e made out, in which I do not see your name.' Poor
Charles! He is now without money or place, but as usual appears to
worry least of all of us, and still reads his damned Tasso for
amusement.
"C."

Perchance he was to be the Saint Paul of English politics, after all.

CHAPTER XLIX. LIBERTY LOSES A FRIEND

Mr. Bordley's sloop took Mr. Swain to Gordon's Pride in May, and placed
him in the big room overlooking the widening river. There he would lie
all day long, staring through the leaves at the water, or listening to
the sweet music of his daughter's voice as she read from the pompous
prints of the time. Gentlemen continued to come to the plantation, for
the barrister's wisdom was sorely missed at the councils. One day, as
I rode in from the field, I found Colonel Lloyd just arrived from
Philadelphia, sipping sangaree on the lawn and mopping himself with his
handkerchief. His jolly face was troubled. He waved his hand at me.

"Well, Richard," says he, "we children are to have our first whipping.
At least one of us. And the rest are resolved to defy our parent."

"Boston, Mr. Lloyd?" I asked.

"Yes, Boston," he replied; "her port is closed, and we are forbid any
intercourse with her until she comes to her senses. And her citizens
must receive his gracious Majesty's troopers into their houses. And if a
man kill one of them by any chance, he is to go to England to be tried.
And there is more quite as bad."

"'Tis bad enough!" I cried, flinging myself down. And Patty gave me a
glass in silence.

"Ay, but you must hear all," said he; "our masters are of a mind to
do the thing thoroughly. Canada is given some score of privileges. Her
French Roman Catholics, whom we fought not long since, are thrown a
sop, and those vast territories between the lakes and the Ohio and
Mississippi are given to Quebec as a price for her fidelity. And so, if
the worst comes to worst, George's regiments will have a place to land
against us."

Such was the news, and though we were some hundreds of miles from
Massachusetts, we felt their cause as our own. There was no need of
the appeal which came by smoking horses from Philadelphia, for the
indignation of our people was roused to the highest pitch. Now Mr. Swain
had to take to his bed from the excitement.

This is not a history, my dears, as I have said. And time is growing
short. I shall pass over that dreary summer of '74. It required no very
keen e