ews of the safe
arrival of those missing merchant-ships at port."

Louis arose, his honest face red with shame. "I did not want to hurt
you," he said, speaking with difficulty. "When I came here tonight and
you both thought it was just to thank you before I set sail for
France, I was ashamed to tell you the reason of my visit. For I am
like the others; I would not have come to thank you for favors past;
not knowing of your misfortune, I only came to ask new bounties; that
is why I am ashamed."

"Then why do you tell me now?" Salomon's voice had grown very tired.
"I should have liked to believe that you were not here for favors."

"I could not go away and have you believe a lie. You are too honest a
man to lie to, Mr. Salomon. Are you sorry I told the truth?"

"No. That takes the pain away." A long silence while the January wind
howled outside. At last Haym spoke. "What did you wish of me--though
now I may be unable to grant it."

"I leave shortly for France," answered the young man, flushed beneath
the other's quiet gaze. "Although I return a poor man, my betrothed
has waited for me and I desired to buy a bit of land for my own that
we might become householders as our parents were before us. I knew you
would trust me and that is why I came to you, my one friend in
America."

"Now I am truly sorry for my losses," answered Salomon. "If I could
only help you--but, perhaps, Mr. Morris--yes, I will give you a note
to him, and though I am not prosperous today, he will be willing to
trust me as your security."

But Louis di Vernon shook his head. "I cannot think of it," he
answered, stubbornly. "Do not insist, or I shall be sorry that I told
you of my desires. Please have this visit as it should have been; to
thank you for your great kindness to me; not to ask more favors."

"As you will," answered Haym with a smile. "But you must not leave us
without a little token for your betrothed." Going to the mantel piece,
he took down a silver cup, quaintly carved, and slipped it into the
young man's unwilling hand. "Nay, lad, take it, it is all I can give
you--this and my blessing for your future." Again the wind shook the
window pane. "It is a bitter night outside. We have no guest chamber,
but if you care to sleep beside our fire----"

"Nay, after Valley Forge a soldier is not afraid of the storm,"
laughed the Frenchman. "And I cannot thank you for this--and all your
kindness. But she is a woman and when I tell my Mairie,