o back to your father,
Philip, and threaten him, and he may make you rich. Such as he live by
blackmail. And you may add, and you will, that the day of retribution is
coming for him."

CHAPTER XLVIII. MULTUM IN PARVO

I lost no time after getting to Annapolis in confiding to Mr. Swain the
conversation I had had with my cousin Philip. And I noticed, as he sat
listening to my account in the library in Gloucester Street, that the
barrister looked very worn. He had never been a strong man, and
the severe strain he had been under with the patriots' business was
beginning to tell.

He was very thoughtful when I had finished, and then told me briefly
that I had done well not to take the offer. "Tucker would have made
but short work of such evidence, my lad," said he, "and I think Master
Philip would have lied himself in and out a dozen times. I cannot think
what witness he would have introduced save Mr. Allen. And there is
scarcely a doubt that your uncle pays him for his silence, for I am told
he is living in Frederick in a manner far above what he gets from the
parish. However, Philip has given us something more to work on. It may
be that he can put hands on the messenger."

I rose to go.

"We shall bring them to earth yet, Richard, and I live," he added. "And
I have always meant to ask you whether you ever regretted your decision
in taking Gordon's Pride."

"And you live, sir!" I exclaimed, not heeding the question.

He smiled somewhat sadly.

"Of one thing I am sure, my lad," he continued, "which is that I have
had no regrets about taking you. Mr. Bordley has just been here, and
tells me you are the ablest young man in the province. You see that more
eyes than mine are upon you. You have proved yourself a man, Richard,
and there are very few macaronies would have done as you did. I am
resolved to add another little mite to your salary."

The "little mite" was of such a substantial nature that I protested
strongly against it. I thought of Tom's demands upon him.

"I could afford to give you double for what you have made off the
place," he interrupted. "But I do not believe in young men having too
much." He sighed, and turned to his work.

I hesitated. "You have spent time and labour upon my case, sir, and have
asked no fee."

"I shall speak of the fee when I win it," he said dryly, "and not
before. How would you like to be clerk this winter to the Committee of
Correspondence?"

I suppose my pleasure