cursed house. And you shall taste of our hospitality
at Carvel Hall, and choose that career which pleases you. Faith, I could
point you a dozen examples in Annapolis of men who have made their way
without influence. But you shall have influence," I cried, glowing
at the notion of rewarding him; "you shall experience Mr. Carvel's
gratitude and mine. You shall have the best of our ships, and you will."

He was a man to take fire easily, and embraced me. And, strange to say,
neither he nor I saw the humour, nor the pity, of the situation. How
many another would long before have become sceptical of my promises! And
justly. For I had led him to London, spent all his savings, and then
got him into a miserable prison, and yet he had faith remaining, and to
spare!

It occurred to me to notify Mr. Dix of my residence in Castle Yard,
not from any hope that he would turn his hand to my rescue, but that
he might know where to find me if he heard from Maryland. And I penned
another letter to Mr. Carvel, but a feeling I took no pains to define
compelled me to withhold an account of Mr. Manners's conduct. And
I refrained from telling him that I was in a debtor's prison. For I
believe the thought of a Carvel in a debtor's prison would have killed
him. I said only that we were comfortably lodged in a modest part of
London; that the Manners were inaccessible (for I could not bring myself
to write that they were out of town). Just then a thought struck me with
such force that I got up with a cheer and hit the astonished captain
between the shoulders.

"How now!" he cried, ruefully rubbing himself. "If these are thy
amenities, Richard, Heaven spare me thy blows."

"Why, I have been a fool, and worse," I shouted. "My grandfather's ship,
the Sprightly Bess, is overhauling this winter in the Severn. And unless
she has sailed, which I think unlikely, I have but to despatch a line to
Bristol to summon Captain Bell, the master, to London. I think he will
bring the worthy Mr. Dix to terms."

"Whether he will or no," said John Paul, hope lighting his face, "Bell
must have command of the twenty pounds to free us, and will take us
back to America. For I must own, Richard, that I have no great love for
London."

No more had I. I composed this letter to Bell in such haste that my hand
shook, and sent it off with a shilling to the bailiff's servant, that it
might catch the post. And that afternoon we had a two-shilling bottle of
port for dinner