ening
the broad silver clasp of his cloak. For a moment she hesitated, the
next she raised herself on tiptoes, and kissed him. He pursed up his
mouth a little sternly, and then stroked her white hair. "You heard
what St. Paul says, Janet; isna that a settlement o' the question?"

"I'm no blaming St. Paul, Alexander. If ever St. Paul approves o'
submitting to tyranny, it's thae translators' fault. He wouldna tak'
injustice himsel', not even from a Roman magistrate. I wish St. Paul was
alive the day: I'm vera sure if he were, he'd write an epistle to the
English wad put the king's dues just as free men would be willing to pay
them. Now, don't be angry, Alexander. If you go awa' angry at me, you'll
hae a bad day; you ken that, gudeman."

It was a subtile plea; for no man, however wise or good or brave, likes
to bespeak ill-fortune when it can be averted by a sacrifice so easy and
so pleasant. But, in spite of Janet's kiss, he was unhappy; and when he
reached the store, the clerks and porters were all standing together
talking. He knew quite well what topic they were discussing with such
eager movements and excited speech. But they dispersed to their work at
the sight of his sour, stern face, and he did not intend to open a fresh
dispute by any question.

Apprentices and clerks then showed a great deal of deference to their
masters, and Elder Semple demanded the full measure due to him.
Something, however, in the carriage, in the faces, in the very, tones of
his servants' voices, offended him; and he soon discovered that various
small duties had been neglected.

"Listen to me, lads," he said angrily; "I'll have nae politics mixed up
wi' my exports and my imports. Neither king nor Congress has anything
to do wi' my business. If there is among you ane o' them fools that ca'
themselves the 'Sons o' Liberty,' I'll pay him whatever I owe him now,
and he can gang to Madam Liberty for his future wage."

[Illustration: He was standing on the step of his high counting-desk.]

He was standing on the step of his high counting-desk as he spoke, and
he peered over the little wooden railing at the men scattered about with
pens or hammers or goods in their hands. There was a moment's silence;
then a middle-aged man quietly laid down the tools with which he was
closing a box, and walked up to the desk. The next moment, every one in
the place had followed him. Semple was amazed and angry, but he made no
sign of either emotion. He coun