 and the vague disquiet of their souls. 
 
CHAPTER XVI 
 
 " TEA DOTH OUR FANCY AID * 
 
 The forefathers and the f oremothers of the 
 Revolutionary epoch in America had called 
 tea " a detestable weed/' " a base exotic/' " a 
 rank poison far-fetched and dear-bought/' 
 " an unworthy Indian drink ; " nevertheless, 
 the herb resumed its sway in the home of the 
 New Englander on the first day of opportu- 
 nity. 
 
 What traditions are connected with the 
 old-fashioned tea party ! — the solid mahog- 
 any table, the handsome, spotless web of 
 homespun linen, the curious, delicate china, 
 which a member of the family may, per- 
 chance, have brought from Hongkong ! 
 
 What pride in the heart of the housewife 
 as she set the plates, arranged the cups and 
 saucers, filled the cream pitcher and sugar 
 bowl, — displaying her wealth of dainty or 
 substantial fare ! 
 
 The bread was white and it was brown. 
 There was golden butter shaped into quaint, 
 
170 FRIEND OB FOE 
 
 original designs ; cheese with snap in its 
 flavor ; dried beef cut into thin, crimson 
 pieces ; quince sauce, " cheap sass," and rasp- 
 berry jam ; sweet pickles and sour pickles ; 
 pound cake, ginger cake, and 'lection cake; 
 apple, mince, tart, and berry pies. And was 
 there not the big pitcher of milk, and the 
 bigger pitcher of cider, never a place remain- 
 ing for a small pitcher of water ? 
 
 But how poor and vain such array, did 
 there not appear at the foot of the table the 
 precious pot of tea ! For it suggested warmth 
 and sociability ; the steam floating elusively 
 through the room appealed to the imagina- 
 tion, not a little sentiment being associated 
 with the grateful aroma. 
 
 When Mr. and Mrs. Sherman gave a tea 
 for the two students, they invited the Har- 
 dy s, the minister and his wife, Miss Hobart, 
 and Mr. and Mrs. Sturges. 
 
 They were seated at the table, and the 
 hostess, lifting the steaming piece of china, 
 gently, cautiously, poured the hot liquor into 
 its delicate receptacle. 
 
 " Mrs. Humphrey, shall I put cream and 
 sugar into your tea ? M 
 
 " Cream, I thank you, without sugar," 
 replied the lady, with a grace of manner 
 
TEA DOTH OUB FANCY AID 171 
 
 -which matched the cordiality of Mrs. Sher- 
 man. 
 
 " Some people are so sweet that they do 
 not need sugar." The remark evoked quiet 
 laughter. 
 
 " Miss Hobart, how will you take your 
 tea ? " and the hostess beamed upon the next 
 recipient of her favor. 
 
 " Clear, if you please. I like to get the 
 taste of the tea ; and you always have such a 
 fine article. Where do you get it ? " 
 
 The question gave the lady a chance to 
 speak of a friend who had followed the sea 
 for many years. 
 
 " My old schoolmate, Samuel Hooker, you 
 know, is captain of a sailing-vessel, and he 
 never returns from China without bringing 
 me a chest of tea. I am sure he gets the 
 best, too, for he was never one to do things 
 in any half-hearted way." 
 
 A little buzz of kindly comment greeted 
 this remark, while the lady continued her 
 questioning of guests in respect to their 
 preferences for tea clear, or tea with sugar 
 and without cream, or without sugar and 
 with cream. 
 
 This service over the teapot exhilarated the 
 company so that the temperature of social 
 
172 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 life rose higher and higher until it reached 
 the desired point of geniality and decorous 
 enjoyment. 
 
 " I have learned to like doughnuts," said 
 Peyton to Miss Martha, who sat on his right. 
 " I 'm thinking what the consequences will 
 be when I return South." 
 
 " Why, you must take a cook with you 
 who knows how to make all these New 
 England goodies." Mary had overheard the 
 remark, and she answered for her sister. 
 
 " You people are a restless race," — Gor- 
 don turned to Martha, — "I 've seen the New 
 Englander in every part of the land. When 
 I boated it down the Mississippi, there were 
 half a dozen men from Connecticut and Mas- 
 sachusetts on board looking for a fortune. 
 I 've no doubt that, when the war ends, hun- 
 dreds and thousands will push for the new 
 territory through which they have passed in 
 their fighting. ' Westward the course of 
 empire wends its way,' you know. I 'd like 
 to see this country fifty years from to-day." 
 
 " Ah, Mr. Gordon, you speak like a seer." 
 The host had listened with interest to the 
 gentleman. " The possibilities of our terri- 
 tory are beyond the dreams of the wildest 
 visionary." 
 
TEA DOTH OUR FANCY AID 173 
 
 " I believe it ; and there are larger possi- 
 bilities than territorial expansion ; I refer to 
 the development of the nation. When France 
 and England fought on this continent two or 
 three generations ago, it was simply a stage 
 in the progress of nations. France stood for 
 one civilization, England for another; and 
 the American Kevolution was another stage 
 in the growth of nations. While it was 
 Englishman against Englishman, yet it was 
 the working out of those great principles of 
 liberty which the mother country has cham- 
 pioned these centuries. And now when this 
 unhappy quarrel between mother and daugh- 
 ter has been amicably settled, — may God 
 speed the day, — the development of our race 
 life will continue. Ah, Mr. Sherman, it 's a 
 great people — the Anglo-Saxon ; I call it 
 the modern Israel among races, the people 
 bringing the inspiration of liberty and right- 
 eousness into the nations of the earth." » 
 
 " Gordon has fallen upon one of his favor- 
 ite themes." Peyton addressed Mr. Sherman. 
 " He 's a real enthusiast on the subject of 
 English-speaking peoples." 
 
 " Yes, I observe that he talks well and 
 wisely. The great work of the world is pass- 
 ing into the hands of our race. And America 
 
174 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 is destined to take no mean part in this shap- 
 ing of affairs." 
 
 " This is Martha's receipt for ginger cake," 
 "whispered Mary confidentially to Peyton. 
 " Mrs. Sherman borrowed it." 
 
 " I thought the cake had a familiar taste," 
 answered the gentleman. " You women in 
 the North know how to make everything." 
 The tone expressed warm admiration. 
 
 " Well, we 've been forced to learn. We 
 can't keep the slaves that you Southern 
 people do ; in fact, there are few slaves left 
 in New England now, — the common senti- 
 ment is against the practice, so we children 
 are taught cooking, baking, sewing, darning, 
 spinning, weaving, scrubbing, washing, — all 
 the domestic duties. I suppose you think it 
 degrading," casting a questioning glance into 
 Peyton's face, " but we thrive on work." 
 
 " You 'd adorn any station or service," he 
 remarked with gallantry. " The charm would 
 not be less on my father's old plantation 
 than in this more independent farm life of 
 the North." 
 
 " You flatter us, Mr. Peyton. Is not the 
 fame of the Southern lady spread abroad 
 through the land ? Is she not lovely and 
 graceful, a born wit, the soul of hospitality, 
 
TEA DOTH OUB FANCY AID 175 
 
 spirited and fascinating ? No one is more 
 loyal to the South than yourself." There was 
 something of the coquette in this remark. 
 
 " Miss Mary, female charms are not con- 
 fined to narrow limits. The good Lord in 
 his kindness has given every land its fair 
 share, I suppose, unless He 's shown partiality 
 to New England, and I sometimes think He 
 has." 
 
 The splendor of fine raiment was not essen- 
 tial to Mary's singular beauty, yet she not 
 only loved bright colors and delicate, costly 
 fabrics, but intuition taught her how to drape, 
 twist, shape them until they seemed a part of 
 herself. 
 
 " I wonder what you have written to your 
 Southern belles about the girls of the North ? 
 I suppose you have told how cold and formal 
 we are, how we dress in chintz and merino or 
 gingham, with a poor, shining black silk for 
 Sundays ; how we never dance or play cards, 
 but sit with our knitting or sew on our patch- 
 work, while the men shuffle restlessly in their 
 chairs and do all the talking. I suppose 
 you've said we never go fox hunting or 
 merry-making, but stay at home all the time 
 and spin and weave, or have an occasional 
 quilting party or husking-bee, or some other 
 
176 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 tiresome, silly frolic. It must be sadly dull 
 for you in the Land of Steady Habits, Mr. 
 Peyton ! " 
 
 The conversation at the table had waxed 
 loud and strong, so that Mary's remarks fell 
 simply upon Peyton's ears. 
 
 " What an injustice you do me ! " he ex- 
 claimed reproachfully. " Think you that I 
 could write discourteous or disparaging things 
 concerning friends that have loaded me down 
 with favors? Why, Miss Mary, the days 
 have all been short and swift since I came to 
 New England. A warmer-hearted and more 
 generous people never breathed the breath of 
 life. What care I if people don't sit down 
 to cards or walk a minuet ? Life is deeper 
 and broader than the sports with which we 
 amuse ourselves." 
 
 " Then you 'd give up all the worldly van- 
 ities and settle down to plain New England 
 farming, varied with going to meeting twice 
 on Sunday, attending singing - school, and 
 once in a while drinking tea with a neigh- 
 bor?" ' 
 
 Mary asked the question with assumed 
 sobriety of manner. 
 
 " It 's a question of company," answered 
 the gentleman, with enthusiasm. " Give me 
 
TEA DOTH OUB FANCY AID 111 
 
 my friends, and the social amenities would 
 soon be happily adjusted. When I go with 
 the Romans, I do as the Romans do, you 
 know. If they find their sport in straw rides 
 and paring apples to dry, who am I that I 
 should buck against time-honored customs, 
 and introduce new-fangled and foreign 
 modes?" 
 
 " Ah, Mr. Peyton, we 're all creatures of 
 habit. The fox hunting would come sooner 
 or later, I fear. You 'd get tired of the sing- 
 ing-school and the tea party. You 'd grow 
 heartsick for a Virginia reel, or one of those 
 boisterous breakdowns of the plantation." 
 
 " On my honor, Miss Mary, it 's the truth. 
 You 're very hard on me. Why, the happiest 
 days of my life have been spent in New Eng- 
 land, here in Fairfield, and never a dance or 
 — well, only a few games of cards ; and as 
 for fox hunting, of course you don't have it 
 in the North as we do in the South, but 
 that's nothing. I've been with Gordon a 
 few times, and it's lively enough without 
 any of our Southern trimmings and hilari- 
 ties." 
 
 a You '11 be saying something rash unless 
 I change the subject," interrupted the young 
 lady, in a tantalizing way. " It would shock 
 
178 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 your Virginia friends to know that you like 
 doughnuts and apple pie, that you had a 
 merry time at a quilting party, or that you 
 had learned to drink five cups of strong tea 
 at a sitting." 
 
 " How many cups did Doctor Johnson 
 drink ? Was it eleven ? And they say he 
 kept his complexion." 
 
 " I declare, Mr. Peyton, you must be more 
 temperate." The lady pretended to examine 
 his face critically, while the gentleman glowed 
 with as fresh and ruddy a color as often 
 appears upon the human countenance. " I 
 think you are turning saffron. It certainly 
 is the effect of overmuch tea." 
 
 " Did I hear Mr. Peyton say that he would 
 like another cup of tea," inquired Mrs. Sher- 
 man, who had caught the word " tea "as it 
 was wafted above the din of general conver- 
 sation. 
 
 " Yes, Mrs. Sherman," replied Mary. " Mr. 
 Peyton likes tea so well that he will join our 
 temperance society, and give up other drinks. 
 But he 's so modest that I can't persuade him 
 to pass his cup. Here it is ; " and the empty 
 piece of china went from hand to hand until 
 the hostess placed it by the teapot. 
 
 Gordon was sitting opposite Martha Ran- 
 
TEA BOTH OUR FANCY AID 179 
 
 dolph, and the talk had been spirited, but he 
 did not fail to note the expansive happiness of 
 Peyton, and the coquettish, captivating ways 
 of the elder sister. 
 
 " We 're getting very frivolous, Miss Mar- 
 tha." Gordon included the other two young 
 people in the remark. " We 've been invited 
 to a t raising/ a barn frolic, three tea parties, 
 a funeral, and an apple-bee within ten days. 
 It 's a downright waste of time." 
 
 The fair Martha flushed under the sweet 
 courtesies lavished upon her by the gentle- 
 men. The deep blue of her fathomless eyes 
 glinted and shimmered in the play of light. 
 
 "But you had never been really introduced 
 into New England society until you settled 
 down in Fairfield this summer. When once 
 you get used to the dissipation, I think you '11 
 be able to stand the pressure. I suppose you 
 studied hard in Litchfield, so that you did n't 
 live up to your social privileges." 
 
 " Now you 're making me a laughing- 
 stock," answered Gordon genially. " We 
 had a party now and then at Judge Reeves's, 
 or Colonel Tallmadge's, or Mr. Wolcott's. 
 Sometimes we went into the country for a 
 little diversion, but we did n't have the entree 
 of all the society. I think a good many 
 
180 FRIEND 6R FOE 
 
 people were a little afraid of us, — thought 
 we 'd make mischief, probably." 
 
 " No wonder/' answered Martha. " I know 
 all about you young men in the law school. 
 We heard everything at Miss Pierce's." 
 
 " Not everything ! " exclaimed Gordon, with 
 an expression of mock dismay. " We 'd never 
 dare show our faces in public. You don't 
 know how naughty and foolish law students 
 can be when they put their hearts to it." 
 
 u Well, we heard enough. Are all young 
 gentlemen alike in their taste for mischief ? " 
 
 " Not at all, not at all," cried Peyton mer- 
 rily from his side of the table. 
 
 " La, me!" cried Mary. 
 
 " She 's quoting from Dinah now," ex- 
 plained Martha. 
 
 " What good young men you are ! You 're 
 ready to die, are n't you ? " Mary drew her 
 face down to its greatest length, and rolled 
 her eyes upward. 
 
 The gentlemen laughed. 
 
 Mr. Sherman, the minister, and uncle 
 David Hardy had been discussing a conven- 
 tion of the New England States, while the 
 older ladies exchanged receipts for cooking, 
 and bemoaned the hard times. 
 
 When the company left the tea table, the 
 
TEA DOTH OUR FANCY AID 181 
 
 quartette of young folks had the permission 
 of Mrs. Sherman to go into the kitchen for 
 the corn popping and the nut cracking. 
 
 " It 's last year's, I hope ! " Mary fingered 
 the popcorn while speaking. 
 
 " Of course it is." This remark was made 
 by little Davie, who, suddenly appearing in 
 the big room, hurried through it to the tea 
 table beyond, the small boy being allowed 
 the privilege of enjoying the good fare after 
 his elders had taken their fill. 
 
 " I '11 warrant you we '11 have to teach Mr. 
 Gordon how to shell corn." Mary was hold- 
 ing a dry ear in her hand. " Now, this is 
 the way," rubbing a cob across the kernels 
 so that the shining, pointed objects were 
 loosened and made to fall into the dish 
 beneath. 
 
 " You '11 ruin those shapely fingers," ob- 
 served Gordon, as he reached for the corn 
 and forcibly took it away, giving Mary's 
 hand two or three pinches. " There, did n't 
 I tell you so ? See the huge red spots ? " 
 
 " I did n't think you could be so rude," 
 looking with reproach into the gentleman's 
 eyes. " Why don't you come to my rescue, 
 Mr. Peyton ? " 
 
 " Well, you know Gordon still thinks him- 
 
182 FRIEND OB FOE 
 
 self an invalid, — at least when he wishes to 
 be contrary, — and I can't do anything with 
 him. And then he always has his own way. 
 That 's one of his defects." 
 
 " I like to hear these Southern men talk 
 about folks having their own way," inter- 
 rupted Gordon. " They 're so gentle and 
 yielding, you know, — they never do as they 
 like, of course." 
 
 " Give me that spider ! " — spoken with 
 authority on the part of Peyton, and ad- 
 dressed to Martha, — "I '11 do the popping." 
 
 " There, did n't I tell you ? What a tone 
 of command he assumes ; and he 's taken the 
 dish away from your sister. Give me a 
 Southerner for a masterful, not-to-be-gainsaid 
 person ! " 
 
 Gordon laughed as his friend seized the 
 dish and began to shake it over the bed of 
 ruddy coals that had been heaped together 
 for their service. 
 
 The lively popping of the corn filled the 
 room with sharp echoes. 
 
 " Why, Peyton, what a famous popper you 
 are ! " spoken jocosely ; " had experience ? " 
 
 " I showed him," murmured Davie from 
 the adjoining room. " I 'm going to show 
 you how to do it, Mr. Gordon. We can't 
 
TEA DOTH OUR FANCY AID 183 
 
 swim any more this season, but we '11 do a lot 
 of popping." 
 
 " Now, who will crack the walnuts ? " asked 
 Martha, as a flat stone and the hammer were 
 brought to her. 
 
 " I suppose I might as well crack my fin- 
 gers as anybody else." Gordon stepped over 
 to Mary's side, while Martha carried a bowl 
 to Peyton, in which he poured the snow-white, 
 fluffy corn. 
 
 " I '11 get the cider," shouted Davie. " I 
 know how to draw it." 
 
 Springing away from the table, the boy 
 ran down cellar, a tallow dip in one hand 
 and the great pitcher in the other. 
 
 " Oh ! " cried Gordon, as the hammer came 
 down with a sting and a snap on his fore- 
 finger. 
 
 " Hurt you ? " inquired Mary, as he raised 
 his finger from the stone and shook his hand 
 like one trying to get loose from some venom- 
 ous insect. 
 
 "What's the matter?" Peyton turned 
 away from his corn popping as he addressed 
 them. " Any bones broken ? " 
 
 Martha walked rapidly across the room. 
 
 " By Jove ! " exclaimed Peyton, springing 
 one side, and dropping his dish of corn upon 
 the floor. 
 
184 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 Looking toward the young folks in the 
 corner, and neglecting his own task, he had 
 leaned too far into the wide-mouthed fire- 
 place, swishing his big coat skirts into the 
 very flames. Davie entered the room at the 
 moment. 
 
 " Hey, you 're afire ! " screamed the excited 
 boy, running toward Peyton. The next in- 
 stant four quarts of cider were dripping down 
 the ample folds of the gentleman's garment. 
 
 " Well, if you don't beat all boys that ever 
 lived! " exclaimed Mary. " Did anything hap- 
 pen in our family since you were born, Davie, 
 that you failed to have a hand in it ? " 
 
 Peyton pulled off his coat to see what in- 
 jury the fire had done, while Gordon had his 
 finger wound with linen. Four quarts of 
 sweet cider were scattered over the immacu- 
 late floor of the kitchen — popcorn crackled as 
 hurrying feet crushed it flat beneath their 
 tread — the mirthful spirit that had recently 
 pervaded the room suffered temporary eclipse. 
 Half an hour later, the young people entered 
 the parlor with nuts, popcorn, and cider, 
 which they lavished upon the elder members 
 of the party. 
 
CHAPTER XVII 
 
 A NEW ENGLAND RAISING 
 
 There had been famous balls in the town, 
 years gone by. The mothers and the grand- 
 mothers loved to tell about the old-time gay- 
 ety, the wonderful silks and satins worn, the 
 gem-bespangled buckles, the wigs shining 
 with diamond dust, the enormous chignons, 
 brilliant waistcoats, exquisite laces and ruffles 
 and rosettes, — infinite, beautiful adornment 
 of the person. Their stories inflamed the 
 imagination of the young people, who read 
 with keen delight " Evelina," and the fash- 
 ionable classics of the day. 
 
 " How I wish we might go to a ball and see 
 the old dances which mother describes, and 
 the new ones Mr. Gordon says are so lovely." 
 
 " Why, Mary," — the sisters were quilting 
 the rising-sun patchwork which had been put 
 on the frames by Mrs. Randolph, — " you 
 know how bitterly opposed to dancing Mr. 
 Humphrey is." Martha did not speak with 
 her former severity of manner. Could it be 
 
186 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 possible that her rigid views were softened 
 by time and the pleasant reminiscences of the 
 gentlemen, — their constant visitors ? 
 
 " Well, Martha, our minister is a very 
 godly man, the salt of the earth, but " — she 
 hesitated before whispering her heterodox 
 opinion — " he does n't know everything. 
 Mr. Gordon's a good man, and so is Mr. 
 Peyton, and they dance, and so do a great 
 many of the best people in the world." 
 
 " Yes, it 's true," replied the sister reflec- 
 tively. " I suppose our bringing up has 
 something to do with the way we look at 
 things. It can't be such a wicked amuse- 
 ment as some folks think. But there 's an- 
 other good reason for not having balls these 
 days. People are poor, they have a hard 
 time to get enough to eat and wear, the cur- 
 rency is almost worthless ; I don't believe you 
 could buy finery in town for love or money ; 
 and who feels like dancing when, as the Fed- 
 eralists say, everything is going to the dogs ? " 
 
 " But there '11 come a change soon. Mr. 
 Sherman says the convention of New Eng- 
 land States called to meet at Hartford in 
 December will do something, and Mr. Gor- 
 don told us last night that we were sure to 
 have peace within a few months. Martha, 
 
A NEW ENGLAND RAISING 187 
 
 I'm going to the first ball that comes off, 
 if mother '11 let me." The tone was decisive. 
 
 The girls stitched away silently. 
 
 " Mary, I have never thought that Mr. 
 Gordon had anything to do with the British 
 government. Of course, he's an English 
 gentleman and a man of means ; but I take 
 his word for it that he 's simply a partner in 
 the shipping business. It 's likely he intends 
 to live in this country always. Why would 
 he study law and make himself so familiar 
 with our affairs, if he did n't expect to stay in 
 America ? " 
 
 The quiet, reserved Martha, this stiff, pru- 
 dish younger sister, had caught some portion 
 of Mary's free, merry spirit within the few 
 months past. Her rebukes were now infre- 
 quent. The trivialities of social life pleased 
 the young woman. When the gentlemen 
 tarried with them, Martha did not fail in jest 
 or repartee. And all the friends observed a 
 deepening, strengthening life which shone 
 through her rare loveliness of person. 
 
 " Mr. Gordon is almost as great a mystery 
 as when " — 
 
 " Uncle David tried to introduce him," in- 
 terrupted Martha, with laughter. 
 
 " Yes," continued Mary, sharing her sister's 
 
188 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 merriment, u but the mystery clings simply 
 to what you might call the frippery of his 
 life. I think we know the man, the real 
 spirit behind the accessories of his career. 
 He 's no spy. or disguised prince, or political 
 trickster. He 's as honest as the day is long. 
 When the proper time comes, Mr. Gordon will 
 tell us the story of his career. I can wait 
 with perfect confidence." 
 
 Martha lifted her eyes from the quilting, 
 and watched her sister as she talked. 
 
 " He 's a remarkable man, and there 's 
 something more than trade that interests 
 him." 
 
 " Why, to be sure," exclaimed Mary ro- 
 guishly. " I think we interest him." 
 
 " I suppose you mean Mary Randolph ? " 
 
 " I mean Martha, too." 
 
 A curious flush appeared upon the cheeks 
 of the younger sister, and a strange, unhappy 
 look came to the surface of her eyes. 
 
 " Mary, Mr. Gordon is a man of superior 
 mind. A life devoted to trade would never 
 satisfy him. Great ideals are shaping his 
 career, and I venture to say that when the 
 truth becomes known, it will appear that he 
 has lingered in America sustained and in- 
 spired by some noble purpose." 
 
A NEW ENGLAND BAISING 189 
 
 "Why, then, does he stay in this little 
 town and pother over the details of a law 
 practice ? " 
 
 " Why, child, don't you see that Mr. Gor- 
 don has traveled all over the United States ? 
 How many times has he spoken of places in 
 the South and the West as well as the North 
 which he has visited ; and what a chance to 
 get acquainted with people from every part 
 of the land while a student in the law 
 school ! And see how many times he has 
 been called to the shore towns and the large 
 cities since we knew him." 
 
 " That 's because he owns property in 
 ships," observed Mary. 
 
 " You have n't pierced to the depths of the 
 mystery. It 's because Mr. Gordon is work- 
 ing for some grand, unselfish object, that 
 he 's living the way he does. Why, look at 
 his correspondence. Davie says there is n't 
 anybody in town that gets as many letters, 
 even Mr. Sherman ; and often the postage is 
 much more than twenty-five cents a letter." 
 
 " I don't see that you throw any light upon 
 the subject," said Mary. " It may be that 
 he 's an ambassador extraordinary, but I have 
 never detected any signs of it. I think he 
 stays in Fairfield because business is dead, 
 
190 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 and he must stay somewhere until it revives. 
 He might just as well stay here as anywhere 
 else, especially when he has a good time and 
 enjoys the society which the town affords." 
 
 " Well, that may all be. Time will tell. 
 Now that Mr. Peyton is done with the law 
 school, why does n't he go back South ? Is 
 he playing Jonathan to Mr. Gordon's David, 
 and lingering here through sheer love and 
 friendship ? " 
 
 This was badinage. 
 
 " Martha, you need n't ask me why Mr. 
 Peyton stays. Let your " — 
 
 There was a knock at the door. 
 
 u Oh, yes, they 're home," shouted Davie. 
 " Can you quilt ? Come in and help them." 
 
 The boy entered the room, preceding the 
 two gentlemen. 
 
 " Ah, it 's the rising-sun patchwork being 
 converted into a real bed-cover," observed 
 Peyton. " Good-afternoon, ladies." 
 
 The gentlemen bowed ; the ladies arose from 
 their chairs and returned the salutations. 
 
 " Here are needles," remarked Mary laugh- 
 ingly. " Shall I thread one for you, Mr. 
 Peyton, or can you do it yourself ? " 
 
 " You ought to see me sew ! " exclaimed 
 Davie. Snatching a needle from Martha, the 
 
A NEW ENGLAND RAISING 191 
 
 child ran to the opposite side of the quilt and 
 began to stitch into the yellow muslin. 
 
 " David Randolph, you will spoil our quilt. 
 Stop that mischief ! " And Martha hurried in 
 pursuit of the child, who, dropping his needle 
 as the sister drew near, scrambled across the 
 floor underneath the gorgeous fabric, and 
 emerged, merry with fun, on the farther side. 
 
 " What beautiful stitching ! " exclaimed 
 Gordon, bending over the quilt and examin- 
 ing it with the critical eye of an expert in 
 needlework. " Why, it must take you days 
 and days to do it." 
 
 " Oh, we invite the friends to help. All 
 the fine quilters in the village will leave the 
 marks of their skill upon it; and we shall 
 give a return in our best cakes, preserves, 
 and other goodies. You see, we 're starting 
 the work, getting ready for a real, old-time 
 quilting party day after to-morrow. We've 
 promised to spend the day on Holland Hill 
 Thursday. They have a barn raising, and 
 we 're to help feed the multitude." 
 
 " And I 'm going in the afternoon," inter- 
 rupted Davie. " We have great times at a 
 raising ; a fellow stuffs himself with food and 
 drink, — the fat of the land." 
 
 " And we 've been invited," said Gordon, 
 
192 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 nodding and smiling at the boy. " Yon see," 
 — speaking to the sisters, — " we are really 
 members of society. We shall attend sing- 
 ing-school, I think. I've been told that 
 people in New England were dull to the 
 point of misery because they had no amuse- 
 ments, but now that we are acclimated, we 're 
 positively overwhelmed with your gayeties." 
 
 " Don't make sport of us," cried Martha. 
 " We 're a sensitive folk." 
 
 " 'Pon my word and honor," was Gordon's 
 answer, " I 'm dead in earnest. I never had 
 a better time in all my life. Why, Mr. Sher- 
 man fears that we shall become dissipated 
 and worldly at the rate we are going on. He 
 rails at us in a good-natured way whenever 
 we mention our social activity." 
 
 " Well, you ought to attend the ' raising.' 
 It 's a very jolly company. The men expect 
 to work and have a good time between spells, 
 while the women prepare the feast and share 
 the sport as opportunity comes." 
 
 The following day was warm and hazy. 
 An Indian summer languor pervaded the air, 
 so that energy was at a discount. 
 
 Mary and Martha rode to Holland Hill 
 with several other young ladies in an ox cart, 
 perhaps the commonest vehicle used by the 
 
A NEW ENGLAND RAISING 193 
 
 farmers, chaises being few and expensive, — a 
 luxury enjoyed by the favored rich. 
 
 At least fifty of the neighbors had gathered 
 to help raise the great barn. 
 
 The solid stone foundations appeared three 
 feet above the ground, massive enough to 
 bear the weight of half a dozen such build- 
 ings. They set prime importance upon dur- 
 ability in the generations passed. 
 
 The carpenters had been preparing for the 
 great event these many days. Oak timbers, 
 cut with axe and adze, trimmed down to fair 
 proportions, were lying to the right and to the 
 left. Sills, girts, braces, rafters, posts, plates, 
 and a vast amount of lumber covered the 
 ground, so that scant space remained for the 
 sole of a man's foot. 
 
 It was a time when wit and wisdom, jest 
 and earnest, work and play, sly tricks, rude 
 speeches, rough shouting, boisterous doings, 
 and occasional quarrels mingled indiscrimi- 
 nately. The farm lads had their jokes, the 
 carpenters were lively with oversight and 
 directions, the old men told how things were 
 done a better way fifty years ago, and the 
 women adventured into the scene of action 
 to bring welcome drinks, or bind up pinched 
 fingers, or bathe with liniment bruised heads 
 or limbs. 
 
194 FBIENB OB FOE 
 
 First the heavy oaken sills were mortised 
 and tenoned together, the cross-sills worked 
 into the main ones, gaining in the floor joists 
 or timbers. Then followed the framing of 
 the corner and centre posts with the main 
 and the short girts, the braces and the plates 
 where the rafters rest, the great girts, the 
 gallus posts, and the rafters. 
 
 They were now ready for the raising, — 
 no ordinary task, for the material was all of 
 the heaviest and most substantial kind. 
 
 They pinned one section together, — two 
 main posts, one centre post, one great joist, 
 one great girder, two short posts, and four 
 braces. What cries and heavings and lift- 
 ings and turmoil as the bents came into their 
 right places ! 
 
 " Now we will plumb it, and stay it ! " 
 shouted the head carpenter. 
 
 Willing hands brought the temporary 
 braces, which they deftly put into the needy 
 places, and one part of the task was ended. 
 
 They treated a second section in the same 
 mode, and a third, the work now being well 
 under way. 
 
 A wild huzza from Davie was the signal 
 for rest. The men hastened over to the 
 large trough in the yard, washed their hands 
 
A NEW ENGLAND BA1SING 195 
 
 in the clear, running spring water, and then 
 filled the big kitchen, the back porch, and 
 the clean woodshed with their lively company. 
 
 Both Gordon and Peyton had joined heart- 
 ily in the morning's task, making themselves 
 agreeable to all alike, keeping up a running 
 fire of jest or story. 
 
 " If you hain't about the two friendliest 
 sort of foreign chaps I ever knew," said one 
 back-country farmer to the young lawyers. 
 " If you r'a'ly lived in these here pairts, I 
 sh'd think you were runnin' for office, and 
 I '11 be doggoned if I would n't vote for you." 
 
 " Why should n't they be friendly ? " in- 
 quired Mary Randolph, who was passing a 
 big pan of bread and butter, made appetizing 
 by thin slices of delicious ham. 
 
 " Wal, now," continued the farmer, look- 
 ing inquisitively toward Gordon, " do they 
 have raisin's where you come from ? " 
 
 " They raise Cain, probably." Peyton came 
 to the rescue of his friend. " But such good 
 turns as you New England farmers serve each 
 other are not common in every part of the 
 world." 
 
 " Take a piece of fried chicken," inter- 
 rupted Davie, bringing a dish heaped high 
 with this favorite Connecticut delicacy. 
 
196 FRIEND OB FOE 
 
 " Here 's to your health ! " cried one of 
 the farmer lads, neighbor to the Hardy s. 
 
 The host was filling cups and glasses with 
 strong milk punch. 
 
 A " raising " became an occasion when 
 liquor flowed with the freedom of a spring 
 freshet. Mr. Humphrey had preached against 
 the practice, but men still clung to the old 
 way tenaciously. 
 
 It was a generous feast provided by the 
 ladies of Holland Hill. Stacks upon stacks 
 of bread were consumed, while slices of beef 
 and mutton, pickled tongue and fresh spare- 
 rib, great dishes of baked beans decorated 
 with crisp pork, several oyster pies, and in- 
 numerable pickles disappeared down capacious 
 throats. 
 
 The various pies tasted not less toothsome ; 
 and with what dexterity the men held them 
 in their hands and carried the big pieces to 
 the mouth, never losing a flake of crust or 
 drop of juice. 
 
 Enormous pails of cider had been set in 
 convenient places, so that the feasters might 
 drink at their leisure. 
 
 Cake finished off the informal meal. 
 
 " That 's a new receipt for gingerbread," 
 observed Martha, as she gave the two gentle- 
 
A NEW ENGLAND RAISING 197 
 
 men a taste of the brittle stuff. " And this 
 is Mrs. Burr's very best fruit cake. There 's 
 a suspicious odor to it, which suggests that it 
 stands in the liquor closet." 
 
 " I 've often heard it said that you people 
 in Connecticut did n't really know how to 
 laugh." 
 
 As Peyton made the remark to the elder 
 sister, laughter resounded on every side. 
 
 " Why, I never saw a merrier or more jo- 
 vial party. I 'm ready to attend a ' raising ' 
 every day of the week," said Gordon. 
 
 The merry lads indulged in wild pranks, 
 while the elder members of the company 
 filled their cups for a last potation before 
 the return to work. 
 
 It was a little after one o'clock, — the men 
 once more being scattered over the ground 
 and amid the skeleton timbers which stood 
 out against the sky. 
 
 A slight wind had risen during the hour, 
 so that when work was resumed new diffi- 
 culties faced the workers. And it must not 
 be forgotten that many of the feasters had 
 eaten and drunk with such liberality that 
 heads lacked clearness and steps became un- 
 steady. 
 
 Two sections were to be raised by different 
 
198 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 parties at the same time, and then these two, 
 being pinned to the others, would make a 
 solid, unyielding frame. 
 
 " Now we are ready, all together ! " shouted 
 the man in authority. " Up they go, my 
 men, — clean as a whistle ! " 
 
 The two sections stood upright, waiting 
 for pins and braces to make them sure and 
 fast. 
 
 A dozen men had climbed upon different 
 parts of the frame ; some were walking along 
 the beams, others putting on the plates for 
 the rafters, a few attending to the gallus 
 work. Little Davie, nimble as a cat, sprang 
 across one of the girders. 
 
 " Davie, come down ! " shouted Gordon. 
 " The wind will blow you to Ballahac." 
 
 Gordon was alarmed, but he did not wish 
 to frighten the little fellow. 
 
 Davie waved his hand airily, and walked 
 along the dizzy height, as Mary and Martha 
 first saw him in his dangerous position. 
 
 Nearly every man was intent upon the par- 
 ticular part of the work that he was sharing, 
 and the interest in the binding of these last 
 sections to the gaunt frame was great. Once 
 pinned and braced, made an integral part of 
 the huge skeleton, and the chief peril was 
 
A NEW ENGLAND RAISING 199 
 
 past ; the winds might wrestle with the tim- 
 bers to their hearts' content, and the oaken 
 frame would remain stanch and firm. 
 
 But this critical moment was the one which 
 the winds chose for a final riotous assault 
 upon the uneasy posts, beams, girts, and 
 braces. Swooping down upon the skeleton 
 structure with the fury of invisible, malig- 
 nant demons, they swayed the two unbraced 
 and pinless sections back and forth like so 
 much pasteboard. Would the tottering pieces 
 of timber regain their equilibrium ? 
 
 A score of hoarse voices chased each other 
 confusedly through the air. 
 
 " Look out ! " " Get down ! " " Run for 
 your life ! " " Stand firm ! " " Hold fast ! " 
 " It 's giving way ! " " Jump, men, jump ! " 
 " There it goes ! " A bedlam of mixed noises, 
 and then breathless silence on the part of the 
 men, who stood chained to the spot. 
 
 Back and forth the two sections swayed once 
 again, — the workmen with pins and braces 
 had deserted it ; then the winds twisted the 
 timbers as human hands might twist soft and 
 yielding cords, and, gathering their strength, 
 hurled the indistinguishable mass against the 
 other sections of the frame. 
 
 Peyton had seen the awful peril of little 
 
200 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 Davie, and ran nigh the post to which the 
 child had instinctively clung. 
 
 " Jump into my arms, boy, jump into my 
 arms ! " stretching them forth in wild en- 
 treaty. 
 
 There was the terrific crash of groaning, 
 snapping, falling wood, the mocking roar 
 of the sudden winds, a few broken sounds 
 of the human voice, and a dozen men lay 
 upon the earth amid the mass of shapeless 
 lumber. 
 
 A moment — an eternity — and men rushed 
 forward to the rescue of their comrades. 
 Peyton and little Davie were found locked 
 in each other's arms, thrown against a heap 
 of stones, bespattered with blood, and sense- 
 less. One farmer had a broken leg, another 
 a broken arm ; all were sorely bruised, while 
 underneath a corner post one of the carpen- 
 ters lay dead. 
 
 Gordon dragged Davie and Peyton beyond 
 the debris, and then set to work with the 
 sisters to bring them back to consciousness. 
 Washing away the blood, chafing their hands, 
 and pouring restoratives down their throats, 
 signs of a return to life showed themselves. 
 
 "Ah, Davie, it was a brave jump," were 
 the first words spoken by Peyton. 
 
A NEW ENGLAND RAISING 201 
 
 Tears ran down the cheeks of the sisters 
 as they lavished kisses upon the boy. 
 
 " But it was very naughty for you to climb 
 the timbers, Davie. Why did you do such a 
 thing?" 
 
 " For the fun of it/' was the reply, fol- 
 lowed by a swift shadow on the face and a 
 pitiful moan. 
 
 " Where are you hurt, Davie ? Tell me, 
 where is the pain ? " 
 
 " It 's my arm and my side," he said 
 feebly. 
 
 The arm was broken, and the side roughly 
 bruised. 
 
 " Thank you, Peyton." The boy smiled in 
 his sunny, genial way. " You saved my life, 
 did n't you ? " 
 
 A sudden twinge of pain drove the smile 
 from his face, and drew pathetic groans from 
 his tightened lips. 
 
 An hour later they carried him to his 
 home. 
 
CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 IN WHICH THEIR FORTUNES ARE TOLD 
 
 The war on land had been generally dis- 
 astrous to American arms, our troops facing 
 humiliation after humiliation ; hut victories 
 on the sea redeemed the good name of the 
 United States, adding fresh lustre to the 
 national fame. 
 
 Restlessness in the East increased with the 
 lengthening of the unequal conflict, so Mas- 
 sachusetts took the initiative in calling a con- 
 vention of New England States. The object, 
 as stated in the invitation, was " to devise, if 
 practicable, means of security and defense 
 which may be consistent with the preservation 
 of our resources from total ruin, and adapted 
 to our local situation, mutual relations and 
 habits, and not repugnant to our obligations 
 as members of the Union." 
 
 Connecticut responded to the call, and her 
 legislature appointed seven strong, represent- 
 ative men to sit with other New Englanders 
 in council upon public affairs. Among the 
 number was Roger M. Sherman. 
 
THEIR FORTUNES ARE TOLD 203 
 
 "Will you explain to me the action of 
 your legislature ? " 
 
 Peyton was talking with Mr. Sherman, a 
 member of the upper House, on his return 
 to Fairfield. 
 
 "Well, sir, the United States has in her 
 forts and armies about twenty-seven thousand 
 effective men ; of these only thirteen hundred 
 are employed in New England." 
 
 " Yes, I 've made a note of that fact," ob- 
 served Peyton thoughtfully. 
 
 " The war has been in operation two years 
 and a half. We have a seacoast (I mean 
 New England) of seven hundred miles to pro- 
 tect, and, with the exception of the thirteen 
 hundred men referred to, we have had the 
 aid of no military force from the United 
 States. By internal taxes, all others having 
 become unproductive by reason of the war, 
 the national government has raised large 
 sums from the people in our territory." 
 
 " Yes, I know that to be true." 
 
 " Direct taxation," continued Mr. Sher- 
 man, warming to his subject, " is now the 
 only resource of the state governments, and 
 this has been carried to as great an extreme 
 in Connecticut as can be sustained. The 
 banks, which have furnished all our currency, 
 
204 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 either withhold their accommodations or stop 
 payment, and the people are embarrassed by 
 a general stagnation of business. Mr. Gor- 
 don has been made to feel the force of this 
 statement." 
 
 " Yes, I have heard him remark upon it." 
 
 " Powerful fleets and armies lie off our 
 coast, and are making or threatening inva- 
 sions in all parts of our defenseless seaboard. 
 Commodore Decatur and his squadron have 
 taken refuge in the waters of Connecticut, 
 and attracted a powerful concentration of the 
 enemy's forces on our borders. Castine has 
 fallen into the hands of the British." 
 
 The member from the upper House gave 
 Peyton a keen, searching look in order to 
 judge concerning the impression which he 
 was making. 
 
 " Now, sir, under all these disadvantages, 
 the New England States are obliged to pro- 
 tect themselves by their own militia, at their 
 own expense. The expenses of this State 
 greatly exceed her resources. The duration 
 of the war cannot be foreseen, and our credit 
 is exhausted. Attempts have been made to 
 borrow money, but without adequate success. 
 The national Constitution prohibits the emis- 
 sion of bills of credit. In this extremity, our 
 
THEIR FORTUNES ARE TOLD 205 
 
 legislature, convened at New Haven, has re- 
 ceived from the legislature of Massachusetts 
 a communication proposing a convention of 
 delegates from the New England States to 
 consult on the adoption of measures for the 
 common safety. This communication was 
 referred to a joint committee of both Houses, 
 General Henry Champion and myself being 
 appointed from the upper House. He was 
 chairman of the committee, and I drew the 
 report, recommending a compliance with the 
 proposal made by the State of Massachusetts, 
 and assigning the reason at length. Seven 
 delegates are appointed from Connecticut, 
 and I have the honor to be one of the 
 number." 
 
 " Thank you, Mr. Sherman, for this lucid 
 statement." 
 
 A few days later the young men were sit- 
 ting in the child's sick-room. 
 
 " You will go to Hartford ? " 
 
 " Yes," replied Gordon to Miss Mary. 
 " You see, I can safely leave Davie in your 
 charge and Peyton's," — he smiled faintly, — 
 " and there are reasons for my going." 
 
 " I think Davie is doing very well. Is n't 
 he the cheerfulest, happiest prisoner of cir- 
 cumstances in all the world ? " 
 
206 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 " The dear little hero ! " exclaimed Gordon 
 in tones of deep feeling. 
 
 " He was asking for you this morning/' 
 remarked the sister. " You and Mr. Peyton 
 are the very breath of his life. When you 're 
 away he withers and droops, but the instant 
 of your coming he seems fresh as a June 
 morning." 
 
 The child's arm had been put into splints, 
 his bruises doctored, everything done for his 
 good and comfort, immediately after the acci- 
 dent. But Davie was delicate, — a wonderful 
 mind, a great spirit in a small, stunted body. 
 During the years of comradeship with Gordon 
 and Peyton, it did not appear that an inch 
 had been added to his stature. The boy con- 
 sumed his vitality in an extraordinary, unre- 
 strained liveliness of mind and body. 
 
 They made uncle David's study into the 
 sick-room, and here the family life now cen- 
 tred. The walls were lined with books, a 
 big-mouthed fireplace swallowed up great 
 sticks of seasoned oak, a large mahogany 
 table standing in the middle of the room 
 held papers, inkhorn, quills, a stuffed owl, 
 half a dozen rosy-cheeked apples, a plate of 
 chestnuts, two or three simple remedies, and 
 the priceless treasures given the boy by his 
 
THEIR FORTUNES ARE TOLD 207 
 
 loving friends, — a knife, a silver chain, a 
 beautiful miniature, and a picture-book lately 
 come from London. 
 
 The little bed with its snow-white coverlet 
 leaned against the table, placed, in answer to 
 the child's whim, so that he could reach the 
 things which pleased him, and watch hour 
 after hour the marvelous play of the fire. A 
 few stiff-backed chairs and a low workstand 
 for the girls completed the furnishings of the 
 room. 
 
 " Good-morning, my cheery young man ! " 
 Gordon entered the study, bringing with him 
 the brightness of the clear, bracing day. 
 
 " I heard your step on the porch," piped 
 up the blithe voice of the boy. " I knew it 
 was you. Uncle David drags his feet along, 
 Mr. Jackson used to steal into the house so 
 you hardly heard him, and Peyton walks 
 light as a feather ; but you put your feet 
 down as much as to say, ' Here am I, sir ! ' " 
 
 The child's eyes twinkled merrily as he 
 spoke. 
 
 " Davie, you have wonderful discernment. 
 If I did n't think you were to be a doctor, I 
 should say that fortune-telling might afford 
 an opportunity for the exercise of your gifts. 
 Suppose, now, I consult you on my future 
 prospects ? " 
 
208 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 Davie was delighted with the humor of the 
 thing. 
 
 "Give me your hand/' said the boy, with 
 assumed air of mystery, pinching the prof- 
 fered member with his white, fragile ringers, 
 and concentrating his gaze upon it. 
 
 " You 're a cross between Scotch and Eng- 
 lish." An amused smile played over the face 
 of the gentleman. " You 've had a good 
 bringing up, and are a real, true gentleman. " 
 Gordon bowed his acknowledgments, and the 
 fortune-teller continued. " You '11 be very 
 rich one day, a great deal of property 's com- 
 ing to you." Gordon was suddenly grave. 
 " You '11 do a great deal of good with your 
 money, and make many people happy ; happy 
 as the day is long." 
 
 " Thank you, my wise, sweet prophet," ex- 
 claimed the man tenderly. 
 
 " There,, don't interrupt," — spoken with a 
 comical air of authority, — "the best is yet 
 to come," smiling with the joy of a great, 
 deep emotion stirring in his soul ; " you '11 
 marry your true love, and — and " — it was 
 hard to find the right words to end off the 
 story — " and forever after hold your peace." 
 
 Davie's laugh rang merrily through the 
 house. There was a strange, beautiful light 
 
THEIR FORTUNES ARE TOLD 209 
 
 in Gordon's eyes as he joined in the mirth, 
 while Mary leaned down and kissed the child 
 upon his pale lips. 
 
 " We shall see, my boy." The gentleman 
 had withdrawn his hand from the hold of 
 Davie, and was standing at the foot of his 
 cot. " I shall be afraid of you, if all you 
 say comes true." 
 
 " Shall I tell your fortune, Mary ? " The 
 boy looked mischievously into the face of his 
 sister. 
 
 " No, tell Martha's. Here she comes." 
 
 " Come, Miss Martha, and hear your for- 
 tune. Our gypsy has told mine, and it 
 sounds like a real fairy tale." 
 
 Martha smoothed the brother's hair, and 
 lavished gentle arts upon him. 
 
 " Yes, I see it all," cried Davie, seizing her 
 hand and keeping it close under inspection. 
 " This is a very dear, loving, tender child. 
 She will grow up to be a real lady. Most 
 everybody will love her, but there 's one that 
 will love her with all his might, and he'll 
 carry her off and put her in a beautiful cage 
 on a hill, and her friends will all go to see 
 her, and such good times as we '11 have, and 
 we '11 all be happy as our hearts can hold. 
 Is n't that a nice fortune ? " 
 
210 FEIEND OR FOE 
 
 The blushing Martha was fondling the 
 child, trying to hush his jolly, harmless 
 prattle. 
 
 " How delightfully indefinite ! Why, Davie, 
 you 'd make your fortune, — nobody would 
 have to tell it, — if you went through the land 
 foretelling such pleasant, charming things." 
 
 " Now," said Gordon, " it is your chance," 
 turning to the older sister. " Our gypsy may 
 not be in the mood to-morrow." 
 
 Mary was standing by the fire, tracing the 
 shy faces that appeared in fantastic tongues 
 of flame as they rioted against the dark back- 
 ground. 
 
 " I 'm afraid to have my fortune told. The 
 others have been so good and beautiful that 
 a third must break the record." 
 
 " That is not fair," exclaimed Gordon. 
 " Here, Davie, take this coin," slipping a 
 small gold piece into his hand ; " will it pay 
 for the three ? " 
 
 " Now, Mary, it 's paid for, and the fortune- 
 teller wants to give us the worth of Mr. Gor- 
 don's money." 
 
 As Martha spoke, she drew the fickle, 
 coquettish sister over to Davie's bed. 
 
 " I read all sorts of curious, lovely things," 
 said the boy, turning his wise gaze upon her 
 
THEIR FORTUNES ARE TOLD 211 
 
 classic hand. " This lady is well educated, 
 comes of a good family, has a strain of witch 
 blood in her, so that she bewitches some 
 folks " — 
 
 " You 're a bad gypsy to say such things," 
 interrupted the girl, snatching away her hand. 
 " I don't want my fortune told." 
 
 "But you must have it ; he 's earning his 
 living." Gordon spoke whimsically, as he 
 caught the lady's hand and gave it to the 
 child. 
 
 " How you bother me," said Davie, with 
 comical severity. " I can't see into the future 
 when you talk so much." He was studying 
 the lines. " The lady has an awful temper, 
 but she gets along with it very well — better 
 than her friends do, sometimes." Again the 
 boy's merry laugh rang through the room, 
 while he retained a hold upon the reluctant 
 hand. " She has many virtues, and only a 
 few vices, like teasing, fl — " 
 
 " You 're a bad, bad gypsy, I say," strug- 
 gling gently to release herself from Davie. 
 " I won't hear another word," with assumed 
 anger. 
 
 " Oh, yes, you will," said Gordon, standing 
 close by her side, and laying his powerful 
 hand upon her free one, so that she was a 
 
212 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 helpless prisoner ; " the best is still to come. 
 It '11 be worth the money, hey, Davie ? " 
 
 " This child," continued the boy, heedless 
 of the break, " will live in a beautiful land, 
 and servants will wait upon her, and she'll 
 make a slave of the fine gentleman, her hus- 
 band; but they'll be gay as the birds that 
 nest in the trees, and they '11 try to do right 
 by everybody, and give Davie Randolph a 
 real pony to ride on, and they '11 have every- 
 thing that heart can wish, and " — hesitating 
 a moment in order to recall a quotation which 
 Peyton had repeated several times in Davie's 
 hearing — " love alters not with his brief 
 hours and weeks." 
 
 " I told you it would be something worth 
 hearing ; and there 's Peyton coming." Gor- 
 don caught sight of his comrade as he passed 
 the window. " Davie must tell his fortune, 
 too." 
 
 " Did n't I say his step was light as a 
 feather ? " laughed the boy, as the newcomer 
 entered the room. 
 
 " It 's your turn next," remarked Gordon, 
 after greetings, and the boy's role of gypsy 
 had been explained. " Give him a gold coin 
 and see what will come of it." 
 
 " He 's been paid already," said Martha, 
 
THEIR FORTUNES ARE TOLD 213 
 
 trying to push away the hand containing the 
 piece of money. 
 
 " Thank you, madam ! " cried Davie. 
 " That 's a nice way to treat a gypsy after 
 he 's done well by you." He was fumbling 
 the shining bit of metal which Peyton had 
 given him. " This youth " — following out 
 the lines in the gentleman's hand — " will 
 have his ups and downs. Poor fellow/' — 
 the boy's eyes gleamed with fun, — " he 's 
 always trying to save somebody's life, while 
 he 's lost his own." 
 
 " Gospel truth," exclaimed Gordon. " Go 
 ° n > gypsy." 
 
 " How can I go on when you stop me with 
 rude skits ? He 's a fairly good man, — not 
 too good." Davie's brow was wrinkled with 
 thought. " Not good enough to die, you 
 know, but just good enough to live." The 
 remark was greeted with laughter. " There 's 
 a boy that loves him as well as if he was " — 
 the little lips framed the word brother, then 
 there came a mischievous twist, and the for- 
 tune-teller continued — " loves him as well as 
 if he was his father." 
 
 Gordon shook his sides with merriment, in 
 which the girls joined, while the object of 
 their sport pretended to be highly incensed. 
 
214 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 " You 're a downright fraud. I 've no 
 confidence in you. Give me back my money, 
 
 gypsy!" 
 
 " But everything will come out right. This 
 man will get his life back one day, and then 
 won't he be happy ; and how he '11 spend 
 money, and have a grand time, and go to 
 balls with his wife, and hunt foxes with a 
 friend from the North, and be governor of 
 the State, and live in great style. Then 
 we '11 all go to visit him and stay a year. 
 Have n't you got the worth of your money ? " 
 and the child looked wistfully into the sym- 
 pathetic face of his devoted, loving friend. 
 
 " It 's too good to be true, gypsy," an- 
 swered Peyton, with infinite tenderness. " I 
 don't deserve such fortune." 
 
 " But truth is stranger than fiction," ob- 
 served Gordon. " I shall believe all that the 
 fortune-teller has said." 
 
 " And so shall I ! " " And I ! " exclaimed 
 the light-hearted sisters. 
 
 " Davie did n't say that I 'm going to 
 Hartford, but I suppose we could n't expect 
 a gypsy to know everything and go into all 
 the details of a man's life." 
 
 " No, I reckon we would n't like to have 
 him get quite so far as that," said Peyton. 
 
THEIR FORTUNES ARE TOLD 215 
 
 " He might say things that would make us 
 shiver." 
 
 " But you '11 come back in a few days ? " 
 inquired the child anxiously. 
 
 " Yes, Davie ; and I leave Mr. Peyton here 
 to see that you don't run away while I am 
 gone. Torture him all you please, and make 
 him step lively when there 's anything wanted. 
 Remember you said he had a light step, light 
 as a feather. I never saw a feather step, but 
 I suppose you know exactly how light that is." 
 
 " Will you write me a real letter ? " asked 
 the boy, smiling at the jest of his friend. 
 " Mr. Peyton wrote to me last summer when 
 you stayed in New York and fought the 
 burglars." 
 
 " Why, of course I will." 
 
 " Do you think you '11 have another adven- 
 ture ? " 
 
 " What says our fortune-teller ? " 
 
 The boy looked wise. 
 
 " Mr. Gordon will stay a few days in Hart- 
 ford," — this was the prophecy, — " and on 
 his coming back will be lost, in the snow, I 
 think, and we '11 find him after many days. 
 There, I 'm tired now, and the gypsy has gone." 
 
 Davie put the right hand underneath his 
 head, and turned to gaze at fitful pictures 
 shifting across the fire on the hearth. 
 
CHAPTER XIX 
 
 THE WAR-HAWKS SEIZE A VICTIM 
 
 Party feeling ran high when the Hartford 
 Convention met on the fifteenth of Decem- 
 ber, 1814. Not only was New England in a 
 ferment, but this darkest hour of war filled 
 many patriot souls with awful forebodings. 
 While the purpose of the meeting was fairly 
 stated, and the stern necessity for New Eng- 
 land to protect herself against foreign inva- 
 sion impressed the sons of her soil, yet strange 
 fears lurked in the minds of a minority, or 
 they chose to twist facts and use for political 
 capital their hatred of the movement. 
 
 The men chosen by the States to represent 
 their respective constituencies were eminent 
 and well-equipped citizens. With heavy 
 hearts, they assembled to devise means for 
 the help of a distressed and suffering people. 
 
 Mr. George Cabot, of Boston, was unani- 
 mously chosen president, and Mr. Theodore 
 Dwight, of Hartford, not a member of the 
 convention, secretary. 
 
THE WAR-HAWKS SEIZE A VICTIM 217 
 
 Rules of procedure having been adopted, 
 a committee reported a general project of 
 such measures as the convention was called to 
 discuss, and the delegates forthwith entered 
 upon their work. 
 
 The sessions were veiled with secrecy. 
 
 Gordon found lodgings in a private house. 
 He had no part or lot in the mysterious con- 
 vention, but it was evidently his purpose to 
 meet the delegates in a social way. 
 
 " And what brings you to Hartford ? " 
 
 The speaker was Dana, Jackson's second 
 in the duel. He and Gordon met on the 
 main street. 
 
 " I will put the same question to you." 
 
 The two men regarded each other with 
 curiosity. 
 
 " Well, I 'm here to squeeze information 
 out of the delegates to this infamous Hartford 
 Convention." 
 
 Dana was a rank Democrat, rabid to the 
 point of fanaticism, and Connecticut was his 
 native State. 
 
 " I 'm here to have my wits brightened 
 by some friendly association with Hartford 
 wits." 
 
 " That 's a sane object," was the reply. 
 " No doubt you need it. I suppose you 've 
 
218 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 become acquainted with the traitors sitting 
 behind the closed doors of the State House? " 
 
 " Yes/' answered Gordon, with provoking 
 serenity. " And a superb company of cul- 
 tivated gentlemen they are. It 's a great 
 pleasure to meet so much culture and intelli- 
 gence. I am reading in the office of Mr. 
 Sherman, a member of the convention." 
 
 " Ah, then, I suppose you are posted upon 
 the run of affairs." 
 
 " Well, sir, since the sessions are secret, 
 according to your own statement and as a 
 matter of fact, it is safe to say that you know 
 quite as much about their deliberations as I. 
 I doubt, however, if there is a single member 
 of this honorable body who will disclose 
 anything until released from the pledge of 
 secrecy." 
 
 " To think," exclaimed Dana, " that New 
 England has come to this pass, — the New 
 England of the Revolution ! Why, if these 
 men had their deserts, they 'd be put behind 
 prison bars; and yet there are people who 
 speak of them as the flower of Eastern civil- 
 ization, — bright, particular stars in our fir- 
 mament ! What shameful mockery ! " 
 
 " This is interesting," observed Gordon. 
 " Several of these men I have known for 
 
THE WAR-HAWKS SEIZE A VICTIM 219 
 
 years; some of them intimately. I would 
 as soon think of questioning the integrity of 
 George Washington or your beloved Gov- 
 ernor Trumbull of Eevolutionary fame." 
 
 Dana gazed with offensive intensity upon 
 the speaker. 
 
 " I 've no doubt that is your opinion/' — 
 notes of passion vibrating through his reply, 
 — " but who cares what you and men of your 
 ilk think? The kind of patriotism repre- 
 sented by this convention is the kind that 
 would make us bend the knee to England, 
 and submit without complaint to her dam- 
 nable abuses. There ought to be enough 
 Salisbury iron mines in the East to bury the 
 whole crew of Federal traitors, and free the 
 country from their infernal misdoings." 
 
 The street talk of these two men was typ- 
 ical of the current discussion in Hartford and 
 all New England. Neighbor hostile to neigh- 
 bor, families split into contending factions, 
 churches and communities divided and fi^ht- 
 ing a rough war of words, broils in public 
 places, feuds breaking out in private assaults, 
 old-time friends flinging hard names at each 
 other when they passed on the highway, — 
 this was the social condition which prevailed 
 in the East. 
 
220 FBIEND OR FOE 
 
 " Did you see the soldiers circle around 
 the State House to the tune of the ' Rogue's 
 March/ and din their cries of traitor into the 
 ears of the convention ? " cried Dana glee- 
 fully. " It must have been soothing to their 
 spirits." 
 
 There were days when the excitement 
 waxed very hot in Hartford, — when a fear of 
 physical violence filled some hearts. But the 
 sessions of the convention continued in their 
 quiet, well-ordered way, and the delegates 
 refused to see or hear the fanatical hatred 
 which broke forth into public expression. 
 
 It became evident to Gordon after the first 
 days that he was watched. Did he call upon 
 Mr. Cabot or Mr. Otis, did he walk with 
 Mr. Goodrich or Mr. Prescott, did any of 
 the gentlemen pay their respects to him, he 
 was sure to see a distant, suspicious figure. 
 It seemed absurd to the gentleman. Why 
 should a spy dog him ? And #what ends 
 would be gained, for it was impossible to 
 overhear his conversation ? So Gordon con- 
 cluded that it was meant for annoyance. 
 
 The letter promised to Davie was written 
 the second week of the convention, and it 
 spoke of Gordon's return to Fairfield the fol- 
 lowing Saturday. 
 
THE WAB-HAWKS SEIZE A VICTIM 221 
 
 Leaving Hartford before daylight, the trav- 
 eler held his horse down to an easy gait, while 
 he gave free rein to his own thoughts and 
 fancies. 
 
 What a perplexing situation ! Gordon had 
 learned to love the country in which he was 
 passing the years of his young manhood. 
 The poverty, distress, bitterness, hostility, 
 divisions, which he closely observed, were 
 little less than personal to himself. These 
 things ought not to be ; a land with such 
 possibilities, a people cherishing the best im- 
 pulses of their race, facing abuse, disaster, 
 and ruin. 
 
 The peace commissioners had been con- 
 sulting at Ghent these many week's. Gor- 
 don was hopeful that the happy end of war 
 drew nigh ; still, the enmities increased, the 
 difficulties did not seem to lessen, and the 
 way to good feeling faded like a mirage. 
 
 The opposition to this Hartford assembly 
 was a case in point. Here were twenty-six 
 men, — honest, loyal, wise, the peers of the 
 nation's best and bravest, scholars, orators, 
 business men, statesmen, — sons of Revolu- 
 tionary heroes, who had inherited the noblest 
 traditions of self-sacrificing service, sincere 
 and devoted lovers of country, — now mocked, 
 
222 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 satirized, reviled, cursed, threatened, hated, 
 called all the mean and scurrilous names that 
 human ingenuity was able to devise, defamed 
 and execrated like the veriest scum of earth. 
 Did it not make the heart of a true man 
 bleed ? 
 
 And Gordon was reflecting upon the course 
 of the mother country. Here was a people — 
 bone of her bone, flesh of her flesh, asserting 
 the same principles that had given vitality to 
 English civilization these later centuries — 
 suffering shameless cruelty at the hands of 
 the nation which should be closest and dearest 
 to America. What ignoble spirit had seized 
 the mother land, and prevailed in her councils, 
 that her ships should override justice, that 
 her sons should play the bully and maltreat 
 their brothers across the sea, that selfishness 
 and passion should gain the ascendant ? 
 
 The bright sunshine fell athwart the gem- 
 tipped trees, and shed its glory upon vast, 
 beautiful fields of spotless snow, but the 
 traveler saw not the marvelous landscape. 
 The crisp air, the nipping wind, the quiet 
 farmhouses along the road, the scattered 
 villages and towns, — none of these things 
 won his attention. 
 
 There were other thoughts, also, than those 
 
THE WAR-HAWKS SEIZE A VICTIM 223 
 
 which concerned struggling America or over- 
 bearing England, — thoughts upon a home 
 and the little circle that gathered beneath its 
 shelter in Fairfield. 
 
 The traveler rested in New Haven, then 
 pushed toward the setting sun. His mind 
 now turned to boyhood days, and the early 
 struggles. Dark shadows appeared upon his 
 face. As the evening hasted on, and he drew 
 nearer to his goal, there came a change in his 
 expression. He was thinking of little Davie, 
 the spell of whose magic lingered upon him ; 
 of quaint, generous, amusing uncle David ; of 
 Martha, the true child of the North, with her 
 wondrous blue eyes, soft, golden hair, and 
 beautiful shining face, often touched with 
 rare tints of the rose ; of Mary, blithe as the 
 sunshine, her mirthful spirit creeping into 
 telltale eyes, the bewitchment of every mood 
 and motion pressing one into deeper and 
 more helpless slavery. He dreamed his day- 
 dream of happiness over and over again, until 
 all doubt, war, anxiety, trouble, slipped down 
 below the horizon, like the hidden, far-away 
 sun, now set beyond the thick clouds. 
 
 In these hours of reverie and meditation, 
 the traveler had been as one born blind to the 
 world about him. The gathering gloom of 
 
224 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 the night was unnoted. Crossing the ferry 
 of the Ousatonic, he continued the solitary 
 way, still absorbed with his own thoughts, 
 careless of surroundings, simply bent upon 
 the one object of desire. Was his love hon- 
 ored ? Did like enduring passion burn in 
 the soul of Mary Randolph ? 
 
 And these thoughts were the last that 
 haunted him as he plunged through the in- 
 creasing gloom. 
 
 Without one word of warning, unprepared 
 and unresisting, Gordon was thrown from 
 his saddle. Had the horse stumbled? Did 
 some obstacle suddenly present itself? Was 
 it a hand that grasped the bridle and slipped 
 the girth from its place ? The man lay un- 
 conscious by the roadside. 
 
 When he came to himself, thick darkness 
 prevailed. Reaching forth his hands, they 
 touched a rough pallet and the rude wall of a 
 hut. Did he hear low voices, sound of crack- 
 ling wood in some near-by room? Slowly, 
 confusedly, he drifted back into dreamless 
 sleep. 
 
CHAPTER XX 
 
 IN WHICH A MAID RESCUES A MAN 
 
 On Sunday morning Gordon's horse came 
 riderless into Fairfield, and the fact was re- 
 ported to Peyton. 
 
 Frequent quarrels, arising from political 
 animosity, brought in their wake crime after 
 crime. 
 
 " I believe that Mr. Gordon has met with 
 foul play," exclaimed Martha, when she heard 
 the news. " Something ought to be done at 
 once." 
 
 But it was Sunday — winter — and the 
 uncertainty connected with the affair dazed 
 people. 
 
 The horse showed no signs of haste or 
 violence, and his bridle was in its place, the 
 saddle alone being lost. 
 
 " It 's my opinion," said one of the villag- 
 ers, " that when the gentleman stopped at 
 some place his horse grew impatient, and 
 made the rest of the trip by himself." 
 
 " Quite likely, quite likely," was the reply. 
 
226 FRIEND OB FOE 
 
 On Monday, Peyton and a fellow reader 
 from another law office in town started for 
 New Haven. Making inquiries along the 
 way, they traced Gordon through Milford, 
 west of the Ousatonic. He was last seen by 
 a farmer in the gloom of the evening. 
 
 Up and down the highways between Mil- 
 ford and Bridgeport did the young men pass, 
 following every clue, questioning all people ; 
 but the search was fruitless. And this con- 
 tinued five anxious days. 
 
 Down near the edge of the sea, on a point 
 of land thickly studded with a variety of 
 evergreen trees, a rough cabin had once been 
 reared. Buried in this lonely covert, it had 
 long since been deserted, or given over to the 
 free use of stray fishermen. It was built of 
 logs, the cracks and crannies filled in with 
 plaster, the interior being divided into a fair- 
 sized living-room and a bedroom. 
 
 To this obscure retreat Gordon's captors 
 had taken him, and here he spent his days 
 and nights in solitary confinement. 
 
 They gave him food to eat, water to drink, 
 and clothes to shield him from the weather, 
 but he was fastened by strong cords to the 
 old bedstead on which he reclined. No win- 
 dows let the light of day into his dank quar- 
 
A MAID RESCUES A MAN 227 
 
 ters, the only good cheer which came to him 
 being that afforded by a roaring, boisterous 
 fire in the adjoining room, the grateful heat 
 penetrating even to his remote corner. 
 
 His captors talked among themselves quite 
 freely through the night-watches, and while 
 their tones were generally low, so that it was 
 impossible for him to keep the thread of con- 
 versation, yet, in sheer forgetfulness, they 
 often raised their voices, the copious draughts 
 of flip — Gordon heard the hot iron sizz and 
 sputter as it was thrust into heady cider — 
 unloosing the tongues of the men, and mak- 
 ing them careless in speech. 
 
 H I 'm for putting the fellow out of the 
 way ; hanging is too good for him." 
 
 This was the first sentence which the pris- 
 oner heard after his wits returned to him. It 
 might have been a day, two days, a week, 
 since the kidnapping. 
 
 " And run the risk of a murderer's noose, 
 hey ? " huskily whispered a second member 
 of the band. 
 
 " You 're a coward, Sam ! " was the reply. 
 " Do you suppose any Connecticut jury would 
 convict a man of murder while in the act of 
 serving his country a good turn, — walking 
 in the path of plain duty ? " 
 
228 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 Laughter followed the remark. 
 
 "I say take him in the sloop across to 
 Long Island, and put him where he can't do 
 any mischief. I know the men who would 
 hold him in safe keeping." 
 
 " But if he 's an agent of the British gov- 
 ernment, and comes here to foment rebellion, 
 the devil ought to be strung up sky high." 
 
 " Jackson says he 's an out-and-out spy, — 
 worse than John Henry, — a smooth, well- 
 spoken chap, nosing into everybody's busi- 
 ness, hobnobbing with the blanked Federalists 
 of the State, — egging them on to their in- 
 fernal fight against the administration, — hand 
 and glove with all the traitors of the section." 
 
 " Jackson 's not the man to trust in every 
 case," laughed a third speaker. " I 'm half 
 inclined to think that jealousy has more to 
 do with Jackson's hatred of this fellow than 
 politics." 
 
 " Oh, you 're on the fence five days of the 
 week, anyway," was the answer. " A pretty 
 girl can twist you around her finger. If 
 she 's a Federalist," with an oath, " you veer 
 like a weathercock." 
 
 " You lie ! " cried the man addressed. 
 
 " Shut up your quarreling ! " whispered the 
 head of the gang gruffly. 
 
A MAID BESCUES A MAN 229 
 
 There was a dull pain in the head of the 
 prisoner; the dazed condition had not alto- 
 gether passed. 
 
 " I 'm getting tired of staying in this dis- 
 mal hole." These were the first words of the 
 second conversation overheard by Gordon. 
 " They say that men are scouring the country. 
 As like as not they '11 stumble upon this 
 shanty." 
 
 " What if they do ? " was the reply. 
 " They 'd never dare to harm us. The lit- 
 tle game that we are playing would tickle 
 folks." 
 
 " You 're a fool, Sam. Waylaying travel- 
 ers is not a joke that people enjoy." 
 
 " I wish you fellows would say what 's to 
 be done with this sly Britisher. We can't 
 stay here many days." 
 
 " Put him under the ice of the inlet," sug- 
 gested a hoarse voice. " The body will float 
 out with the tide, and we are well rid of 
 dirty rubbish." 
 
 " That 's not a bad idea," exclaimed two 
 of the captors. 
 
 " You may do it, I won't," said the timid 
 member of the party. " I agreed to help 
 take the fellow, but I never bargained to mur- 
 der him. His blood be upon your heads." 
 
230 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 That was all Gordon heard the second night. 
 
 " If you 're going to put him out of the 
 way, get clear of this country," whispered a 
 newcomer on the third night of the captivity. 
 " His friend Peyton and half a dozen men 
 from Fairfield have been riding over the town 
 on their wild-goose chase, and I advise you 
 to haul up anchor and sail away. Peyton, 
 you know, is a very fair sort of a Democrat, 
 but if he thought that any of his Democratic 
 allies in this State had a hand in harming 
 this man Gordon, he 'd raise all the foul fiends 
 to pay for it." 
 
 This comforted the prisoner. If his cap- 
 tors tarried with him in the hut a few days 
 longer, help was sure to come. And that was 
 the burden of his prayer. 
 
 " To-morrow night, with the ebb of the 
 tide." 
 
 Gordon caught the words on this fourth 
 evening of his captivity. 
 
 " To-morrow night, with the ebb of the 
 tide." 
 
 Did it mean that he was to be knocked on 
 the head, then pushed underneath the ice, 
 then float out, an ugly, repulsive corpse, into 
 the sea ? 
 
 He gave the cords which held him a vicious 
 
A MAID RESCUES A MAN 231 
 
 wrench, but they simply pressed their torture 
 the deeper into his flesh* 
 
 The jollity in the other room increased with 
 the rise of the wind. It was a rough night, 
 for a thaw had set in, and the rain pelted the 
 low roof with pitiless riot. 
 
 " Here 's to the consternation of the infa- 
 mous Hartford Convention," shouted one of 
 the revelers. 
 
 " Here 's to the damnation of its members, 
 traitors to their native land." 
 
 There was a sharp clicking of glasses. 
 
 " Here 's to the glory of the American 
 navy." 
 
 " Here 's to the infernal regions with every 
 English ship which sails the seas." 
 
 Laughter, groans, more clicking of glasses, 
 the shuffling of feet, boisterous, indistinguish- 
 able talk. 
 
 Half an hour later, a significant hush stole 
 through the cabin. The eastern storm still 
 beat against the shivering timbers with cruel 
 force, the gale sounding its wild, weird min- 
 strelsy through the restless forest and across 
 the high heavens. 
 
 Did the unruly sprites of the air shove 
 open the outer door and chase each other 
 with mock anger through the mean hut? 
 
232 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 Hark ! had one of the revelers awaked 
 from his debauch and pushed within the 
 room where Gordon lay bound hand and 
 foot, a sleepless, watchful captive ? 
 
 The man was startled by a stealthy footfall 
 near his side. Peering into the shades, he 
 saw a form limned against the dim light 
 which crept through chinks of the partition. 
 
 A hand touched his face. 
 
 Did it mean that one of his captors had 
 chosen this hour to dispatch him ? Was he 
 to be strangled, and the body committed to 
 the flowing tide ? 
 
 He might shout, but who would hear his 
 cries ? The captors. 
 
 He longed to fight, and make them pay 
 dear for his life, but they had bound him as 
 with steel. 
 
 The brave, silent prisoner held his breath 
 while the tempest whistled and frolicked 
 around the lonely cabin in the woods. 
 
 Suddenly a sense of freedom came to Gor- 
 don. Had the cords upon his wrists been 
 cut ? He tried to lift his arm, and it yielded 
 to his volition. Oh, blessed release ! 
 
 The second arm was free, and he raised it 
 to his face. 
 
 Silently the ghostly helper worked. 
 
A MAID RESCUES A MAN 233 
 
 The cords which held his limbs dropped 
 from their accustomed places, and his whole 
 body felt the rush and surge of the blood 
 pumped into the long-obstructed channels of 
 abounding life. 
 
 " Follow me," whispered a low, sweet voice. 
 
 Swinging upon his feet, stretching himself 
 for a moment, that he might master his un- 
 used members, Gordon swiftly followed his 
 mysterious saviour to the door between the 
 rooms. Glancing for a moment upon the 
 snoring, drunken crew lying carelessly in 
 close quarters near the fire, the two shadowy 
 forms passed quietly across the floor, and 
 emerged into the welcome fury of the storm, 
 where another comrade awaited them. 
 
 Hastening through the swaying, creaking 
 forest, they stumbled against Sambo, in 
 charge of Gordon's horse. 
 
 " Heah, Mista' Gordon, jump into de sad- 
 dle," and the gentleman was in his place on 
 the instant. " And let my missus ride on de 
 pillion ; and you jess leave de lady at de fust 
 fa'mhouse on de right. We'll walk home," 
 pointing to the unknown lad by his side. 
 
 What cared Gordon for the pelting rain ? 
 It refreshed every nerve, muscle, sinew, of the 
 body. 
 
234 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 What cared a free man for tumultuous 
 winds ? They jested with him, and sported 
 like lads let loose from school. 
 
 " You are to make for Fairfield with all 
 speed/' said the lady on the pillion. 
 
 Was music ever sweeter in man's ears than 
 the words of his mistress? They had not 
 been face to face in the light, — his rescuer 
 was closely shielded by an old military cloak 
 which she chose to fling across her person ; 
 but could that voice deceive him ? 
 
 " And must I leave you in the gloom of 
 yonder farmhouse ? " 
 
 " I am staying with a friend," was the re- 
 ply. " It was she that planned the rescue." 
 
 " Thank God for brave, true women ! " 
 exclaimed Gordon, with fervor. 
 
 " Mr. Peyton will care for you when you 
 reach the tavern. The storm has drenched 
 you, and bondage leaves you worn and dis- 
 traught. Hasten to shelter and the good 
 offices of your friend ! " 
 
 Gordon tried to turn in the saddle, that be 
 might, perchance, look into the face of his 
 deliverer, but fortune did not favor him. 
 
 The rain and the wind gathered fresh vio- 
 lence, driving mercilessly against the travel- 
 ers, the horse splashed and stumbled through 
 
A MAID RESCUES A MAN 235 
 
 the slush and snow, the black sky shut down 
 threateningly upon them, yet two happy peo- 
 ple sat close together upon the wet back of 
 a restless, fiery steed, making an uncertain 
 way through the blinding storm. 
 
 They halted at the farmhouse. Gordon 
 leaped from the saddle, and the girl sprang 
 into his arms. It was a great temptation, for 
 the winds had tossed the military cloak one 
 side, and her dim face was exposed. 
 
 She turned from him and faded into the 
 shades of night and the tempest, but not 
 until the vague light revealed Martha Kan- 
 dolph. 
 
CHAPTER XXI 
 
 A RUDE EXCHANGE OF COURTESIES 
 
 The hours dragged a halting way through 
 the night, while Peyton watched and waited. 
 At three o'clock in the morning a solitary 
 horseman emerged from the raging storm, 
 the stable-boy pushed open the great barn 
 door for his coming, the rider slipped into 
 the arms of his anxious friend. 
 
 Gordon was soaked to the skin, shivering 
 with cold, and more dead than alive. The 
 great fire in Peyton's room, needed restor- 
 atives, dry, warm clothes, and the tender 
 services of his friend kindled anew the half- 
 quenched flame of life. 
 
 " Why, man, look at your wrists and your 
 ankles. What have your captors done to 
 you?" 
 
 " They bound me fast to the rickety old 
 high-posted bedstead that had been left in 
 the shanty. These are the marks of my 
 bonds," examining the red, raw circles. 
 
 " They did n't try to torture you ? " 
 
A RUDE EXCHANGE OF COURTESIES 237 
 
 u Oh, no," was Gordon's reply. " They 
 left me severely alone. I don't know what 
 they had decided to do with me in the end ; 
 but I imagine that my stay in the hut was to 
 have reached its finale this very night. I 
 heard talk about the flow of the tide and a 
 going away." 
 
 " You take it with your habitual calm and 
 self-restraint," exclaimed Peyton, gratitude^ 
 indignation, and a sense of humor struggling 
 for mastery as he spoke. 
 
 " Well, what matters it, now that the thing 
 is passed ? Jackson is two or three thousand 
 miles to the southwest, but he seems to have 
 a long arm. He 's the ingenious contriver of 
 the kidnapping." 
 
 It was close upon day when Gordon fell 
 asleep, Peyton still sitting before the merry 
 fire, dropping off into feverish, frequent naps. 
 
 With the coming of the morning, the men 
 bestirred themselves. 
 
 " My adventure must not be taken seri- 
 ously by the townspeople," remarked the 
 escaped prisoner. " We will speak lightly of 
 it, — a sort of practical joke. Some of these 
 Yankees, you know, are passing fond of 
 tricks." 
 
 When Gordon appeared, many inquiries 
 
238 FBIEND OR FOE 
 
 were made, but he refused to tell the story, 
 calling it, in his good-natured way, one of 
 the incidents accompanying the heat of war 
 and politics. 
 
 The very day of his return, a letter, bear- 
 ing the Washington postmark, was read off 
 for Peyton at the office, the neighbors ex- 
 changing views upon the frequency with 
 which such letters came to the gentleman 
 from Virginia. 
 
 " Now, this is unfortunate," exclaimed 
 Peyton. They had made their way to the 
 Hardy s'. " I must go to Hartford, when I 
 ought to stay in town so that we could kill 
 the fatted calf, and feast over the coming 
 back of our friend." 
 
 " Oh, can't you wait ? " cried Davie. " Do 
 let us have a little party." 
 
 The storm had ceased, the sky was clear, 
 and Martha, home from her night with the 
 Stratford friend, beamed with the radiancy 
 of her new joy. 
 
 "I 'm sorry to appear obstinate," — smiling 
 upon the boy, — " but it 's not a matter of 
 choice. I must go. I '11 get to New Haven 
 this evening, and push ahead early to-morrow 
 morning." 
 
 It was all mysterious, — Gordon's stay in 
 
A RUDE EXCHANGE OF COURTESIES 239 
 
 Hartford during the first days of the conven- 
 tion, and his strange disappearance ; Martha's 
 sudden visit to Stratford, and the escape of 
 the gentleman ; Mary's troubled, nervous 
 manner, Peyton's unexpected start for the 
 northern city, — the general air of evasion, 
 restlessness and uncertainty. 
 
 Peyton set forth half an hour before sunset. 
 
 There was so much ill blood at this period 
 in New England that the odium and malice 
 connected with strife in politics did not abate, 
 and men resorted to many strange devices in 
 order to carry their point. 
 
 The meeting of the Hartford Convention, 
 its close sessions and spirit of reserve, the 
 railing accusations brought against it by the 
 administration's stanch supporters, the dark 
 outlook for peace, and the suspected treachery 
 of men high in state counsels, — these things 
 intensified bitter personal feelings, and drove 
 hot-headed partisans into many rash acts. 
 
 Peyton was thinking of these things and 
 his letter from Washington, as he made his 
 way toward New Haven. 
 
 Having crossed the Ousatonic, he had taken 
 a slow gait, and given himself over to think- 
 ing out his plans. He must remain in Hart- 
 ford until the convention ended; then he 
 
240 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 was to hasten on to Washington with his re- 
 port, meet certain men connected with the 
 government, and, after a few days, return to 
 Connecticut. 
 
 Absorbed in his affairs, the traveler sud- 
 denly awakened to the fact that he was 
 escorted by half a dozen well-mounted horse- 
 men, and that they were all pointed for the 
 shore. Giving his bridle a strong pull, Pey- 
 ton attempted to turn about and get back 
 upon the turnpike, from which he had been 
 so mysteriously diverted. 
 
 " You are riding with us, my friend," said 
 the gentleman nearest to him, catching hold 
 of his hand, and pressing against the animal 
 which bore him. " We have started you on 
 a pleasant excursion ; no violence is intended. 
 We long for your society ; you will come with 
 us!" 
 
 The tone was one of authority, and some- 
 thing in the speaker's manner made Peyton 
 feel that rough measures impended as a last 
 resort, if resistance followed. 
 
 " Well," observed the Virginia cavalier, 
 with as good a grace as he was able to com- 
 mand, " I '11 make a virtue of necessity, and 
 go with you." 
 
 " That 's a wise decision," remarked the 
 
A RUDE EXCHANGE OF COURTESIES 241 
 
 leader. " We know you, Mr. Peyton ; we like 
 our Southern cousins. Don't think you're 
 fallen among cut-throats. We'll treat you 
 like a gentleman, if you quietly bear us com- 
 pany." 
 
 What was the use of fighting, under the 
 circumstances ? The careless visionary had 
 been surrounded by armed men, six to one ; 
 it was night, the road unknown and lonely, 
 help far away, and winter brooded over the 
 landscape. 
 
 The men watched Peyton with lynx eyes. 
 A mouse shut into close quarters with hungry 
 feline enemies stood an equal chance of escape. 
 
 They reached the cove, hastily dismounted, 
 sprang into a rowboat, and pushed for a 
 schooner, which faintly outlined itself against 
 the western sky. 
 
 " We have been told that you are fond 
 of sailing," said the spokesman of the party 
 jocosely. " It is not the best time for plea- 
 suring on the sound, but this air is better for 
 you than that of Hartford." 
 
 The meaning of it flashed through Pey- 
 ton's mind. The Democrats had kidnapped 
 Gordon. Some Federal bucks — the men 
 were young, stalwart, lively — had set upon 
 him in retaliation. The absurdity of the 
 
242 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 thing first struck him. What good did either 
 party think might come through such a trick ? 
 He had done all in his power to ferret out 
 the mystery of Gordon's capture. His friend 
 would do the same for him. 
 
 But a second thought flitted through his 
 mind. Doubtless the captors of Gordon be- 
 lieved him an English informer, sent into the 
 Eastern States to watch the trend of events. 
 This was Jackson's story, which he had never 
 ceased to repeat, — an accusation that Gordon 
 did not take the pains to deny. The history 
 of John Henry was familiar. While Gordon 
 was a different kind of man, yet the credu- 
 lous were ready to swallow whatever the mas- 
 ters put down their 'throats. 
 
 It also occurred to Peyton that there were 
 men in Connecticut who did not look with 
 favor upon himself. More than one Federal- 
 ist had called him mean names, twitting him 
 with telling tales upon his New England 
 friends, turning the sweet courtesies of social 
 life into base and treacherous uses. Was not 
 the young gentleman a neighbor of Madison's, 
 and did not the President now and again 
 take the pains to write him a letter ? 
 
 There was a fair breeze, so that the schooner 
 made good time, albeit Peyton was shut into 
 
A RUDE EXCHANGE OF COURTESIES 243 
 
 the little cabin, where he spent a night and a 
 day. 
 
 The evening after this sail down the sound, 
 a quartette of men rowed the blindfolded 
 prisoner ashore, where a sleigh and horses 
 carried the party inland a score of miles. 
 
 When the bandage was taken from Pey- 
 ton's eyes, his escort had disappeared, and 
 three brothers held him in their charge. 
 
 These men were thrifty farmers, living in 
 bachelor's hall, served by two faithful slaves 
 of the old regime. 
 
 In the morning Peyton noted the close 
 watch put upon him by his jailers, — that 
 was to be expected, — but the look of fear or 
 pity that lurked in their eyes puzzled him. 
 What did it mean ? 
 
 " I don't suppose you '11 give me any satis- 
 faction if I ask you why I am banished to 
 this place," remarked Peyton, addressing the 
 elder of the brothers. 
 
 " Did you rest well ? " was the answer. 
 " We 've just set up our new Franklin stove 
 in the room where you slept. Folks ain't 
 used to them things everywhere, Mr. Beebe." 
 
 " Mr. Beebe ! " exclaimed Peyton, with a 
 look of annoyance ; " my name is n't Beebe, 
 it's Peyton." 
 
244 FBIEND OR FOE 
 
 The man smiled indulgently, and winked 
 at Prime, the whites of whose eyes grew large 
 until the small black specks of the eyeballs 
 disappeared. 
 
 " Had enough to eat this morning, Mr. 
 Beebe?" 
 
 " I tell you my name is n't Beebe. It 's 
 Peyton. Half a dozen of your Eastern gen- 
 tlemen seized me night before last while on 
 my way to Hartford. I supposed a man had 
 a reasonable assurance of safety in this so- 
 called Land of Steady Habits." 
 
 " Anything we can do to make you com- 
 fortable, Mr. Beebe, we 're in duty bound to 
 do." 
 
 Peyton knit his brow, for he was angry; 
 then he laughed in a joyless, unnatural way, 
 and began to pace up and down the room. 
 
 They were all kind and attentive, every- 
 thing necessary for good living was supplied 
 in abundance, and little done to cross him, with 
 the exception that he was faithfully guarded, 
 and they all insisted in calling him Mr. Beebe. 
 
 One evening he stole into the kitchen and 
 tried to talk privately with old Prime. 
 
 " Ever been South ? " 
 
 u My old Missus bringed us all de way 
 from Virginny." 
 
A RUDE EXCHANGE OF COURTESIES 245 
 
 The fellow shivered as he spoke, and eyed 
 Peyton as some poor, helpless brute might eye 
 a panther on the point of springing upon him. 
 
 " You need n't be afraid. I won't harm 
 you," said the stranger good naturedly. " Vir- 
 ginia 's my home. That 's where I was born 
 and bred." 
 
 Prime gazed curiously upon the speaker, 
 fear giving way to interest in the words of 
 this quiet-spoken, handsome, commanding 
 gentleman. 
 
 " Yo' don't talk like a Yankee," whispered 
 the man of color. 
 
 " Why, the devil, of course I don't. How 
 can I ? I never saw Yankee land until I went 
 to the Litchfield law school. Who told you 
 to call me Beebe ? " 
 
 It suddenly dawned upon Peyton that these 
 men in bachelor's hall believed him to be 
 crazy. 
 
 Several days passed in which he tried to 
 see Prime alone, but the opportunity evaded 
 him. The new year opened fresh, clean 
 pages of life's book, and still Peyton lingered 
 in absurd, vexatious confinement. 
 
 At length there came a chance for talk 
 with the old slave, which Peyton improved 
 in asking questions about the lay of the land, 
 
246 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 the distance from New York, the best roads 
 of the section, the horses kept by his jailers, 
 the peculiar habits of the brothers, and 
 other important matters. 
 
 Prime had evidently reached the conclusion 
 that there was something crooked about the 
 seclusion of Mr. Beebe, as the farmer brothers 
 called him ; but the old slave was not the man 
 to turn against his masters. He would do all 
 in his power to make the strange gentleman 
 easy and contented, cooking as only Prime 
 could practice the wondrous art, waiting upon 
 him with unwearied faithfulness. 
 
 Peyton discovered that the slave was incor- 
 ruptible ; no hope of release came from that 
 quarter. 
 
 But a plan had already been formed in the 
 supposed lunatic's mind. 
 
 It was the evening after his talk with 
 Prime that Peyton massed all his conver- 
 sational powers, and entertained his jailers 
 hour after hour with such a flow of narrative, 
 anecdote, reminiscence, that they were en- 
 chained and delighted. Long, long past 
 their time of usual rest, he held them by 
 the charms of speech. It was on toward the 
 morning that they yielded to exhaustion, 
 two of them stumbling reluctantly to bed, 
 
A RUDE EXCHANGE OF COURTESIES 247 
 
 while the third took the usual place of watch 
 in Peyton's chamber. 
 
 But the fire in the Franklin stove was hot 
 and prostrating. The watcher's eyes grew 
 dreamy. Peyton appeared wrapped in slum- 
 ber. The watcher's head fell heavily against 
 the high back of the chair in which he re- 
 clined. The man slept soundly, his breast 
 heaving with a regularity that suggested 
 hours of sweet repose. 
 
 Peyton was quick in action under the pres- 
 sure of circumstances. Springing into his 
 clothes, he stole quietly through the house, 
 and hastened to the barn, with which he had 
 become familiar, where he soon put saddle 
 and bridle upon the best horse of the stable, 
 and was off toward the east in order to give 
 his pursuers a false scent when they started 
 on the chase. 
 
 At the end of a mile he turned abruptly 
 about and chose another road which Prime 
 had told him led to the main turnpike run- 
 ning into New York. 
 
 Peyton was in high feather. The farm- 
 house had afforded the fat of the land; re- 
 freshing sleep, nourishing fare, and solitude 
 adding daily vigor to his frame. No money 
 rattled in his wallet, and the way before 
 
248 FB1END OR FOE 
 
 him was unknown, but Peyton had hunted 
 through the forests and mountains of old 
 Virginia to good purpose. Trust him for 
 picking a straight road. 
 
 The horse cantered over familiar places 
 with easy gait. By and by the speed was 
 increased. As the dawn drew on apace, Pey- 
 ton urged him to faster speed. It was not 
 good traveling, snow, ice, frozen earth, and 
 rough stones interfering with rapid progress ; 
 still the happy traveler made fair haste. 
 
 When the sun crept out from behind the 
 clouds that banked the eastern sky, the dull 
 landscape lighted up for an hour, and then 
 heavy shadows settled down upon nature. 
 
 " It looks like snow," remarked Peyton 
 to himself. " But I am well on toward 
 Brooklyn." 
 
 He never stopped for food or drink. He 
 must get the East Kiver between himself and 
 his rustic jailers ; then all danger was passed, 
 for it seemed like searching for a needle in 
 a haystack, the trying to find a man in the 
 great city on Manhattan Island. 
 
 It began to snow, and the blinding flakes 
 annoyed him. 
 
 " Brooklyn can't be far distant." 
 
 He was galloping over a much traveled 
 
A RUDE EXCHANGE OF COURTESIES 249 
 
 road, and there were many signs of a thickly 
 settled country. 
 
 " Hey, man, don't run a fellow down/' 
 shouted a voice in the thick of the storm. 
 
 Peyton turned aside to avoid the huge cart 
 lumbering along before him. 
 
 " How far is it to the ferry ? " 
 
 " A good three mile," was the reply, as 
 Peyton plunged ahead into the thickening 
 snow. 
 
 " Now, what under heavens shall I do with 
 this fine animal ? " 
 
 He did not tarry to give himself an an- 
 swer, for the sound of swift approaching 
 riders warned him that danger might be near. 
 Urging the horse to the top of his speed, 
 Peyton dashed recklessly into the obscure be- 
 yond. The muffled sounds of pursuing feet 
 struck his ears over and over again. 
 
 On pressed his steed in the true spirit of 
 chase, barely slipping past dimly seen perils, 
 knocking against a wagon, a foot traveler, or 
 some other vague obstruction. 
 
 At last the dim lines of houses showed 
 themselves, and Peyton abruptly darted into 
 a side street, making the wearied horse step 
 gently in the way. A faint noise of human 
 voices and horses' footfalls mingled in the 
 
250 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 air, then the silence of the soft, down-coming 
 snow shut in around him. 
 
 Peyton made a slow way to the ferry, 
 walked on to the boat, and watched it shove 
 off for the hither shore. 
 
 At this opportune moment the owners of 
 the borrowed steed hove in sight. 
 
 " I '11 send your horse back," shouted Pey- 
 ton merrily. " I 'm obliged for the use of 
 him. He 's a fine animal." 
 
 The answer was lost in the flurry of snow. 
 
 On reaching the New York side, Peyton 
 started for the City Hotel, but while walking 
 blindly up Broadway, he came into sharp col- 
 lision with a little gentleman whose courteous 
 apologies and familiar features revealed no 
 less a person than Colonel Burr. 
 
 " Now, this is curious," exclaimed Peyton. 
 " I 'm looking for a man to loan me money 
 enough to go to Fairfield." 
 
 The name of the beloved town acted like a 
 charm. 
 
 " Come to my office, and the help shall be 
 granted. Meanwhile you may tell me what 
 you like, and we '11 spend an hour in friendly 
 chat." 
 
 The old-time fascination of manner lin- 
 gered ; there was the same grace and geniality. 
 
A RUDE EXCHANGE OF COURTESIES 251 
 
 Peyton had seen the man in Kichmond 
 when on trial. As a child he recalled many 
 a kind word spoken to him by the gentleman 
 — Burr was fond of children — on the streets 
 of Washington. 
 
 " The stage-coach runs on Mondays, 
 Wednesdays, and Fridays," observed the 
 colonel. 
 
 " Yes, I 'm well posted on the Connecticut 
 coaches/' said Peyton laughingly. " I 've 
 spent a good portion of three years in the 
 Land of Steady Habits." 
 
 " I see that you hail from the South." 
 
 " I 'm a Virginian," was the proud answer. 
 
 " With presidential aspirations ? " '"■ Burr 
 smiled sarcastically. It was known that he 
 did not approve the policy which choose all 
 the presidents from one State. 
 
 They entered the house which Burr had 
 fitted up for office and home. The story of 
 Peyton's ride was soon told, particulars in 
 respect to his capture and confinement being 
 withheld. 
 
 " Why, man, you must be famished ! " 
 exclaimed the colonel. 
 
 A hearty dinner, dry clothes, stimulating 
 potations, and the witty, brilliant talk of the 
 host put Peyton in a merry humor. What 
 
252 FRIEND OB FOE 
 
 stories of Fairfield people were reeled off to 
 the delight of this listener so strangely picked 
 up in the storm ! What bright, jolly remi- 
 niscences crowded upon the telling ! The 
 colonel was inimitable as a raconteur. Every 
 odd person, absurd frolic, wild adventure, 
 curious event, known thirty years before was 
 dressed in fantastic colors, and made to do 
 homage on the stage of memory for the en- 
 tertainment of these two men. Family ghost 
 stories, the weird traditions of early witches, 
 incidents that compromised well-known indi- 
 viduals, — a wonderful assortment of fact and 
 fancy woven with the skill peculiar to Aaron 
 Burr, — these were the diverting subjects 
 of that never-to-be-forgotten afternoon and 
 evening. 
 
 " You know I 'm related to half the fam- 
 ilies in Fairfield, so I can speak with freedom 
 and knowledge. And I never spare a story 
 for relation's sake." 
 
 " And I suppose your treasury contains the 
 like rich material gleaned in Litchfield ? " 
 
 " Yes, I had my fair measure of sport and 
 happiness in the hill-top village/' And the 
 colonel launched into fresh recitals. 
 
 Peyton left New York early the next 
 morning. 
 
CHAPTER XXII 
 
 THE PEACE CONVENTION AND THE STRIFE 
 OF SOULS 
 
 Gordon made a second visit to Hartford 
 during the sessions of the convention, choos- 
 ing the stage-coach as a safer means of travel. 
 
 Going to Ripley's tavern, he inquired for 
 Peyton, and was told that the gentleman had 
 not been seen in the place. Hartford boasted 
 a population of four thousand people, so it 
 did not require many hours to satisfy Gor- 
 don that his friend had not reached the little 
 city. 
 
 While searching the taverns and the pri- 
 vate boarding-houses for some traces of the 
 man, a mysterious scrawl was put into his 
 hands, which read to the effect that Peyton 
 had turned one side by the way. What did 
 it mean ? The remembrance of his own re- 
 cent experience suggested that something of 
 the kind might have befallen Peyton ; but 
 sober second thought insisted upon the folly 
 of it. 
 
254 FRIEND OB FOE 
 
 The evening that Mayor Goodrich enter- 
 tained the members of the convention, Gor- 
 don was favored with a view of the company. 
 They were a venerable body of men, honor 
 and wisdom, dignity and culture, manifest in 
 their speech and bearing. 
 
 They all wore full-skirted coats, black silk 
 waistcoats, black cloth breeches, black silk 
 stockings, and black shoes. Their white 
 heads, the hair falling upon their shoulders, 
 or tied into a queue with black ribbon, their 
 intellectual, noble faces, lighted up with the 
 great purposes which moved them to their 
 public service, their courtly manners, and 
 lofty mien stamped them as the worthy repre- 
 sentatives of New England. 
 
 What did it signify to these men that 
 Jemmy Lamb, the town crier, with his little 
 company of United States troops walked 
 around the State House to the tune of the 
 " Rogue's March," or that somebody displayed 
 the flag of the Union at half mast the first 
 morning of the convention, to express, as 
 they said, sorrow for the depravity of these 
 men plotting the destruction of American 
 liberty ? And were these chosen agents of 
 the commonwealths to be diverted from duty 
 because, forsooth, a few raw recruits of the 
 
THE PEACE CONVENTION 255 
 
 army ran up the American flag at headquar- 
 ters, putting the British flag beneath it at 
 half mast, or tramped through the streets with 
 reversed arms and muffled drums ? Were 
 men like the mayor of Hartford or the sen- 
 ator from Connecticut and their compeers 
 faint hearts to mind a funeral chime tolled 
 on the bell of the Baptist meeting-house for 
 their annoyance ? 
 
 " Mr. Cabot reminds me of Washington," 
 remarked young Samuel Goodrich to Gordon. 
 " What a stately carriage ! How command- 
 ing in his person ! " 
 
 " He 's a great authority on political econ- 
 omy, I am told." 
 
 " Yes ; and look at Mr. Prescott. I like 
 his face. Beyond him is another Massachu- 
 setts man, Mr. Longfellow, a fine scholar and 
 jurist. Do you think him handsome ? " 
 
 So the young men observed different mem- 
 bers of the company, Goodrich taking pains 
 to instruct his hearer upon the shining vir- 
 tues of the various delegates. 
 
 " You have not told me how you enjoyed 
 actual service in the militia," said Gordon. 
 
 " Oh, we made a fine appearance when we 
 left town and hurried to New London. Our 
 new cocked hats, long-tailed blue coats with 
 
256 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 red facings, white pantaloons, and shining 
 cutlasses excited the envy of all the country 
 lads ; but the service became dull and monot- 
 onous. I was glad when the company had 
 orders to go home." 
 
 " Think of calling the men gathered under 
 your uncle's roof ' hellish conspirators ' I " 
 pointing to the delegates engaged in social 
 amenities. 
 
 Goodrich smiled derisively as he answered 
 the remark made by his friend : — 
 
 " I read the other day that they were so 
 wicked as to aim a dagger at the vitals of 
 their already bleeding country." 
 
 " Well, the convention has excited great 
 hopes and great fears." 
 
 " Yes, it 's an object of love to some people, 
 and hatred to others." Goodrich was silent 
 a moment. " Have you read 'Childe Harold's 
 Pilgrimage ' yet ? " 
 
 "Yes," was Gordon's reply, "and it's 
 aglow with the fire of youth and passion." 
 
 " Our Connecticut scholars dreamed that 
 the Muses had come to tarry with us a few 
 years ago, when the Hartford wits flourished, 
 but it was all a dream. The atmosphere of 
 polite letters is not made to order. I'm 
 thinking of going to Europe, if this war 
 
THE PEACE CONVENTION 257 
 
 ever ends, and public affairs take the right 
 drift." 
 
 Gordon and Goodrich had enjoyed a plea- 
 sant acquaintance for several years, having 
 tastes and friends in common. 
 
 " A man would think, on reading some of 
 the Democratic papers these days, that Hart- 
 ford was like a seething caldron the time 
 that these gentlemen have been quietly dis- 
 cussing affairs of state." 
 
 " I looked for Peyton in town," answered 
 Gordon irrelevantly. " He started for Hart- 
 ford days ago. It 's not like him to leave 
 us in the dark concerning his plans. He 's 
 been talking about going to Washington and 
 Virginia. I can't make out why he lingers 
 here in the North when he is such an ardent 
 patriot, and so often expresses the wish to 
 enlist as a soldier." 
 
 Goodrich hesitated before making a reply. 
 
 " There 's been some rough horse-play be- 
 tween the young Federalists and Democrats 
 of our State, the past months. But then, 
 Peyton 's popular with us, and I can't believe 
 anybody would harm him." 
 
 A few days later, the Hartford Conven- 
 tion adjourned sine die, and the delegates 
 hastened to their homes. Gordon rode with 
 
258 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 Mr. Sherman to Fairfield. The first man to 
 greet them as the stage-coach halted before 
 the tavern was Marshall Peyton. 
 
 " Come, give an account of yourself," said 
 -Gordon, delighted to set eyes upon his friend. 
 
 " I changed my plans," answered the gen- 
 tleman, shifting his position and gazing to- 
 ward the sea. " I 've been to New York." 
 
 There was something in the tone of his 
 reply which perplexed the questioner; but 
 Gordon was not the man to insist upon ex- 
 planations. 
 
 They were sitting with little Davie and the 
 sisters in uncle David's study, a few hours 
 later. 
 
 "And you spent the night with Colonel 
 Burr ? " The animated face of Mary Ran- 
 dolph was beaming upon Peyton. 
 
 " Yes, and he entertained me charmingly 
 with stories of you Fairfield folk, and remi- 
 niscences of Litchfield. The truth is, I never 
 spent a merrier night than the one when I 
 was his guest." 
 
 " But you do not tell us how the other 
 days were passed." 
 
 Martha's remark implied an interrogation. 
 
 " No," said Peyton, with provoking 
 drollery, " that 's my secret." 
 
THE PEACE CONVENTION 259 
 
 " Oh, tell it to me, please/' cried the child. 
 " Remember what a good fortune I gave 
 
 you!" 
 
 But the mystery of his absence did not 
 clear. 
 
 The Hartford Convention was the chief 
 theme of conversation on every side. The 
 peace party became hopeful that the dele- 
 gates appointed to carry its resolutions to 
 Washington would make a strong and favor- 
 able impression upon the government; but 
 the war party continued their most rancorous 
 assaults upon the men connected with the 
 movement. 
 
 Fort Union, at Black Rock, was garrisoned 
 by the little company of local militia, the 
 men having recently been supplied with new 
 muskets, bayonets, cartridge boxes and belts, 
 camp kettles, tin pans, rope, frying-pans, tin 
 cups, pickaxes, and pails ; Mr. Abraham Ben- 
 son acting as assistant commissary, and fur- 
 nishing the good prime beef and pork, and 
 other food. This renewed activity on the 
 part of the town militia showed that the pro- 
 spects for peace were not the best, although 
 the national commissioners had been treat- 
 ing with British statesmen at Ghent for 
 months. 
 
260 FRIEND OB FOE 
 
 One day Peyton made bold to question Mr. 
 Sherman, one of the conspicuous members 
 of the Hartford Convention, in respect to its 
 character and purpose. The gentleman's 
 statements were frank and lucid. 
 
 "As soon as the convention was organ- 
 ized/' said the honorable member, " Mr. Otis, 
 a delegate from Massachusetts, proposed, 
 after some prefatory remarks, that we should 
 recommend to our several legislatures to pre- 
 sent a petition to the Congress of the United 
 States, praying that they would consent that 
 the New England States, or so many of them 
 as should agree together for that purpose, 
 might unite in defending themselves against 
 the public enemy; that so much of the 
 national revenues as should be collected in 
 these States should be appropriated to the 
 expense of that defense ; that the amount so 
 appropriated should be credited to the United 
 States; and that the United States should 
 agree to pay whatever should be expended 
 beyond that amount." 
 
 Peyton listened with the closest attention. 
 
 " This was approved by the convention. 
 The same views had been stated here before 
 the meeting of the delegates. By the Con- 
 stitution of the United States, no such com- 
 
JUDGE ROGER M. SHERMAN 
 
* • « 
 
THE PEACE CONVENTION 261 
 
 pact for mutual defense could be formed 
 without the consent of Congress." 
 
 " Yes, I remember it," said Peyton. 
 
 " By thus augmenting our immediate re- 
 sources, and obtaining the national guaranty 
 that the expenses of the war, to be increased 
 by the States thus uniting, should ultimately 
 be paid out of the national treasury, it was 
 supposed that our credit as well as our pre- 
 sent pecuniary resources would be enhanced." 
 
 " I follow the line of thought." 
 
 " A debate was also had in the convention 
 as to certain amendments to the Constitution 
 of the United States to be proposed for adop- 
 tion by the state legislatures." 
 
 Peyton bent forward his head in his anx- 
 iety to catch the very inflections of the 
 speaker. 
 
 " One was that Congress should not have 
 power to declare war without the concurrence 
 of two thirds of both Houses. A committee, 
 of which I was a member, was appointed to 
 draw up the report to present to their respec- 
 tive legislatures. The proposal of Mr. Otis 
 was adopted with little variation. It was 
 recommended to the legislatures represented 
 in the convention to adopt measures to pro- 
 tect the citizens from such conscriptions or 
 
262 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 impressments as were not authorized by the 
 Constitution of the United States." 
 
 " May I ask a question that will possibly 
 seem brutal in its candor ; one that has been 
 suggested by the drift of public opinion in 
 many parts of our country ? " 
 
 " Certainly," replied Mr. Sherman, with 
 his characteristic sincerity and kindness. 
 
 " Was the object of the convention to 
 embarrass or paralyze the government of the 
 United States in the prosecution of the war 
 with Great Britain ? " 
 
 " No ! " was the earnest, indignant answer ; 
 and the majesty, the truthfulness of the man 
 smote rebukingly upon the ears of the ques- 
 tioner. " Its principal object was a more 
 effectual cooperation in the war as to the 
 defense of the New England States." Mr. 
 Sherman waxed eloquent in his brief, honest 
 statement of the case. " There is not the 
 slightest foundation for impugning the mo- 
 tives of these men, or stamping the proceed- 
 ings of the convention as treasonable." It 
 was impossible to doubt the word of this 
 noble apologist or advocate. " The delegates 
 never contemplated an act inconsistent with 
 their obligations to the United States." 
 
 Far into the night, Peyton's lively quill 
 
THE PEACE CONVENTION 263 
 
 sped across and across the paper as he pieced 
 together his story of the Hartford Conven- 
 tion ; ending the account with a fervent wish 
 for honorable peace, and a generous expres- 
 sion of faith in the integrity of the men who 
 were members of it. 
 
 On the following day, the bulky letter was 
 dispatched to Washington. 
 
CHAPTEK XXIII 
 
 THE PURITANS AT THEIR FIRST BALL 
 
 The sloop Favorite entered the harbor of 
 New York Saturday night, February the 
 eleventh, and Henry Carroll, one of the secre- 
 taries of the commission, carried news of the 
 treaty of peace to the City Hotel. Half an 
 hour later, bells were ringing in the church 
 spires, and lights flaring merrily in the windows 
 of nearly every house, the streets resounding 
 with the cry, " A peace ! A peace ! " 
 
 On Sunday morning, expresses rode in all 
 directions carrying the glad tidings. 
 
 Monday, Mr. Samuel Goodrich took coach 
 for New Haven, and while the mail was being 
 changed at Fairfield, late in the afternoon, 
 he espied Gordon and Peyton at the tavern. 
 
 " A great day, my friends ! " shouted the 
 young Federalist. " New York went wild on 
 yester Sabbath. All the country is aroused. 
 I 've never seen anything like it. Our ride 
 has been a perpetual ovation, hundreds upon 
 hundreds flocking to the taverns, and asking 
 
THE PURITANS AT THEIR FIRST BALL 265 
 
 all news, saying it 's too good to be true, — 
 gone daft in their frenzy of jubilation." 
 
 " Yes, yes, we 've caught the spirit I " ex- 
 claimed Peyton hilariously. " The town, you 
 see, is awake and lively." 
 
 The crowd surged about the stage, and 
 assailed every passenger with questions. 
 
 " How about the gentlemen sent to Wash- 
 ington by the convention?" whispered Gordon. 
 
 " They '11 be swallowed up in the mael- 
 strom of rejoicing, I suppose," was the reply. 
 " But the essential thing is peace, and it has 
 come." 
 
 " Well," observed Peyton thoughtfully, 
 edging away from the riotous throng of men 
 and boys surrounding the coach, and taking 
 Gordon and Goodrich with him, " can you 
 tell us anything about the terms ? " 
 
 " Not a word," was the reply. " I doubt 
 if anybody has stopped to think or ask. The 
 joy of the people is a sight to see ; I suppose 
 it 's enough that a treaty of peace has been 
 signed, for it means a fresh start to every- 
 thing in the land, — business, commerce, in- 
 dustry, prosperity, — all that 's dear to the 
 American heart." 
 
 It was truly, as Mr. Goodrich said, a great 
 day. The government stock rose ten per 
 
266 FBIEND OR FOE 
 
 cent, in New York and Philadelphia. As 
 the news spread through the land, schools 
 were dismissed, legislatures adjourned, busi- 
 ness suspended ; guns multiplied their salutes, 
 while men, women, and children made the 
 sky ring with acclamations. 
 
 The treaty was approved in a few days, 
 being declared the law of the land on Feb- 
 ruary the eighteenth. 
 
 The citizens of Fairfield chose the twenty- 
 fifth of the month as the day for their cele- 
 bration. 
 
 The years of bitter feud and cruel assault 
 had passed. Old friends, who could not in- 
 vent harsh enough terms with which to pelt 
 each other, now met in amity and goodwill. 
 Families broken into hateful factions were 
 reunited. Federalist and Republican clasped 
 hands as brothers. Political differences seemed 
 all forgotten, the growing lion of Democracy 
 lying down with the still robust lamb of Fed- 
 eralism. 
 
 Peace gave a new turn to the private 
 affairs of Gordon and Peyton, the one hurry- 
 ing to New York and Philadelphia the second 
 day after Goodrich's ride through town, the 
 other setting to himself the task of winding 
 up his business in Connecticut. 
 
THE PURITANS AT THEIR FIRST BALL 267 
 
 Gordon visited New Bedford, New London, 
 Stonington, and New Haven before a return 
 to Fairfield. Peyton packed his books, sport- 
 ing outfit, and wearing gear, wrote numerous 
 letters, and paid all bills ; then spent a good 
 measure of his spare time with his friends 
 the Hardys. 
 
 While everybody rejoiced in peace, little 
 Davie and his sisters were oppressed by a 
 stealthy fear. The day of Peyton's going 
 drew rapidly near, while it became evident 
 that Gordon was now to be looked upon 
 simply as a bird of passage, flitting hither 
 and thither in connection with his commercial 
 interests, which must now take the large por- 
 tion of his time. 
 
 They were present at the peace celebration, 
 and made their last day in town one long to 
 be remembered. 
 
 Early in the morning of the twenty-fifth, 
 the soldiers at Fort Union fired a Federal 
 salute, answered by Colonel Gershom Burr's 
 artillery, which had been placed on the vil- 
 lage Green. This discharge of guns was the 
 signal for a gathering of the people. 
 
 " Did you ever see such a crowd in the old 
 town?" said Mary, as she observed the streams 
 of humanity converging on the parade ground. 
 
268 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 It was still winter, people being forced to 
 stand the rigors of typical New England 
 weather ; but gratitude and hope, stirring 
 within the heart, broke through all barriers. 
 
 " The procession starts from Fort Union 
 at ten o'clock," said Martha. " The tavern 
 will be so packed with sightseers that we 
 shall lose our chance unless we hasten." 
 
 The young folks were to gaze upon the 
 gay scene from a window reserved for them. 
 
 " There they come ! " shouted Davie, after 
 their party had, with sore difficulty, made a 
 way to their standing-place. " Look at the 
 men ; you can't see the end of the proces- 
 sion." The child craned his neck in order 
 to take a long view of the show. 
 
 " Our citizens make a fine appearance, 
 don't they ? " Mary referred to the shining 
 faces quite as much as to the Sunday clothes. 
 
 " Hurrah for the soldiers ! " exclaimed 
 Davie, " they 're next in line. See how 
 proudly they hold their muskets, and how 
 they tramp, tramp, with a firm step; and 
 they 've all put on their new cocked hats." 
 
 With stately tread the troops passed on. 
 
 " And what is this ? " 
 
 The snow was falling, so that the parade 
 was suddenly dimmed. 
 
THE PUEITANS AT THEIR FIRST BALL 269 
 
 " It 's a boat," answered Mary ; " they 've 
 set it on runners. How beautifully they 've 
 trimmed it. There 's the red, white, and 
 blue, there 's the Union Jack, there 's the 
 flag of Spain, and France, and Italy, and 
 Portugal, — why, they must have gathered all 
 the colors of the nations ; and there are one, 
 two, three, four," counting aloud, " thirty of 
 our youth drawing the handsome emblem." 
 
 " And look," cried Davie, pointing in the 
 opposite direction, " there comes another 
 pretty craft, and there are as many lads 
 drawing it." 
 
 The two brightly adorned boats met in the 
 street before them, and right merry were 
 their salutations. 
 
 "Ship ahoy!" 
 
 « Who are you ? " 
 
 " Whither bound ? " 
 
 " How many days out ? " 
 
 Back and forth the words were flung with 
 jest and repartee, the throngs of onlookers 
 cheering their best and bravest. 
 
 The strains of martial music sounded high 
 above the din of human voices; there was 
 ringing of bells and firing of guns; huzzas 
 reverberated through the town, militiamen 
 and citizens, women and children, men of all 
 
270 FRIEND OB FOE 
 
 classes, political faiths, and conditions filling 
 the streets. It was a pageant which boldly 
 faced a nipping air and the whirling snow- 
 flakes. 
 
 " Shall we crowd into the meeting-house, 
 and hear Mr. Humphrey's address ? " Gor- 
 don asked the question. 
 
 " No, for Martha and I must go to the 
 court house, and help set the feast," replied 
 Mary. 
 
 It was an eloquent speech which the young 
 minister delivered, and his hearers sat uncom- 
 plainingly through the cold hour, but many 
 sighs of relief were heaved when the service 
 of thanksgiving ended ; people were free to 
 pass up and down the crowded streets, or 
 linger in jolly companies on the Green and 
 in the taverns. 
 
 The procession re-formed after leaving the 
 meeting-house, marching about the town, that 
 everybody might have a fair view of the rare 
 show, coming to a final halt in front of the 
 great ox that was roasting for their entertain- 
 ment in the open air on the west side of the 
 court house. 
 
 How the huge creature steamed and sizzled 
 as the fires leaped upon him, and the winds 
 seasoned the cooking with falling snow ! 
 
THE PUBITANS AT THEIR FIRST BALL 271 
 
 What jestful, hungry throngs stood watching 
 the curious process, as the master of this bar- 
 becue thrust his great knife and fork into 
 one side of the creature that he might test 
 the quality of the feast ! 
 
 The second story of the court house was 
 the scene of wildest merry-making. Gordon 
 and Peyton, waiting upon the young ladies 
 and lending a helpful hand, had made their 
 way into the good graces of the entire com- 
 pany. No need of formal introductions on 
 such a day, when hearts were too full for 
 mere conventionality. 
 
 " I never suspected that you New Engend- 
 ers had so much geniality in your constitu- 
 tions," remarked Peyton to Miss Mary as they 
 set the tables in order for the five hundred 
 privileged guests. " Why, it 's as free among 
 you to-day as in old Virginia. Such hospi- 
 tality gives me a real home feeling." 
 
 " Oh, we Northern folks have hearts if you 
 are shrewd enough to find the way into them. 
 Now, Mr. Gordon, you shall sit with the dig- 
 nitaries at this table," pointing to the place 
 set apart for the ministers, the lawyers, the 
 militia officers, the town, state, and national 
 makers or executors of the laws, " ami Mr. 
 Peyton shall keep you company. Martha 
 
272 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 and I must wait on the table. We '11 see 
 that you are well supplied with food." 
 
 It was a prodigal feast, and while the 
 gentry and the notables enjoyed the generous 
 bounty spread for them within the court 
 house, the masses shared the roast ox and the 
 liberal viands passed to them out in the open, 
 beneath the curtain of the snow-bestrewn air. 
 
 All day long there was vast hilarity, the 
 happy maidens of the town serving their 
 gay swains, not only with the dainties which 
 their skill had evolved from generous ovens, 
 but with kind or teasing speeches, willful or 
 enticing glances, — the infinite, trivial play 
 of courtship. 
 
 At sunset there was another Federal salute. 
 
 When darkness shrouded the noisy, crowded 
 village, thousands upon thousands of candles 
 cast their light into the streets. Every house, 
 shop, store, and public edifice was brilliantly 
 illumined, each window-pane graced with a 
 tallow dip or a sperm light, — the white, crisp 
 snow enhancing the beauty and brightness of 
 the scene. 
 
 " Why, it 's like fairyland ! " cried Davie, 
 looking wistfully into the night, longing to 
 be one of the boys running madly adown the 
 street in the freedom of this wonderful even- 
 ing frolic. 
 
THE PURITANS AT THEIR FIRST BALL 
 
 ^73 
 
 On the Green, the men had planted a tall, 
 slender tree, nailing long cross-pieces upon 
 it, from the ground to the top. On the end 
 of each transverse stick a tar barrel was 
 fastened, the whole making a ludicrous par- 
 ody of nature. When these tar-besmeared 
 objects were set on fire, the light flared into 
 the heavens like some awful conflagration. 
 Shouts upon shouts of admiration filled the 
 air; the restless, jubilant multitude surged 
 over the Green as the tides came sometimes 
 rolling in across the low-lying salt meadows 
 along the shore. 
 
 The illumination ended at nine o'clock, 
 and sober, methodical citizens wended their 
 weary way home. 
 
 But the chief event of the celebration was 
 to follow. A grand ball had been arranged 
 in the hotel, and many a Puritan youth and 
 maiden was to taste for the first time this 
 alluring and forbidden kind of gayety. 
 
 " I said that I should go to a ball when I 
 had the chance," explained Mary mischiev- 
 ously. " We shall never celebrate another 
 peace, I warrant you, and the gentlemen say 
 there is no harm in it. Then mother is won 
 over, and Mr. Gordon has her permission to 
 escort us." 
 
274 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 This was the way that the blithe, audacious 
 sister persuaded Martha. 
 
 The ball-room was adorned with bunting, 
 worked into gay symbols of state, a few por- 
 traits of Revolutionary heroes, and multitudes 
 of flags, so that bare walls shone resplendent 
 witli all the colors of the rainbow. 
 
 The hundreds of candles shedding their 
 lustre upon the scene, and the great fire- 
 places heaped high with sea driftwood, which 
 threw brilliant, beautiful lights into the room, 
 and the shifting, mirthful throngs of people, 
 so pressing upon each other that dancing was 
 impossible, strangely fascinated the Puritan 
 sisters. 
 
 All gentle whisperings of conscience were 
 lost in girlish delight over the glamour of 
 this scene. The fashion, splendor, elegance, 
 of the costumes worn by the ladies passed 
 their wildest dreams, for people had delved 
 down into old chests and brought forth the 
 riches of generations, decking themselves in 
 priceless silks from China or velvets from 
 the looms of France, adding exquisite laces, 
 graceful plumes, gold chains and breastpins, 
 sparkling diamonds, quaint jewels, — all the 
 treasured family keepsakes used for personal 
 adornment through ages. 
 
THE PURITANS AT THEIR FIRST BALL 275 
 
 " Why, child, how beautiful you are ! " 
 exclaimed Gordon, with sudden enthusiasm, 
 as he gazed upon Martha Randolph standing 
 beneath the dazzling chandelier in the centre 
 of the room. 
 
 She had chosen a pale blue silk for her 
 dress-stuff, brought long years ago to her 
 mother by Captain Jennings, on his return 
 from the Celestial Empire. It was a short- 
 waisted, full-skirted gown, cut low in the 
 neck, but her fair shoulders were covered 
 with fold upon fold of rare old lace, extend- 
 ing to her very throat. Long gloves met the 
 flowing sleeves above the elbows. A Grecian 
 knot gathered her amplitude of golden hair, 
 a glittering bauble of Moorish workmanship 
 being fastened to one side of it. Her dainty 
 white slippers were trimmed with blue ro- 
 settes, into which were thrust jeweled pins, 
 heirlooms of the Randolph family. 
 
 Gordon was pointing out to Miss Martha 
 the various devices suggested by his own 
 brain or wrought with his deft fingers. 
 
 " You are a very good American," observed 
 the girl, smiling with cordial praise as one or 
 another emblem was admired. 
 
 " You have not said one word to me since 
 we entered the ball-room," exclaimed Mary, 
 
276 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 with assumed petulance and vexation, as she 
 stood by Gordon's side. 
 
 " How . could I," was the answer, " when 
 Peyton was lavishing his wonderful powers 
 of conversation upon you ? " 
 
 The two gentlemen were dressed in the 
 height of fashion, — blue cloth coats, knee 
 breeches to match, with bright silver buckles, 
 white silk stockings, and black pumps, Gor- 
 don wearing a scarlet brocaded waistcoat, 
 and Peyton a yellow one ; both men having 
 beruffled bosoms and waist-bands and high 
 white throat kerchiefs, their hair tied with 
 black ribbons and showily powdered. 
 
 Peyton followed every look and motion of 
 the young woman leaning upon his arm, and 
 there were many observers who turned to 
 gaze upon the sweet vision. 
 
 Mary had chosen a soft, creamy silk for her 
 dress. It was made in the Empire style, like 
 one seen by a friend at the French minister's, 
 in Washington. There was a great deal of 
 fine, filmy lace used in the trimming of it, 
 the delicate webs winding thickly about her 
 shoulders, neck, and throat, half concealing a 
 necklace of pearls falling upon her breast. 
 Her arms were bare from the elbows down, 
 as shapely and beautiful as one ever saw. 
 
THE PURITANS AT THEIR FIRST BALL 277 
 
 Her slender feet were encased in white slip- 
 pers, the pink silk of her stockings observable 
 as she pushed a little forward on the floor. 
 The Grecian knot of dark hair was adorned 
 with three tips of white plumes, held in their 
 place by a small golden dagger with spar- 
 kling gems in the hilt. 
 
 How the beauty and splendor of these 
 old family jewels delighted the soul of the 
 wearer ! Her eyes sparkled with a brighter 
 glory, her face shone with a lovelier radiance, 
 than any which streamed from golden orna- 
 ment or lustrous bauble. 
 
 " I promised to teach you how to dance a 
 minuet, but who can trip the light fantastic 
 toe in such a crowd as this ? " 
 
 Gordon addressed Martha, but his eyes 
 were fixed upon her sister. 
 
 "Are you speaking to me?" inquired Pey- 
 ton laughingly. " I see that you look my 
 way." 
 
 It was to Miss Mary that Gordon's eyes 
 did homage. 
 
 An hour later these two young people 
 watched the lingering play of light as deli- 
 cate flames shot forth from the fast-dying 
 fire on the Green. The window where they 
 tarried looked down upon the fantastic pic- 
 
278 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 ture. Peyton and Miss Martha had drifted 
 to the farther end of the ball-room. 
 
 It was not what Gordon said so much as 
 the tone in which he spoke that startled 
 Mary. A subtle intuition warned her. An- 
 other moment, and he might utter words that 
 would bring infinite pain. The struggle was 
 swift, decisive. 
 
 " Mr. Gordon, you must not forget your 
 promise to my sister." The spell was broken. 
 " She will not permit Mr. Peyton to instruct 
 her in the arts of Terpsichore. Do you not 
 see that she awaits your coming ? " 
 
 They pressed through the company. Gor- 
 don, taking his dismissal as quietly as it had 
 been given, paid court to Martha. 
 
 While Gordon taught Martha the minuet, 
 Peyton led her sister back to the window 
 where she had stood earlier in the evening 
 gazing out upon the cold, brilliant winter 
 scene. 
 
 " The happiest days of my life have been 
 spent in New England," said the gentleman, 
 with a fine ardor of tone and manner, far 
 more significant than language. " I came 
 to this Land of Steady Habits with strange 
 prejudices. But I have learned to esteem 
 these reserved, opinionated, energetic citizens 
 
THE PUBITANS AT THEIR FIRST BALL 279 
 
 of the Republic. My stay in the North has 
 taught me many lessons. I believe that I 
 understand the New England character as 
 few of my Southern brethren do." 
 
 "But you '11 never make a New Englander," 
 interrupted Mary, with charming grace, " your 
 speech bewrayeth you." 
 
 " I 'm not thinking of such a metamorpho- 
 sis." Peyton laughed. " I 'm thinking how 
 we may transplant a New Englander into the 
 South, and watch the change which will be 
 wrought by our freer ways, our delicious cli- 
 mate, our flowers and birds, and sunsets, and 
 associations." 
 
 " We are a restless, migratory folk, still we 
 love our dear New England." 
 
 " And I love " — with sudden fire of pas- 
 sion like the flash of lightning from a cloud 
 lying close by the horizon. 
 
 The sentence was unfinished, a rude inter- 
 ruption on the part of merry-makers sweeping 
 the young people back into the current of 
 life. 
 
CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 " HERE 's TO NEW ENGLAND " 
 
 After the ball, Gordon invited Peyton to 
 sit with him before the glowing fire in the 
 privacy of his room. The steaming punch, 
 the wreaths of fragrant smoke, the song of 
 blazing wood, invited confidences. 
 
 " I suppose the curtain now drops upon the 
 last scene of our stay in this old town." 
 
 Peyton was sad. He had not recovered 
 from the shock given him in the ball-room. 
 
 " Don't take it to heart, my friend. We 
 are bound to meet in coming years. Our 
 ways will cross a thousand times, and this 
 Connecticut that we have learned to love will 
 be a meeting-place on many an occasion." 
 
 There were long pauses in their talk ; the 
 gentlemen seemed lost in reverie. 
 
 " I shall come back here in a few weeks, 
 Gordon. I have a presentiment that Jackson 
 will now appear in town. The glorious vic- 
 tory at New Orleans — a fight, by the way, 
 which has redeemed all the blunders of our 
 
HERE'S TO NEW ENGLAND 281 
 
 men — will render him absolutely unendur- 
 able. What a pity that the fellow could n't 
 have been shot, so that his sun would have set 
 in a cloud of glory ! As it is, he '11 return 
 to New York, go on with his law, pester our 
 friends the Hardys, play the very deuce in 
 society, and come to some bad end." 
 
 " A man ought n't to be so blue and 
 down-hearted after such a day and night of 
 hilarity, Peyton." 
 
 The interview of the evening had turned 
 the mind of Peyton toward Jackson. Puff 
 after puff of smoke diffused itself through 
 the room, while the gentlemen observed the 
 antics of the fire on the hearth. 
 
 " Gordon, I came to New England with the 
 feeling that this freezing climate was actually 
 an exponent of the people who live in it. My 
 prejudices were absurd, and they 've scattered 
 to the four winds of heaven. I used to think 
 that * Yankee ' was a name for everything 
 mean and sharp in trade, offensive and in- 
 hospitable in manners, conceited and over- 
 bearing and hateful in spirit. Why, I have 
 seen as much hospitality among these folks 
 as among my own kith and kin. To be sure, 
 their manners are peculiar, but they 're really 
 a large-hearted people, — kind and sympa- 
 
282 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 thetic as you'll find in all the world. Of 
 course, they're what is called 'sot in their 
 opinions/ but so are we Southerners. I 've 
 made up my mind that a New Englander is, 
 perhaps, as good as a Virginian. There 
 was a time when I believed that they were 
 tediously religious, going to church, or meet- 
 ing as they say, every day in the week and 
 twice on Sunday, and never kissing as we do 
 in the South ; I 've been told there 's a ' Blue 
 Law ' about it. But heavens, what nonsense 
 we get into our heads ! Did you ever see a 
 jollier company than celebrated here to-day ? 
 And I caught half a dozen bucks hugging 
 and kissing the pretty girls. Here 's to New 
 England and the New Englanders ! " 
 
 The two gentlemen were on their feet in 
 an instant, clinking their glasses, and drink- 
 ing: the toast with enthusiasm. 
 
 " Well," said Gordon, as they settled back 
 into their chairs, " your experience has been 
 like mine. I came to this country with the 
 feeling that I was to find no congenial spirits 
 among the people. I represented the London 
 West Shipping Company, and money was our 
 object. We expected to squeeze it out of 
 these narrow, crafty, ambitious provincials. 
 But you know the embargo and the war, with 
 
HEBE'S TO NEW ENGLAND 283 
 
 their endless complications, played the deuce 
 with business/' — the speaker sent fresh 
 wreaths of smoke sailing through the air 
 before he continued, — " and I was forced to 
 linger here in order to save what did n't rot 
 at the wharves or fall into the clutches of 
 privateer smen, and, by Jove, I 've learned to 
 like the country and the people. I think I '11 
 become a citizen." 
 
 Confidence begets confidence. While these 
 men were the most loyal friends, a certain 
 reserve had always marked their relations. 
 The peace treaty now unsealed their lips. 
 
 " I came to New England, not only preju- 
 diced against the people, but with the aim to 
 pry into their secrets. I was suspicious, and 
 so was the national administration. I wanted 
 to find out what disaffection existed here, — 
 whether these States really desired to with- 
 draw from the Union and form an independ- 
 ent confederacy, or go back to colonial de- 
 pendence upon Great Britain. I was never 
 so chagrined and disappointed in my life. 
 Taking the greatest pains to mingle with the 
 citizens, going repeatedly to the principal 
 New England cities, keeping in touch with 
 several of the politicians to whom I had 
 letters, saying little and hearing a great deal, 
 
284 FRIEND OR FOB 
 
 I have never detected anything like treason 
 to the Union since I came into the Land of 
 Steady Habits. If there is one public man 
 whom I have learned to believe, esteem, and 
 love, it is our Mr. Sherman, here, — the 
 genial, dignified, noble spirit, the broad- 
 minded and highly-gifted statesman. I take 
 his word for it, that even the Hartford Con- 
 vention was utterly devoid of any purpose 
 to embarrass the nation ; that it was what 
 it claims to have been, — a meeting to de- 
 vise means for help in the dark hour of 
 extremity." 
 
 Gordon sprang to his feet, reached forth 
 his hand, and clasped Peyton — who had like- 
 wise risen from his chair — in a warm, manly 
 embrace. 
 
 " Why, man, you 've been through an- 
 other experience similar to mine." They 
 were seated again, and Gordon was talking. 
 " I came here looking for sedition and dis- 
 loyalty. You see it made a vast difference 
 with the plans of my company what might 
 be the feelings of New Englanders on the 
 subject of war. I was expected to try the 
 pulse and temperature of these people. Al- 
 though John Henry was an adventurer, and 
 President Madison threw away fifty thousand 
 
HERE'S TO NEW ENGLAND 285 
 
 dollars and gained nothing worth naming, 
 yet I knew Henry, and he made me believe 
 that New England was ready for actual re- 
 volt ; that her citizens longed for a return to 
 the protection of the mother country. Had 
 this been true, it would have advantaged the 
 company which I represented. But, Peyton, 
 the better I learned this people the more 
 highly did I esteem them. Admitted, at last, 
 to the confidence of the leaders in New Eng- 
 land, I became profoundly convinced that 
 these States had no more idea of joining with 
 England than they had of setting up a mon- 
 archy among them; that they were just as 
 loyal to true republicanism as Virginia or 
 New York; that it only needed judicious 
 management and actual invasion by a hostile 
 nation to make the skies of New England 
 ring with huzzas for the United States of 
 America. These wise, matter-of-fact, thrifty 
 people are sons of liberty ; they love country, 
 righteousness, God, with singleness of heart. 
 It 's a damnable lie to call them traitors ! " 
 
 In the vehemence and sincerity of the 
 speaker, he struck the table such a blow 
 that the glasses jumped nervously, while the 
 bowl of punch tipped jovially to one side, 
 and jostled the glasses, as much as to say, 
 
286 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 " Here 's to my New England, still loyal and 
 true ! " 
 
 The merry diversions of the day, the good 
 fellowship, and the cheerful, boisterous fire 
 on the hearth, the spirit of manly love, bind- 
 ing these two men into noble relations of 
 fraternity, — all these things induced a frank- 
 ness of confession, a f reeness of speech, such 
 as does not often mark the comradeship of 
 men. They were reposing sacred confidences 
 in each other, revealing the inmost secrets of 
 life. 
 
 " It 's very curious how the tenor of my 
 reports have changed from month to month," 
 continued Peyton. "But I have told a story 
 that was as true to the facts as it was possible 
 for me to tell it. All the bitterness, the hos- 
 tility, of the opening chapters have turned to 
 a fair, just, clear statement of existing con- 
 ditions. It has not been altogether pleasing 
 to the men that have trusted me. But I 
 have asked them repeatedly whether they 
 wished the truth or a highly colored, fanciful 
 caricature. I have their word for it that 
 they seek the plain facts, and I, at least, have 
 tried to picture for them the exact feeling 
 and purpose of the New England States." 
 
 " Peyton, you 're an honest, high-minded 
 
HERE'S TO NEW ENGLAND 287 
 
 gentleman. I thank you for the confidence 
 you show me, I esteem you for the righteous 
 course which you have pursued, for I suppose 
 it was in your power to add fuel to the fires 
 of sectional passion and hatred. More than 
 all, I love you for what you are, — as true 
 and brave a soul as lives to-day." 
 
 The men had risen to their feet again; 
 they stood face to face, their expression that 
 of lofty faith and deep affection. 
 
 " My friend," — there was a quivering of the 
 lips, a moistening of the eyes, as Peyton 
 spoke, — " forgive me if I ever for one moment 
 cherished a mean, cruel suspicion. Jackson 
 tried to sow the seeds of distrust in my mind, 
 but long ago every vestige of them disap- 
 peared. I never believed you to be the man 
 who would worm himself into the regard and 
 confidence of the Americans in order that 
 you might betray us to old England." 
 
 Gordon walked back and forth in front 
 of the hearth, then looked down upon his 
 friend, who had thrown himself into his 
 chair. 
 
 " I came here," said Gordon, speaking in 
 slow, measured, serious way, " thinking there 
 was something to be done for England, — 
 and possibly for New England. I was left 
 
288 FBIEND OR FOE 
 
 free. My connections in the mother country 
 were such that what I said or did had influ- 
 ence — widespread influence. There were 
 men ready to profit by the turn of public 
 affairs in this land. Peyton, I was drawn to 
 these people the first years of my stay among 
 them. Each year endeared them to me. It 
 was partly because they welcomed me with 
 such kindness to their homes, for I had never 
 felt the thrill of glad and peaceful home life, 
 and it was partly because I discovered some- 
 thing in the character of these people on the 
 western side of the sea which appealed to me 
 with great force. I will be as frank with 
 you as you have been with me, and our 
 mutual confidences shall be hidden forever 
 away from all mortal eyes. It was in my 
 power to fan the flames of international ha- 
 tred and bitterness. My opportunities were 
 many to do the services for England which 
 meant the further crippling and harassment 
 of this fair land. There came the temptation 
 to engage in that which would bring me 
 large emolument and ultimate honor in my 
 native land, enabling me to attain the station 
 and power for which I one time longed. 
 Peyton, it was no temptation. My heart was 
 with this people in America. I have never 
 
HERE'S TO NEW ENGLAND 289 
 
 said or written a word that would compromise 
 me in the eyes of a just American citizen. I 
 have done all in my power to win peace 
 between England and the United States. 
 My letters to the company that I am serving, 
 my letters to friends and statesmen across 
 the sea, have been, without exception, earnest, 
 heartfelt endeavors to bind the two nations 
 together in the relations of amity and mutual 
 service." 
 
 The glow upon the speaker's face, the sin- 
 cerity and enthusiasm of his tone, the splen- 
 did manliness of his bearing, added nothing 
 to the force of conviction which his words 
 carried to the heart of Peyton. 
 
 " The time is coming," was the answer, 
 " when the better understanding shall pre- 
 vail; when North and South, England and 
 America, true lovers of freedom shall be one 
 in heart and mind." 
 
 The morning dawned, and Peyton was on 
 his way to Washington and Virginia, not 
 certain that the warmest greetings awaited 
 him; not even sure that on his return to 
 Connecticut such welcome as he hoped for 
 would gladden his soul. 
 
CHAPTER XXV 
 
 THE CRUISE OF THE ROSE 
 
 Jackson reached New York the latter part 
 of April, tarrying long enough to meet old 
 friends, put his affairs into good shape, and 
 consult with Colonel Burr. It was the first 
 of May when he reentered Fairfield, carrying 
 the honors of his Southwestern campaign in 
 a lordly way. 
 
 A few days later, Gordon invited Mrs. Ran- 
 dolph, the sisters, and Davie to go with him 
 on a schooner to Stonington and Newport, 
 thinking that such a trip would hasten the 
 boy's recovery, and make a pleasant outing 
 for the girls. 
 
 The weather had become warm, almost 
 sultry, the air being laden with the fresh 
 odors of spring, so that the four days upon 
 the sea, undisturbed by rough winds or chill 
 storms, passed quickly in their delightful 
 peace and freedom. 
 
 " Jackson did not seem in the best humor 
 when he sailed for New York." Gordon 
 
THE CBUISE OF THE ROSE 291 
 
 addressed Miss Martha, as their ship glided 
 swan-like through the waters. 
 
 " I have watched the man closely in his 
 recent visits to our home, and, Mr. Gordon, 
 I not only put no confidence in him, but I 
 believe that he would stoop to all trickery, 
 resort to crime itself, in order to gain his 
 ends. I don't see why uncle David admits 
 him to the house." 
 
 One evening they were anchored in the 
 harbor of New London. The clouds, banked 
 against the west in long sierras of golden, 
 roseate splendor, had fired the imagination, 
 and made all the company dream beautiful 
 fancies of far-away, glorious realms. When 
 it grew too chill for sitting upon deck, they 
 had withdrawn into the cabin, where they 
 lingered over a cup of tea. 
 
 " This has been a day such as Peyton 
 loves," said Gordon. " He will come North 
 when free to follow his impulse." 
 
 " Mr. Peyton has seen the President, I 
 don't know how many times," piped Davie 
 proudly. " And one day he took dinner with 
 him, and he wrote us all about the lovely 
 Mrs. Madison, and how she stayed in the 
 White House when the British were coming, 
 until she had to run, carrying away George 
 Washington's picture." 
 
292 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 " The sweet, brave Quaker mistress is a 
 charming hostess/' replied Gordon. " I 've 
 heard many tales of her hospitality and kind- 
 ness." 
 
 " Mr. Peyton has asked me to visit him on 
 his Virginia plantation, and then I shall see 
 these great folks, for they live in his county, 
 you know." 
 
 " He 's a grand man, Davie " — 
 
 " Yes," interrupted the child, " he saved 
 my lif e, and I love him, — we all love him, 
 don't we, Mary ? " gazing eagerly, inquiringly 
 into his sister's face. 
 
 " Why, Davie, we love everybody that does 
 you a kindness ; how can we help it ? " 
 
 " But Captain Jackson is very kind," con- 
 tinued the boy. "Did you ever hear such 
 stories ? I love to hear him talk about the 
 war and the Indians, and the British, the 
 swamps, night attacks, the brawny Kentuck- 
 ians, our great General Jackson. But I don't 
 like Jackson. When he looks me through 
 and through, I shiver. Was Captain Jackson 
 next to General Jackson in the battle of New 
 Orleans ? I think he must be almost as great 
 a man." 
 
 Gordon laughed heartily. 
 
 " Taking him at his own valuation, he is 
 the general's equal, if not his superior." 
 
THE CRUISE OF THE ROSE 293 
 
 The motion of the boat betokened a rising 
 of the wind. 
 
 An hour later, when the child had fallen 
 asleep, the ladies paced the deck with Gor- 
 don, enjoying the bracing air, the swish and 
 break of waves tossing the schooner, and the 
 swift-moving clouds, as the moon hid behind 
 them or thrust them one side and pushed into 
 the open. 
 
 Late at night, as Martha was lying sleep- 
 less in her berth, listening to the moaning of 
 the winds and the regular pacing of Gordon 
 on the planks above, her keen ears caught 
 the sound of muffled oars. The moon was 
 now withdrawn to dark hiding; not a star 
 shed its dim light upon the waters; thick 
 darkness shrouded the lonely, fearsome scene. 
 
 For three years the Sound had been the 
 arena of war, a place where hostile fleets 
 threatened the peace of towns, and terrorized 
 the small craft engaged in trade and com- 
 merce. Such a condition of things not only 
 fostered a spirit of adventure, — a packet 
 running between New London and New York 
 during these years never missed a trip, steal- 
 ing in and out of the harbor in the gloom of 
 night, — but it bred crime, leading to thiev- 
 ery, revenge, secret assaults upon proscribed 
 men, brutality, and murder. 
 
294 FRIEND OB FOE 
 
 It was months after the war before the 
 Sound assumed its former aspect of a secure 
 and pleasant waterway between flourishing 
 and ambitious seaports, for wicked men still 
 haunted its bays and inlets, averse to a quiet, 
 honest life, having learned to prey upon their 
 fellows. 
 
 There were many stories of these predatory 
 foes current among the shore people, sus- 
 picion often being directed toward doubtful 
 characters known to all their neighbors. 
 
 When Gordon left New York, he carried 
 with him a large amount of gold with which 
 to pay the workmen engaged in repairing the 
 vessels owned or employed by his company. 
 A portion of this money still rested in his 
 cabin, although he had paid out goodly sums 
 that day in New London. 
 
 The sound of muffled oars startled the 
 wakeful Martha, and she sprang from her 
 berth to the porthole, thinking that she might 
 pierce through the darkness and solve the 
 mystery of the approaching boat. Cruel 
 tales of robbery came to mind. Was it possi- 
 ble that some one had learned concerning the 
 bags of coin concealed in the cabin of their 
 schooner, and now was stealing upon them 
 with fell purpose ? 
 
THE CRUISE OF THE ROSE 295 
 
 The impact of the waves upon the keel, 
 the whistling of the winds, and the creaking 
 of the ship made it difficult to distinguish the 
 fall of an oar, but there came to her again 
 the peculiar muffled sound, although the thick 
 night shut out any vision of oncoming boat. 
 
 " It will be foolish to awaken mother or 
 Mary," she said to herself. " It may be a 
 stray sailor in trouble, — lost in the uncer- 
 tainty of the dark." 
 
 She flung her garments upon her, and 
 listened at the porthole, thinking that she 
 heard hoarse whispers. 
 
 " I '11 creep on deck, and speak to Mr. 
 Gordon," continuing her speechless mono- 
 logue. 
 
 He had taken his place as watch a part of 
 each night since leaving Black Rock Har- 
 bor. 
 
 Her head was thrust above the companion- 
 way as the gentleman passed by in his solitary 
 tramp. 
 
 " Mr. Gordon ! " 
 
 The low, suppressed tones were heard 
 above the din of the night, and he stopped 
 suddenly in his walk. 
 
 " What is it, Miss Martha ? " 
 
 " I 'm sure that a rowboat approaches off 
 
296 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 the larboard side, and I fear mischief. The 
 times are still unsettled, you know." 
 
 Gordon hurried across the deck, leaned 
 over the gunwales, and tried to see into the 
 inky blackness beyond. 
 
 The girl stood one moment in listening 
 attitude, then plunged across the vessel to 
 the larboard side. 
 
 The sound of blows and groans, an indis- 
 tinguishable call for help, a wild wrestling 
 and awful fall, — these things smote upon 
 her ears. 
 
 A scream which seemed to drive through 
 every part of the schooner, a shrill, piercing, 
 agonizing cry was heard, and then followed a 
 confused, awful medley of noises, the quick 
 discharge of pistols, a mighty scurrying of 
 feet. 
 
 Gordon's sailors rushed to his rescue, Mary 
 Randolph and little Davie climbed wildly 
 upon deck, and called through the terror of 
 the affray, but the awful gloom of the night 
 hid the sight of hideous onslaught from their 
 eyes. 
 
 Suddenly Miss Mary was seized by brawny 
 arms and dragged toward the bow, but the 
 child was by her side on the instant, fighting 
 the shadowy miscreant with all the vicious 
 
THE CRUISE OF THE ROSE 297 
 
 fury of a maddened animal, biting, scratch- 
 ing, tripping, pounding with might and main, 
 so that the man stumbled and fell prone, 
 carrying the two with him in the melee. A 
 stab, a moan, and Davie relaxed his hold, 
 lying silent as the grave, while Mary, with 
 redoubled frenzy, tore the man's hair, dug 
 into his eyes, and finally gripped him about 
 the throat with such vise-like force that the 
 fellow loosed his hold, and she slipped from 
 his clutches into the darkness. 
 
 When Martha ran to the side of Gordon, 
 it was to find him already assaulted by dim, 
 shifting forms crowding over the side of the 
 schooner. A mighty blow had sent one of 
 the party tumbling into the sea, and Gordon, 
 drawing his pistol, had fired into the face of 
 another, but the men were agile as cats, well 
 armed, and vengeful. A blow aimed at his 
 head was impending, when the dauntless 
 Martha flung herself against the assailant, 
 sending him reeling like a drunken man 
 across the deck, the girl recovering herself 
 to rush a second time to Gordon's rescue, 
 and help him beat back the oncoming foe. 
 They were too many for him, his only hope 
 being to keep them at bay until his own men 
 rallied for his support. The darkness helped 
 
298 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 to deceive the robbers, for it was impossible 
 to know their own party in the stress of 
 awful confusion. 
 
 It was at this moment that Gordon felt he 
 stood face to face with his bitter enemy, for as 
 he grappled with a fresh assailant, the sinewy, 
 supple form seemed familiar ; there was a cer- 
 tain motion of body which he had observed 
 only in one person all his life, a rare, character- 
 istic play of the strong right arm. And lost 
 in the night was the woman who had warned 
 him of impending danger, — the woman who 
 had stood grandly by his side and fought like 
 one wonted to bloody scenes. For her sake, 
 for love's sake, for right's sake, he must end 
 this wicked, horrible strife, and put the 
 ghostly being who dared him beyond the 
 pale of life. A moment they fought like 
 fiends, — all the devils in them let loose, — 
 the struggle being for the possession of a 
 knife which the black pirate had half thrust 
 into the vitals of Gordon. At last the rob- 
 ber's hand was free, — with the swiftness of 
 the lightning from heaven, he lifted on high 
 the blade, and struck the fateful blow ; but 
 as the instrument of death cut through the 
 air a woman's hand struck wildly against the 
 murderer's wrist, and the dagger entered his 
 
THE CRUISE OF THE BOSE 299 
 
 own breast. An oath, a cry of despairing 
 hatred, and the men, locked in each other's 
 embrace, rolled toward the edge of the ship, 
 while two shrill whistles, evidently signals to 
 end the fray, sounded their clear alarm, and 
 the robbers fled through the darkness to their 
 waiting boat. 
 
 They found Gordon, bruised and bleeding, 
 knocked senseless, where he had rolled in the 
 embrace of his last assailant. The pirates 
 carried their wounded away with them. 
 
 Miss Mary had fallen at the foot of the 
 companionway when she fled from the pur- 
 suit of her would-be abductor. Fright, weak- 
 ness, and pain were beyond endurance, so 
 that she had lost consciousness. 
 
 Mrs. Randolph and Martha fairly stumbled 
 over the form of little Davie. The child had 
 been true to his charge unto the very last, 
 defending his sister against the evil of the 
 world, giving life itself in behalf of love, and 
 now forever set at liberty from the thrall of 
 his poor, weak frame. 
 
 With the robber crew there had disap- 
 peared one of Gordon's own sailors and the 
 bag of gold taken from the chest in the 
 cabin during the fight on deck. 
 
CHAPTER XXVI 
 
 COLONEL BURR SEES A VISION 
 
 It was June before Peyton came North, — 
 the month of clear skies and singing birds. 
 
 The sisters were telling him the story of 
 the robbery. 
 
 " It had been such a lovely, restful excur- 
 sion ! And how little Davie did enjoy it ! " 
 Martha began the narrative. " It only needed 
 your presence, Mr. Peyton, to complete our 
 happiness, for Davie talked incessantly about 
 you. I don't know how many times he spoke 
 of the 6 raising,' and your fearless rescue, 
 always ending with his heartfelt tribute of 
 deep love. It was like a tender, beautiful 
 poem, — that devotion to his two knightly 
 friends " — 
 
 The girl stifled a sob, while the gentleman 
 dashed the tears from his eyes, and gazed 
 into the deep blue of heaven. 
 
 " And to think," said Mary, taking up the 
 broken narrative of her sister, " that it was 
 for me he gave his life ! It breaks my heart." 
 
COLONEL BURE SEES A VISION 301 
 
 The silence was mellow with the hum of 
 insects and the thrill of nature melodies. 
 
 " Noble little hero ! " exclaimed Peyton, in 
 tenderest accents, thinking of the child's great 
 deed. 
 
 " The very night of the tragedy," contin- 
 ued Martha, " he had seemed so bright and 
 hopeful, saying that he was to visit you by 
 and by, and share the fun of your delightful 
 Virginia plantation life." 
 
 " We did n't write you that one of the 
 men employed by Mr. Gordon on his schooner 
 turned traitor to him, and was really an ac- 
 complice in the robbery. Afterward, when 
 he heard about the death of Davie, he wrote 
 a most pitiful letter, confessing his crime, ask- 
 ing forgiveness, promising amendment, and 
 begging us by the memory of little Davie, 
 whom he had learned in his rough way to 
 love, that he might have a fresh chance. 
 Mr. Gordon gave him money enough to quit 
 the country, — we persuaded him to do it, — 
 and now the fellow is across the ocean." 
 Mary had interrupted her sister. "But it 
 was an awful scene," — her mind reverting 
 to the dark night, the sharp, awful conflict, 
 the cries, groans, agony, the blood-smeared 
 deck, the torn, disheveled clothes of the 
 
302 FBIEND OR FOE 
 
 ladies, the wounds of the men, and the limp, 
 lifeless form of the stricken child. The sister 
 shuddered, and halted in the story. " The 
 sailor who confessed to Mr. Gordon said the 
 robbers did not intend to hurt us. But we 
 learned afterward that gold was not the only 
 object." 
 
 Martha's eyes flamed as the thread of the 
 story was passed to her. 
 
 " Mary was the prime motive of the as- 
 sault," exclaimed the sister, with intense feel- 
 ing. " Jackson turned abductor. Did I not 
 tell you that he was a man who would never 
 hesitate as to the means which he might use 
 to gain his ends ? Thank God, he is dead ! " 
 And the usually serene Martha became hys- 
 terical in the excess of her emotion. 
 
 " Great God ! " cried Peyton, rising to his 
 feet, and pacing the floor ; " was the fellow at 
 the bottom of this hideous crime ? Was it 
 Jackson with whom Gordon fought again ? " 
 
 He clenched his hands ; the color left his 
 face, for the horror of the situation was now 
 first brought home to him. The death of 
 little Davie had moved him with a grief, pro- 
 found, pathetic, but this frightful revelation 
 was like fire burning into his soul. For a 
 moment the anguish of the man passed ex- 
 
COLONEL BURR SEES A VISION 303 
 
 pression, — the moment when he saw, as by 
 a dream, this girl snatched away by the vile, 
 diabolic creature he had learned to hate above 
 the fury of madness. 
 
 The sisters sat terrified as they gazed upon 
 the sudden, terrific play of passion in the 
 man. 
 
 " Oh, pray do not look at us in that fright- 
 ful way ! " cried Mary, springing to her feet, 
 and placing both hands upon the arm of their 
 guest. " You make my very blood curdle," 
 — a little suppressed cry escaping as she 
 spoke. 
 
 With a powerful effort Peyton mastered 
 himself. 
 
 " Forgive me," he said. " But, oh, the 
 thought was enough to drive me mad. Thank 
 God, the villain is dead ! " 
 
 The brief play of hatred passed, then Mar- 
 tha continued the story, as they quietly re- 
 seated themselves. 
 
 " It was little Davie that saved her from 
 an awful fate. The huge sailor that seized 
 Mary was taking her to the edge of the 
 schooner, where the boat was waiting, when 
 Davie ran to her help. It must have been 
 a wild struggle, for both Mary and Davie 
 fought him like tigers until they fell in a 
 
304 FRIEND OB FOE 
 
 heap together. It was then that the creature 
 stabbed the child," — again there was a break 
 in the recital, — " but Mary choked the brute 
 until he loosed his hold, and then she ran 
 from him, and swooned in the companion- 
 way, where they found her after the fight 
 was ended." 
 
 " Gordon did not write me these frightful 
 details. And so it was my little friend that 
 gave his life " — The sentence was never 
 finished. 
 
 " Did you not hear how Jackson died ? " 
 
 Mary asked the question, but the deathly 
 pallor upon the face of her sister stayed the 
 narrative. 
 
 " Colonel Burr told me that death came to 
 him in some fracas with his cronies. Jack- 
 son was always a hot-head, the colonel re- 
 marked." 
 
 " Mr. Gordon sailed last week," said Mary, 
 glad to change the theme of conversation. 
 
 " And did he leave no word for me ? " 
 
 " I think he must have sent a letter to your 
 Virginia home." 
 
 " But what did he say for himself ? I 
 can't guess why this sudden change of plan 
 was made. And I told him that I should 
 return at the earliest possible date." 
 
COLONEL BURR SEES A VISION 305 
 
 " It was news from England that forced 
 him to hasten over the sea. He had returned 
 home with us, — how gently kind and sym- 
 pathetic in our sorrow ; he said and did every- 
 thing to comfort us, and he tarried day after 
 day, trying to hearten us for the long, sad 
 weeks to come. One afternoon the mail 
 brought him a thick packet, which he did not 
 read until he came down here with a letter 
 for uncle David, when, begging our pardon 
 for what he called the discourtesy, he broke 
 the seal, and began his letter. We noticed a 
 quick change in his face ; his hands trembled, 
 and he suddenly arose, saying that his packet 
 contained news of importance, and he must 
 excuse himself. An hour later, he came to 
 tell us that it was an imperative summons to 
 England, he must start that very evening for 
 New York in order to catch the first out- 
 bound ship, and he would write us later ; and 
 in a short time, if God willed (so he put it), 
 we should see him here in Connecticut again." 
 
 Martha gave the brief account in a spirit 
 of such absolute trust that she inspired others 
 with her own sweet, beautiful confidence, 
 albeit the mystery of his sudden departure 
 was altogether unsolved, and Gordon had not 
 spoken a word to dispel it. 
 
306 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 One summer evening Colonel Burr alighted 
 at the home of his friend, David Hardy. The 
 weeks of Peyton's sojourn were drawing to a 
 rapid close. 
 
 Mrs. Randolph and Martha had passed into 
 the parlor, where they soon yielded to the 
 fascinations of the dethroned statesman's con- 
 versation. Childhood days were revived, the 
 gay pranks of rash youth laughed over. 
 Burr had learned that grief shadowed the 
 household, so that he sought in his own 
 inimitable way to lessen the pain of their 
 recent loss. War stories were told as only 
 Burr could recite them ; old friends came to 
 mind, and the humors of their conduct, — a 
 hundred delightful recollections. 
 
 While Colonel Burr was telling one of his 
 brightest stories, Mary appeared in the door- 
 way. Was it an apparition ? Clad in white, 
 the soft, delicate drapery enhancing the subtle 
 loveliness of her face, her dark, deep eyes 
 suffused with the strange, new, tender light 
 of love, every look and motion expressive of 
 natural grace, force of character, and nobility 
 of soul bravely manifest, she stood for the 
 first time in the presence of this man. 
 
 The story abruptly halted, for Colonel 
 Burr's face assumed a deadly pallor, his eyes 
 
COLONEL BURR SEES A VISION 307 
 
 were riveted upon the figure before him, his 
 heart leaped within his breast, an awful tre- 
 mor seized him ; he staggered to his feet. 
 
 "It is"— But Mrs. Randolph did not 
 finish the sentence. 
 
 " Theodosia ! " murmured Burr hoarsely, 
 clenching his hands like a man seeking to 
 sustain himself through some quick, intense 
 agony pressing relentlessly into his soul. For 
 one fleeting moment she who was dearer to 
 him than all the priceless joys of life had 
 come back from her unknown death, and 
 now stepped forth in freshened, beauteous 
 maidenhood once more, to greet and love 
 him, as in the sweet, glad days of old. For 
 one fleeting, tragic moment Burr lived over 
 again the hour when Alston stood with 
 Theodosia in the songful fragrant morn of 
 their plighted troth, and a father's blessing 
 rested upon them. It was a vision, beauti- 
 ful, all too splendid for earth, which dimly, 
 sweetly, radiantly filled his beclouded eyes; 
 he was recalled from the anguish, the ecstasy 
 of the marvelous vision by the low, rich voice 
 of Peyton. 
 
 " I am glad to see you, Colonel Burr. I 
 have often told Miss Mary and the other 
 ladies of the family that your kindness 
 
308 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 plucked me out of the storm, and sent me 
 on my way rejoicing." 
 
 The guest mastered his emotion by a su- 
 preme effort of will, hiding the tumult raging 
 in his bosom, and bowed in a courtly way. 
 
 " Miss Mary's name is familiar to you." 
 Peyton turned to the girl close beside him as 
 he responded to the bow. " Is it possible 
 that you now meet her for the first time ? " 
 
 Colonel Burr, crossing the room with all 
 the noble dignity of his fine manners, raising 
 to his lips the delicate hand of the young 
 woman, saluted her with gentle, captivating 
 deference. 
 
 " Child," said he, the pathos of his mellow, 
 insinuating tones appealing with infinite ten- 
 derness to every person in the room, " you 
 are the living image of my heart of hearts. 
 Methought it was my own daughter who had 
 come to greet me." 
 
 There swept through every mind swift 
 thoughts of the matchless Theodosia, who 
 had gone down to the sea in a ship never to 
 gain safe harbor. 
 
 The wondrous loveliness glowing in the 
 face of the girl assumed an exalted aspect ; 
 a great, pure, sweet compassion shone forth 
 from her luminous eyes ; in very affluence of 
 
COLONEL BURR SEES A VISION 309 
 
 affection, moved to the quick by the tragedy 
 of this man's desolation, she touched her lips 
 to his pallid cheek. 
 
 It was like a sacrament. 
 
 " Child," Colonel Burr broke the hush of 
 the solemn moment, " may God bless and 
 keep you ! " 
 
 Did the spirit of the saintly Jonathan 
 Edwards and the spirit of the angelic Sarah 
 Pierrepont speak for once a benedicite through 
 the lips of the errant grandson ? 
 
 " May your happiness," Burr wedded the 
 man and the woman in his thought and 
 prayer, "equal the happiness of Alston and 
 Theodosia." 
 
 " She has promised to be the mistress of a 
 Virginia home," said Peyton, as he reached 
 for her right hand and held it in his own. 
 
 These are the strange circumstances under 
 which Marshall Peyton and Mary Randolph 
 told that they had plighted troth. 
 
CHAPTER XXVII 
 
 UNDER THE FROWNING BREASTWORKS OF 
 FORT UNION 
 
 Gordon's letters said that he would sail in 
 a few days, but the days became weeks, and 
 the weeks grew into months ; still the waiting 
 did not weary Martha, neither did she abate 
 one jot or tittle of her faith. 
 
 At the last there were no letters. Peyton 
 came North to claim his bride and take her 
 to the home of his childhood and youth. 
 With Davie gone never to return, and Mary 
 now settled in the sunny South, the old 
 homestead seemed a drear place ; yet the 
 light burned with fadeless constancy, and a 
 marvelous, sweet peace was undisturbed. 
 
 " He will come when the way is clear," 
 said Martha to her sister, as she bade her 
 good-by. 
 
 " I never fret," she wrote weeks later to 
 Mary. " His affairs detain him. He will 
 come." 
 
 One mellow, dreamy afternoon in Septem- 
 
UNDER FROWNING BREASTWORKS 311 
 
 ber, the stage-coach from New York drove 
 up to the old tavern with unusual flourish of 
 whip and sounding of horn, for Gordon had 
 come, and the friendly man on the box, who 
 had received a much larger passage-money 
 than the ordinary six cents a mile, put a fair 
 measure of hilarity into whip and horn, jolly 
 speech, and genial handshake. 
 
 " And so they have left you desolate ! " 
 exclaimed Gordon, when Martha told him 
 that Peyton and Mary were happily settled 
 on the ancestral plantation. 
 
 " They have left us, but we are not deso- 
 late. Their happiness we share, although a 
 long journey separates us." 
 
 " Your tell-tale eyes reveal no pain or sor- 
 row," continued Gordon. "And yet, child, 
 there must have been many lonely hours." 
 He was thinking of the sad changes, and his 
 own enforced absence. 
 
 The lost months had been a checkered 
 season of reflection for himself. He had 
 lived over again his childhood, youth, and 
 the early manhood days, mingling with this 
 bitter past many sweet memories and sweeter 
 anticipations clustering about a little home in 
 New England. 
 
 It was the day following his return that 
 
312 FRIEND OB FOE 
 
 they wandered off to the shore. They visited 
 the old tide-mill, they crossed to Battery 
 Point, they climbed into Fort Union. 
 
 " Now, I must tell my story," said Gordon, 
 as they found a cosy recess under the shadow 
 of the frowning breastworks. 
 
 The sea glimmered beneath them and sang 
 a low, monotonous refrain ; the sky had lost 
 its blue in the golden haze of the luxurious 
 autumn day ; the distant fields were dotted 
 over with fair pictures of harvest, — the whis- 
 pering trees beginning to deck themselves 
 in the brilliant, gorgeous tints wrought out 
 by the alchemy of nature. It was the hour 
 and the place to reveal one's heart. 
 
 " 1 have never disclosed my real name and 
 identity to a single person in America." This 
 was the way in which he began his narrative. 
 " Not that I felt ashamed to do it, but simply 
 as a thing of expediency." 
 
 " But you were never able to hide the fact 
 that you are a gentleman," interrupted Mar- 
 tha proudly. 
 
 Smiling, he continued : — 
 
 " When I was born, my mother, and all 
 England for that matter, supposed that I was 
 heir to a noble title and a great estate. I 
 was reared and educated as one who in due 
 
UNDER FROWNING BREASTWORKS 313 
 
 time must assume the grave responsibilities 
 of headship to a distinguished family. It 
 was not a happy life that I led. Marriage* is 
 said to be a lottery, — well, there are blanks 
 and there are prizes," — his look and man- 
 ner were severe, — " and my parents, I be- 
 lieve, were mutually disappointed, so that 
 they soon agreed to live apart. I saw little 
 of them, for I was under tutors, and then at 
 Eton and the University, my father traveling 
 over the world meanwhile, and my mother 
 giving herself to art, books, and society. 
 The sudden death of my father — I took my 
 degree that year — - plunged us into fresh 
 miseries, for it brought to light the fact that 
 he had been driven into a secret marriage 
 with a woman of low degree several years 
 before he knew my mother. There were two 
 sons as the fruit of this union, the mother 
 dying during the infancy of the second child. 
 These two boys disappeared, and my father 
 took no pains to trace them, the fortune 
 which he had settled upon the woman van- 
 ishing with the children. He had never ac- 
 knowledged her as his wife ; her own family 
 did not know that she was married; the 
 woman chose to hide the fact, and when her 
 relatives had squandered the money, the boys 
 
314 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 shifted for themselves. There was, you see, 
 an awful sin committed, but it is not for me 
 to heap reproaches upon my father." 
 
 They watched a score of sails glinting 
 in the mellow light, as the fleet moved 
 on toward the ocean. 
 
 " It was not until my father's death that 
 the one living witness of his first marriage 
 came to me and offered, for a consideration, 
 namely, an enormous sum of money, to keep 
 the secret and destroy all record of this for- 
 eign and disgraceful alliance. I did not 
 hesitate in respect to a decision. I am not 
 the man to make compromises with wrong or 
 entail injustice. The sons were discovered, 
 poor, worthless, ignorant fellows; the elder 
 entered upon his inheritance, and my mother's 
 heart of pride was broken. She died of grief, 
 — not grief for her husband, but grief over 
 the shattered fortunes of her son." 
 
 Gordon paused in the narrative, and ob- 
 served the frolic of a hundred sea-gulls as 
 they gathered upon a stretch of sand left 
 visible by the receding tide. 
 
 Martha was too deeply moved to interrupt 
 the strange tale. 
 
 " My father must have feared this denoue- 
 ment, for while, of course, all the entailed 
 
UNDER FROWNING BREASTWORKS 315 
 
 property would go to the eldest son, he had 
 willed everything else to me, my mother, to 
 be sure, having her dower rights. I accepted 
 the changed conditions of my life, and when 
 my mother died, I came to America. A host 
 of loyal friends cheered me through those 
 hard days, but something of my ancestor's 
 restless spirit drove me forth to wander up 
 and down the earth. I traveled until I 
 wearied of it ; then I embarked in the busi- 
 ness with which I have been connected these 
 several years. It was here in America, this 
 rugged, inchoate, half-civilized country, that 
 I first entered into the joy of life. The past 
 was separated from me by years and the 
 great sea. I became interested in this vast 
 western realm of undeveloped riches and 
 magnificent possibilities. My heart beat in 
 sympathy with the crude, eager, sanguine, 
 enthusiastic, prevailing spirit of the people. 
 When war impended, I used my influence to 
 avert it, for I saw the folly of an appeal to 
 arms. Friends and partners in Great Britain 
 appointed me a kind of peace commissioner 
 at large, to work with American acquaint- 
 ances in creating a sentiment favoring the 
 amicable settlement of our difficulties. A 
 selfish motive first prompted me to this 
 
316 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 course ; our business was going to rack and 
 ruin. But later, when I had learned to re- 
 spect America, and count her people as real 
 brothers, my heart was in all this urgency 
 for peace. The wickedness of such a war 
 as we waged struck home to me. We were 
 fighting our kith and kin, members of the 
 same great race, — the race destined to lead 
 the nations of the world in the great victories 
 of industry and enterprise, free government, 
 and advancing civilization. I was suspected 
 of complicity in such ignoble service as that 
 done by John Henry. Jackson tried to brand 
 me as an English spy. But faith and deter- 
 mination wavered not. New England became 
 especially dear, for I met congenial spirits, — 
 men, the peers of living English statesmen, 
 women that would grace any court of Europe. 
 As the intimations of peace came to me, my 
 heart said, ' Make this new, great land your 
 home,' and I had decided to cast in my lot 
 with the people who seemed nearer than my 
 very flesh and blood in the mother country. 
 More than all, there came to me, in this virgin 
 land, a vision of love. It was a loveless life 
 which I had lived." 
 
 His deep, bass voice, low and gentle under 
 its quiet self-restraint, was vibrant with feeling. 
 
UNDER FROWNING BREASTWORKS 317 
 
 " I never knew the meaning of friendship 
 until Peyton taught it. Noble fellow, how 
 my heart goes out to him in his great happi- 
 ness ! There were hours when it seems to 
 me my soul was knit to the soul of Peyton, 
 as David to Jonathan. God bless him ! 
 Miss Martha, I believe he would have died 
 for me. I love him as no other man among 
 men." 
 
 "Peyton is a pure and beautiful spirit," 
 whispered Martha tenderly, fearing by any 
 word to break the train of Gordon's thought. 
 
 " And it was here that I first learned the 
 meaning of home. What hours have I spent 
 in the atmosphere of love always filling the 
 one cottage which I have haunted through 
 these years ! Dear little Davie ! " — the 
 speaker hesitated — "Miss Mary, gay and 
 happy as the forest songsters of sweet June, 
 the younger sister serene, yet captivating in 
 her spinster-like primness and reserve, con- 
 cealing untold wealth of womanly treasures," 
 — he gazed intently into the face so close 
 to him, — " these are the days worth all the 
 world's best gifts ! " 
 
 The pause was broken by the incessant 
 rippling of the merry wavelets chasing each 
 other along the shining beach. 
 
318 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 " Miss Martha, it was in this strange, dear 
 land that the noblest impulses of my slow, 
 dumb nature awakened. I longed to do 
 something for my country, make a sacrifice, 
 and deepen the sense of right in the hearts 
 of her citizens; and then I longed to help 
 this glorious America, join my fortunes with 
 her people, and take a part in that magnifi- 
 cent destiny which, please God, awaits her ; 
 and then I longed to see England and 
 America join heart and hand in the leader- 
 ship of the world, — this mighty, all-conquer- 
 ing Anglo-Saxon race pushing into the years 
 with its guerdon of free government, expand- 
 ing intelligence, and vital Christian civiliza- 
 tion. I longed to take some little share in 
 that which the God of nations has foreor- 
 dained for this modern Israel of the world.' ' 
 
 Gordon had risen to his feet, a great light 
 transforming his countenance, the eloquence 
 of the man entrancing his single auditor. 
 
 "And, Miss Martha, it was here that I 
 came to learn the meaning of woman's love. 
 The sorrow, disaster, and misery which had 
 touched me in the domestic realm naturally 
 hardened the heart. I had thought that love 
 was a dream, a chimera, the ignis fatuus of 
 the damp forest ; the selfishness and bitterness 
 
UNDER FROWNING BREASTWORKS 319 
 
 of men, the vanity, worldliness, ambition of 
 the women I was accustomed to meet filled 
 my mind with foolish and deceitful fancies, 
 for I came to believe that all were alike 
 proud and heartless. Thank God, I was led 
 into a happy New England home." 
 
 A radiance like the splendor of the mid- 
 day sun illumined Martha's features, as he 
 continued the narrative. 
 
 " The war ended, and peace clearing the 
 path for commerce, I had felt that one great 
 object in my life might now be realized. I 
 longed to have a home. This fair land was 
 the choice of my heart. It only needed the 
 woman that I loved to complete my happi- 
 ness. It was at this point that there came to 
 me an imperative summons from old England. 
 The day you well remember. My solicitor 
 had written me the bare facts of the case. 
 These two half-brothers, who had for years 
 been sinking deeper into depths of degra- 
 dation, having surrounded themselves with all 
 that was vicious and brutal in association, 
 were suddenly snuffed out of life, as a rough 
 hand will sometimes extinguish the flame of 
 a candle. A wild orgy ended in a quarrel, 
 a mortal wound for each brother, and death 
 before the next sunrise. The grave responsi- 
 
320 FBIEND OR FOE 
 
 bilities of family, estate, lofty station, and 
 local leadership were thus unexpectedly thrust 
 upon me after years of virtual renunciation. 
 I went back to England determined that my 
 stay should be short, for my heart was in 
 America. But the affairs of the ancestral 
 estate were all at odds, and it took months to 
 disentangle them. I sailed for New York on 
 the day that my lawyers loosed me from their 
 grip." 
 
 The sky above them suddenly darkened 
 with the flight of birds winging a way to their 
 Southern home. 
 
 " Child, I must go back to my native land. 
 It is the season of migration," — pointing to 
 the myriad creatures following their distant 
 leader through the thickening haze. " Will 
 you not flit across the sea with me, and re- 
 turn to the old home of your ancestors ? " 
 
CHAPTER XXVIII 
 
 IN WHICH THEY PASS FROM PLANTATION TO 
 CASTLE 
 
 " It 's a letter from Gordon ! " said uncle 
 David, stumbling into the room where Mrs. 
 Randolph was sitting. " Read it aloud, Lois/' 
 handing the packet to his sister ; " my eyes 
 grow dim ; people don't write with the neat, 
 clear hand we used to see ; and, Lois, people 
 don't speak in loud, distinct tones, as they 
 did when we were children." 
 
 " It comes like floods of sunshine," ex- 
 claimed the brave mother, as she glanced 
 down the pages. " David, only three weeks 
 have passed since they were married, but 
 what a long, long time it seems ! How 
 happy they are, and what a picture of old 
 Virginia they send us," still continuing her 
 swift survey of the letter's contents. 
 
 " They 're back in Washington, and Pey- 
 ton and Mary came with them." 
 
 " It 's a wonderfully quaint, free, jolly life 
 which these planters live," — Mrs. Randolph 
 
322 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 was now reading aloud to her brother. " Pey- 
 ton's acres stretch into the many thousands. 
 He 's a great landed proprietor like some of 
 us Englishmen. We 've been making com- 
 parisons, and our estates run into the same 
 figures. He must own more than two hun- 
 dred slaves, and they are fat, well-contented, 
 lazy, good-natured creatures, adoring their 
 master. I congratulate you that slavery has 
 passed into its sere and yellow leaf among 
 New Englanders. Peyton treats his people 
 like children ; he 's the very soul of kindness 
 and goodwill, but the practice is bound to 
 bring trouble." 
 
 Skipping further paragraphs upon the sub- 
 ject, Mrs. Randolph read : — 
 
 " They gave us a royal welcome ; great 
 bonfires, the ample, straggling, hospitable 
 mansion aglow with life and merrymaking, 
 more than fourscore neighbors being present 
 to grace the festivities, and all the dark- 
 skinned population of the county, I should 
 think. In the midst of our own frolic, the 
 whole company streamed forth to negro quar- 
 ters, where the grandest jubilation of all had 
 been arranged, and there we saw the gro- 
 tesque, comical dances of the darkies, and 
 heard their weird, pathetic singing, with the 
 
FROM PLANTATION TO CASTLE 323 
 
 curious accompaniment of swaying bodies, 
 swinging arms, and other fantastic motions. 
 It was one of the strangest sights I ever 
 witnessed." 
 
 There followed other descriptive para- 
 graphs. 
 
 " We find that Peyton has been very 
 modest in the little which he chose to tell 
 about himself. He is a distant cousin of 
 President Madison, and his Excellency seems 
 fond of him. We dined with the President 
 and his extremely interesting lady the other 
 day. They are now living in the Octagon, 
 a pleasant house in a good location (it was 
 here that the treaty of peace was signed), and 
 we had a delightful time. Mrs. Madison's 
 table was loaded down with good things, — 
 a sort of harvest-home supper I called it, 
 — characteristic of Southern hospitality. She 
 quite prides herself upon this style of enter- 
 tainment. i Abundance is preferable to ele- 
 gance,' she remarked to me, and then she 
 gave a very neat turn to her apology (if one 
 calls it an apology). c Our profusion arises 
 from the happy circumstance of our super- 
 abundance and prosperity,' she said. c I do 
 not hesitate to sacrifice the delicacy of Euro- 
 pean taste for the less elegant but more 
 
824 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 liberal fashion of Virginia.' We met Senator 
 Hillhouse, Colonel Tallmadge, Mr. Sturges, 
 and several other Connecticut worthies, and 
 nearly all our New England friends in Con- 
 gress. I don't think the President believes 
 half that Peyton tells him about the Eastern 
 States. He evidently feels that the young 
 man, having married a wife in that hostile 
 region, necessarily becomes a prejudiced and 
 untrustworthy observer. Although peace has 
 been declared, many a fight will be waged 
 between Federalist and Republican." 
 
 The sweet words of praise for Mary, Mrs. 
 Randolph read to herself. 
 
 " We sail in two days/' wrote Gordon. 
 " She 's a fast ship, and lies awaiting us down 
 the Chesapeake." 
 
 It was midwinter when Mr. David Hardy 
 brought from the post another welcome 
 packet. 
 
 " It is like a beautiful dream that will 
 vanish in the morning," so ran Martha's 
 letter. " We tarried in London a few days, 
 where I met the Duke of Wellington, the 
 adored hero of the day ; Lord Castlereagh, 
 Sir Robert Peel, the brilliant Canning, and 
 last but not least, of course, the Prince Re- 
 gent. (He 's not popular with the people, I 
 
FROM PLANTATION TO CASTLE 325 
 
 see.) I met such a host of great folk that 
 their names and quality have escaped me. 
 Then we drove in Gordon's chariot, — I shall 
 always call him Gordon; he has a dozen 
 names and titles, and says I can take my 
 choice, — and it was the funniest and most 
 gorgeous, elegant vehicle I ever saw, pulled 
 by six horses, with outriders and postilions, 
 and when we arrived at his estate we were 
 greeted by a band of music and a procession 
 of yeomanry ; and we rode and rode through 
 acres upon acres of fields, meadows, forests, 
 with hedges and hedges. Oh, such magnifi- 
 cent trees, and such wonderful vistas opening 
 through woods, and the prettiest little cot- 
 tages and farmhouses sprinkled over the land- 
 scape ! I thought we should never get to 
 the castle ! '■ — dear mother, think of living in 
 a castle, — but by and by the massive stone 
 walls and battlements loomed up in the dis- 
 tance, although it began to grow dark. Then 
 we came to a great stretch of lawn, which 
 must be marvelously lovely in its season, and 
 then more hedges with gardens, and such 
 curious, interesting nooks and retreats. All 
 of a sudden, the song of children struck upon 
 our ears, and torches flared through the gath- 
 ering gloom, and a great shout went up from 
 
326 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 hundreds of throats. It was the little people 
 of the estate who greeted us, singing their 
 holiday carols, and all the tenantry of the 
 estate coming to do honor, so Gordon said, 
 to the American bride ; but I think it was 
 love's welcome to my noble husband, — the 
 welcome of a people distracted by the wicked- 
 ness of the former lord of this vast estate, 
 now rejoicing in the advent of a worthy heir. 
 The songs of the children brought tears to 
 my eyes, the myriad torches cast their strange 
 spell about me, and then every window in 
 the long, irregular, frowning pile before us 
 blazed with light, shining out against the 
 dark background of shadowy hills and for- 
 ests, like a magic transparency." 
 
 Mrs. Randolph stayed her reading as she 
 wiped away the tears which bedimmed her 
 eyes. 
 
 " When we drove up to the castle, a 
 mighty cheer filled the heavens, the place 
 was dense with people, there was more sing- 
 ing, broken by the shouts of the sturdy ten- 
 antry, lights flashed all about us, as many 
 as sixty house-servants — just think of it — 
 ranged along on each side the entrance, and 
 we walked between the bowing, laughing, 
 crying domestics (they were crying for very 
 
FROM PLANTATION TO CASTLE 327 
 
 joy, you know) ; then the stately old house- 
 keeper met us. Oh, what a beautiful welcome 
 she gave, and then I — why, mother, dear, I 
 could n't keep the tears back any longer, and 
 they carried me off to a lovely room, where 
 I rested, and " — 
 
 Again the mother halted in her reading, 
 and bent her head in deep thought. 
 
 " Gordon says it will be our mission to 
 foster good feeling between England and 
 America. He is as loyal to my beloved 
 native land as one born and bred in dear 
 Connecticut. I hear people talk about Mr. 
 Washington Irving and his agreeable writ- 
 ings, and the end of the war, and the good 
 luck which favored our navy (that way of 
 putting it always angers me) ; and the Duke 
 of Wellington asked me if I knew General 
 Jackson. But the people of Great Britain 
 are strangely ignorant in respect to every- 
 thing American. They eye me with incredu- 
 lity and amazement. I verily think that 
 they expected to see a squaw dressed in 
 blankets, beads, and feathers, — a second 
 Pocahontas. When it was told that 'His 
 Lordship ' — I laugh when I write the high- 
 sounding title — had brought his bride from 
 the wilds of the western wilderness " — 
 
328 FRIEND OR FOE 
 
 There was a break in the familiar writing, 
 and a strong, masculine hand interjected a 
 sentence : " Well they might stare upon my 
 peerless flower, plucked from the soil of the 
 coming empire, — there 's not her match for 
 beauty or goodness in all the king's realm." 
 
 Then Martha told her fair romance to the 
 chapter's end. 
 
'O fOD/U