reeze from the river. It might have been on Second Day. It chanced to
be the same time a Quaker man who hath of late come often sat without on
the step of the porch, a proper lad, and young, very neat in gray. Near
by sat a maid. Up from the river came the little god who is of all
religions and did tempt the young man. The man within lost interest in
his book."

Then Rene gave up the game of skip-stone, and, turning, said, "_Mon
Dieu_, you did not listen?"

"Did he not? He had listened to the talk in the book, and wherefore not
to them? It amused him more. For a little the maid did not seem greatly
displeased."

"She did not seem displeased?"

"No. And then--and then that Friend who was perverted into a lover would
_brusquer_ matters, as you say, and did make a venture, being tempted by
the little devil called Cupid. The man who listened did not see it, but
it does seem probable she was kissed, because thereupon was heard a
resounding smack, and feeling that here had been a flagrant departure
from non-resistance, the man within, having been satisfactorily
indiscreet, fell to reading again and the Quaker went away doubly
wounded. Dost thou like my story, Friend de Courval?"

"No, I do not." He was flushing, angry.

"I told you I had no conscience."

"Upon my word, I believe you. Why did you not kick him?"

"I leave you the privilege."

"Come. I hate your story,"--and laughing, despite his wrath,--"your
conscience needs a bath."

"Perhaps." And they went down to the boat, the German still laughing.

"What amuses you?"

"Nothing. Nothing amuses one as much as nothing. I should have been a
diplomatist at the court of Love." And to himself: "Is it well for these
children? Here is another tangle, and if--if anything should go amiss
here are three sad hearts. D----the Jacobin cur! I ought to kill him.
That would settle things."

For many days De Courval saw nothing of his enemy. Schmidt, who owned
many houses and mortgages and good irredeemable ground rents, was busy.

Despite the fear of foreign war and the rage of parties, the city was
prosperous and the increase of chariots, coaches, and chaises so great
as to cause remark. House rents rose, the rich of the gay set drank,
danced, gambled, and ran horses on the road we still call Race Street.
Wages were high. All the wide land felt confidence, and speculation went
on, for the poor in lotteries, for the rich in impossible canals never
to see water.

On Aug