could
discuss glibly the right of Parliament to tax the colonies. He denounced
the seditious doings in Annapolis and Boston Town with an air of easy
familiarity, for Philip had the memory of a parrot, and 'twas easy to
perceive whence his knowledge sprang. But when my fine master spoke
disparagingly of the tradesmen as at the bottom of the trouble, my
grandfather's patience came to an end.

"And what think you lies beneath the wealth and power of England,
Philip?" he asked.

"Her nobility, sir, and the riches she draws from her colonies," retorts
Master Philip, readily enough.

"Not so," Mr. Carvel said gravely. "She owes her greatness to her
merchants, or tradesmen, as you choose to call them. And commerce must
be at the backbone of every great nation. Tradesmen!" exclaimed my
grandfather. "Where would any of us be were it not for trade? We sell
our tobacco and our wheat, and get money in return. And your father
makes a deal here and a deal there, and so gets rich in spite of his
pittance."

My Uncle Grafton raised his hand to protest, but Mr. Carvel continued:
"I know you, Grafton, I know you. When a lad it was your habit to lay
aside the money I gave you, and so pretend you had none."

"And 'twas well I learned then to be careful," said my uncle, losing
for the instant his control, "for you loved the spend-thrift best, and I
should be but a beggar now without my wisdom."

"I loved not John's carelessness with money, but other qualities in him
which you lacked," answered Mr. Carvel.

Grafton shot a swift glance at me; and so much of malice and of hatred
was conveyed in that look that with a sense of prophecy I shuddered
to think that some day I should have to cope with such craft. For he
detested me threefold, and combined the hate he bore my dead father and
mother with the ill-will he bore me for standing in his way and Philip's
with my grandfather's property. But so deftly could he hide his feelings
that he was smiling again instantly. To see once, however, the white
belly of the shark flash on the surface of the blue water is sufficient.

"I beg of you not to jest of me before the lads, father," said Grafton.

"God knows there was little jest in what I said," replied Mr. Carvell
soberly, "and I care not who hears it. Your own son will one day know
you well enough, if he does not now. Do not imagine, because I am old,
that I am grown so foolish as to believe that a black sheep can become
white save by dy