implicity. I'll warrant you wear silk-knit
under that gray homespun, and have a cameo in your pocket."

He shook his head, looking up at me with affection.

"You might have guessed better," he answered. "All of quality I have
about me are an enamelled repeater and a gold brooch."

This made me suddenly grave, for McAndrews's words had been ringing
in my ears ever since he had spoken them. I hitched my arm into the
captain's and pulled him toward the Coffee House door.

"Come," I said, "you have not dined, and neither have I. We shall
be merry to-day, and you shall have some of the best Madeira in the
colonies." I commanded a room, that we might have privacy. As he
took his seat opposite me I marked that he had grown heavier and more
browned. But his eye had the same unfathomable mystery in it as of yore.
And first I upbraided him for not having writ me.

"I took you for one who glories in correspondence, captain," said I;
"and I did not think you could be so unfaithful. I directed twice to you
in Mr. Orchardson's care."

"Orchardson died before I had made one voyage," he replied, "and
the Betsy changed owners. But I did not forget you, Richard, and was
resolved but now not to leave Maryland until I had seen you. But I burn
to hear of you," he added. "I have had an inkling of your story from the
landlord. So your grandfather is dead, and that blastie, your uncle, of
whom you told me on the John, is in possession."

He listened to my narrative keenly, but with many interruptions. And
when I was done, he sighed.

"You are always finding friends, Richard," said he; "no matter what
your misfortunes, they are ever double discounted. As for me; I am like
Fulmer in Mr. Cumberland's 'West Indian': 'I have beat through every
quarter of the compass; I have bellowed for freedom; I have offered to
serve my country; I have'--I am engaging to betray it. No, Scotland
is no longer my country, and so I cannot betray her. It is she who has
betrayed me."

He fell into a short mood of dejection. And, indeed, I could not but
reflect that much of the character fitted him like a jacket. Not the
betrayal of his country. He never did that, no matter how roundly they
accused him of it afterward.

To lift him, I cried:

"You were one of my first friends, Captain Paul" (I could not stomach
the Jones); "but for you I should now be a West Indian, and a miserable
one, the slave of some unmerciful hidalgo. Here's that I may live to
repay