jailor. "Even if you were to die tomorrow, I should give it up
and go back to my little farm where I might feel myself an honest man
again."

Suddenly Haym sat down upon the bench, his mouth grim and stubborn. "I
will not go. My name has always been spotless. But if I escape, there
may be some who will believe that the charges brought against me are
true, that I have acted as a secret agent for General Washington,
endeavoring to burn the British warships and warehouses at his
instigation. Whereas you know that my one crime was helping those few
poor lads escape from their torture."

"Will you stay here and argue until morning when the guards will take
you below to let you swing for your folly!" muttered Jonas, now
thoroughly exasperated. "You and I and the world know that not even
Sir Henry himself believes the charges brought against you at your
trial. It was only when that young Frenchman escaped two months ago
and one of Sir Henry's ready spies betrayed you, that you were clapped
into his cell to face charges in his court. I warned you then how it
would be and you would not heed my words. Now let me save you before
it is too late."

"But my wife and little son," murmured Salomon, as the other adjusted
the heavy shawl about his shoulders. "Who will care for them?"

"You can send for them when you have found shelter. And if you stay
and are hanged, who will protect them?" He pushed the large bonnet
upon Salomon's head, nodding with satisfaction to see how it concealed
his face. "Now, remember, say nothing and try to walk slowly--no, no,
shorter steps! And put the basket on your arm." He stepped back to
admire the result of his scheming. "Mr. Salomon," he said, seriously,
"if I did not know that my good wife was waiting for me outside I
would swear she stood before me. Come, take my arm,--remember, walk
slowly--" and the two passed out into the sultry August night.

* * * * *

The Revolutionary War was over, and young Louis di Vernon, still very
much of a boy despite the down upon his lip and the manly assurance
achieved by almost seven years hard soldiering, leaned back in the
shabby arm chair and looked questioningly at his host across the
table. Since his escape from the old Provost, he had often heard tales
of Haym Salomon's great wealth, the magnificent sums he had lent the
government, his generosity toward the nation's unpaid representatives,
especially his young friend Madis