CHAPTER IV
THE CROSSING
There were curious events in the voyage of Jack and Solomon. The date of the letter above referred to would indicate that they sailed on or about the eleventh of October, 1773. Their ship was The Snow which had arrived the week before with some fifty Irish servants, indentured for their passage. These latter were, in a sense, slaves placed in bondage to sundry employers by the captain of the ship for a term of years until the sum due to the owners for their transportation had been paid--a sum far too large, it would seem.
Jack was sick for a number of days after the voyage began but Solomon, who was up and about and cheerful in the roughest weather, having spent a part of his youth at sea, took care of his young friend. Jack tells in a letter that he was often awakened in the night by vermin and every morning by the crowing of cocks. Those days a part of every ship was known as "the hen coops" where ducks, geese and chickens were confined. They came in due time through the butcher shop and the galley to the cabin table. The cook was an able, swearing man whose culinary experience had been acquired on a Nantucket whaler. Cooks who could stand up for service every day in a small ship on an angry sea when the galley rattled like a dice box in the hands of a nervous player, were hard to get. Their constitutions were apt to be better than their art. The food was of poor quality, the cooking a tax upon jaw, palate and digestion, the service unclean. When good weather came, by and by, and those who had not tasted food for days began to feel the pangs of hunger the ship was filled with a most passionate lot of pilgrims. It was then that Solomon presented the petition of the passengers to the captain.
"Cap'n, we're 'bout wore out with whale meat an' slobgollion. We're all down by the head."
"So'm I," said the Captain. "This 'ere man had a good recommend an' said he could cook perfect."
"A man like that kin cook the passengers with their own heat," said Solomon. "I feel like my belly was full o' hot rocks. If you'll let me into the galley, I'll right ye up an' shift the way o' the wind an' the course o' the ship. I'll swing the bow toward Heaven 'stead o' Hell an' keep her p'inted straight an' it won't cost ye a penny. They's too much swearin' on this 'ere ship. Can't nobody be a Christian with his guts a-b'ilin'. His tongue'll break loose an' make his soul look like a waggin with a smashed wheel an' a bu'sted ex. A cook could do more good here than a minister."
"Can you cook?"
"You try me an' I'll agree to happy ye up so ye won't know yerself. Yer meat won't be raw ner petrified an' there won't be no insecks in the biscuit."
"He'll make a row."
"I hope so. Leave him to me. I'm a leetle bit in need o' exercise, but ye needn't worry. I know how to manage him--perfect. You come with me to the galley an' tell him to git out of it. I'll do the rest."
Solomon's advice was complied with. The cook--Thomas Crowpot by name--was ordered out of the galley. The sea cook is said to be the father of profanity. His reputation has come down through the ages untarnished, it would seem, by any example of philosophical moderation. Perhaps it is because, in the old days, his calling was a hard one and only those of a singular recklessness were willing to engage in it. The Snow's cook was no exception. He was a big, brawny, black Yankee with a claw foot look in his eyes. Profanity whizzed through the open door like buckshot from a musket. He had been engaged for the voyage and would not give up his job to any man.
"Don't be so snappish," said Solomon. Turning to the Captain he added: "Don't ye see here's the big spring. This 'ere man could blister a bull's heel by talkin' to it. He's hidin' his candle. This ain't no job fer him. I say he orto be promoted."
With an outburst still profane but distinctly milder the cook wished to know what they meant.
Solomon squinted with his rifle eye as if he were taking careful aim at a small mark.
"Why, ye see we passengers have been swearin' stiddy fer a week," he drawled. "We're wore out. We need a rest. You're a trained swearer. Ye do it perfect. Ye ortn't to have nothin' else to do. We want you to go for'ard an' find a comf'table place an' set down an' do all the swearin' fer the hull ship from now on. You'll git yer pay jest the same as if ye done the cookin'. It's a big job but I guess ye're ekal to it. I'll agree that they won't nobody try to grab it. Ye may have a little help afore the mast but none abaft."
This unexpected proposition calmed the cook. The prospect of full pay and nothing to do pleased him. He surrendered.
An excellent dinner was cooked and served that day. The lobscouse made of pork, fowl and sliced potatoes was a dish to remember. But the former cook got a line of food calculated to assist him in the performance of his singular duty. Happiness returned to the ship and Solomon was cheered when at length he came out of the galley. Officers and passengers rendered him more homage after that than they paid to the rich and famous Mr. Girard who was among their number. That day this notice was written on the blackboard:
"Thomas Crowpot has been engaged to do all the swearing that's necessary on this voyage. Any one who needs his services will find him on the forward deck. Small and large jobs will be attended to while you wait."
2
Often in calm weather Jack and Solomon amused themselves and the other passengers with pistol practise by tossing small objects into the air and shooting at them over the ship's side. They rarely missed even the smallest object thrown. Jack was voted the best marksman of the two when he crushed with his bullet four black walnuts out of five thrown by Mr. Girard.
In the course of the voyage they overhauled The Star, a four-masted ship bound from New York to Dover. For hours the two vessels were so close that the passengers engaged in a kind of battle. Those on The Star began it by hurling turnips at the men on the other ship who responded with a volley of apples. Solomon discerned on the deck of the stranger Captain Preston and an English officer of the name of Hawk whom he had known at Oswego and hailed them. Then said Solomon:
"It's a ship load o' Tories who've had enough of Ameriky. They's a cuss on that tub that I helped put a coat o' tar an' feathers on in the Ohio kentry. He's the one with the black pipe in his mouth. I don't know his name but they use to call him Slops--the dirtiest, low-downdest, damn Tory traitor that ever lived. Helped the Injuns out thar in the West. See that 'ere black pipe? Allus carries it in his mouth 'cept when he's eatin'. I guess he goes to sleep with it. It's one o' the features o' his face. We tarred him plenty now you hear to me."
That evening a boat was lowered and the Captain of The Snow crossed a hundred yards of quiet sea to dine with the Captain of The Star in the cabin of the latter. Next day a stiff wind came out of the west. All sail was spread, the ships began to jump and gore the waves and The Star ran away from the smaller ship and was soon out of sight. Weeks of rough going followed. Meanwhile Solomon stuck to his task. Every one was sick but Jack and the officers, and there was not much cooking to be done.
Because he had to take off his coat while he was working in the galley, Solomon gave the precious letter into Jack's keeping.
Near the end of the sixth week at sea they spied land.
"We cheered, for the ocean had shown us a tiger's heart," the young man wrote. "For weeks it had leaped and struck at us and tumbled us about. The crossing is more like hardship than anything that has happened to me. One woman died and was buried at sea. A man had his leg broken by being thrown violently against the bulwarks and the best of us were bumped a little.
"Some days ago a New Yorker who was suspected of cheating at cards on the complaint of several passengers was put on trial and convicted through the evidence of one who had seen him marking a pack of the ship's cards. He was condemned to be carried up to the round top and made fast there, in view of all the ship's company for three hours and to pay a fine of two bottles of brandy. He refused to pay his fine and we excommunicated the culprit refusing either to eat, drink or speak with him until he should submit. Today he gave up and paid his fine. Man is a sociable being and the bitterest of all punishments is exclusion. He couldn't stand it."
About noon on the twenty-ninth of November they made Dover and anchored in the Downs. Deal was about three miles away and its boats came off for them. They made a circuit and sailed close in shore. Each boat that went out for passengers had its own landing. Its men threw a rope across the breakers. This was quickly put on a windlass. With the rope winding on its windlass the boat was slowly hauled through the surge, its occupants being drenched and sprinkled with salt water. They made their way to the inn of The Three Kings where two men stood watching as they approached. One of them Jack recognized as the man Slops with the black pipe in his mouth.
"That's him," said the man with the black pipe pointing at Solomon, whereupon the latter was promptly arrested.
"What have I done?" he asked.
"You'll learn directly at 'eadquarters," said the officer.
Solomon shook hands with Jack and said: "I'm glad I met ye," and turned and walked away with the two men.
Jack was tempted to follow them but feeling a hidden purpose in Solomon's conduct went into the inn.
So the friends parted. Jack being puzzled and distressed by the swift change in the color of their affairs. The letter to Doctor Franklin was in his pocket--a lucky circumstance. He decided to go to London and deliver the letter and seek advice regarding the relief of Solomon. At the desk in the lobby of The Three Kings he learned that he must take the post chaise for Canterbury which would not be leaving until six P.M. This gave him time to take counsel in behalf of his friend. Turning toward the door he met Captain Preston, who greeted him with great warmth and wished to know where was Major Binkus.
Jack told the Captain of the arrest of his friend.
"I expected it," said Preston. "So I have waited here for your ship. It's that mongrel chap on The Star who got a tarring from Binkus and his friends. He saw Binkus on your deck, as I did, and proclaimed his purpose. So I am here to do what I can to help you. I can not forget that you two men saved my life. Are there any papers on his person which are likely to make him trouble?"
"No," said Jack, thinking of the letter lying safely in his own pocket.
"That's the important thing," Preston resumed. "Binkus is a famous scout who is known to be anti-British. Such a man coming here is supposed to be carrying papers. Between ourselves they would arrest him on any pretext. You leave this matter in my hands. If he had no papers he'll be coming on in a day or two."
"I'd like to go with you to find him," said Jack.
"Better not," Preston answered with a smile.
"Why?"
"Because I suspect you have the papers. They'll get you, too, if they learn you are his friend. Keep away from him. Sit quietly here in the inn until the post chaise starts for Canterbury. Don't let any one pick a quarrel with you and remember this is all a sacred confidence between friends."
"I thank you and my heart is in every word," said Jack as he pressed the hand of the Captain. "After all friendship is a thing above politics--even the politics of these bitter days."
3
He sat down with a sense of relief and spent the rest of the afternoon reading the London papers although he longed to go and look at the fortress of Deal Castle. He had tea at five and set out on the mail carriage, with his box and bag, an hour later. The road was rough and muddy with deep holes in it. At one point the chaise rattled and bumped over a plowed field. Before dark he saw a man hanging in a gibbet by the roadside. At ten o'clock they passed the huge gate of Canterbury and drew up at an inn called The King's Head. The landlady and two waiters attended for orders. He had some supper and went to bed. Awakened at five A.M. by the sound of a bugle he arose and dressed hurriedly and found the post chaise waiting. They went on the King's Road from Canterbury and a mile out they came to a big, white gate in the dim light of the early morning.
A young man clapped his mouth to the window and shouted:
"Sixpence, Yer Honor!"
It was a real turnpike and Jack stuck his head out of the window for a look at it. They stopped for breakfast at an inn far down the pike and went on through Sittingborn, Faversham, Rochester and the lovely valley of the River Medway of which Jack had read.
At every stop it amused him to hear the words "Chaise an' pair," flying from host to waiter and waiter to hostler and back in the wink of an eye.
Jack spent the night at The Rose in Dartford and went on next morning over Gadshill and Shootershill and Blackheath. Then the Thames and Greenwich and Deptfort from which he could see the crowds and domes and towers of the big city. A little past two o'clock he rode over London bridge and was set down at The Spread Eagle where he paid a shilling a mile for his passage and ate his dinner.
Such, those days, was the crossing and the trip up to London, as Jack describes it in his letters.
CHAPTER V
JACK SEES LONDON AND THE GREAT PHILOSOPHER
The stir and prodigious reach of London had appalled the young man. His fancy had built and peopled it, but having found no sufficient material for its task in New York, Boston and Philadelphia, had scored a failure. It had built too small and too humbly. He was in no way prepared for the noise, the size, the magnificence, the beauty of it. In spite of that, something in his mental inheritance had soon awakened a sense of recognition and familiarity. He imagined that the sooty odor and the bells, and the clatter of wheels and horses' feet and the voices--the air was full of voices--were like the echoes of a remote past.
The thought thrilled him that somewhere in the great crowd, of which he was now a part, were the two human beings he had come so far to see. He put on his best clothes and with the letter which had been carefully treasured--under his pillow at night and pinned to his pocket lining through the day--set out in a cab for the lodgings of Doctor Franklin. Through a maze of streets where people were "thick as the brush in the forests of Tryon County" he proceeded until after a journey of some thirty minutes the cab stopped at the home of the famous American on Bloomsbury Square. Doctor Franklin was in and would see him presently, so the liveried servant informed the young man after his card had been taken to the Doctor's office. He was shown into a reception room and asked to wait, where others were waiting. An hour passed and the day was growing dusk when all the callers save Jack had been disposed of. Then Franklin entered. Jack remembered the strong, well-knit frame and kindly gray eyes of the philosopher. His thick hair, hanging below his collar, was now white. He was very grand in a suit of black Manchester velvet with white silk stockings and bright silver buckles on his shoes. There was a gentle dignity in his face when he took the boy's hand and said with a smile:
"You are so big, Jack. You have built a six foot, two inch man out of that small lad I knew in Albany, and well finished, too--great thighs, heavy shoulders, a mustache, a noble brow and shall I say the eye of Mars? It's a wonder what time and meat and bread and potatoes and air can accomplish. But perhaps industry and good reading have done some work on the job."
Jack blushed and answered. "It would be hard to fix the blame."
Franklin put his hand on the young man's shoulder and said:
"She is a lovely girl, Jack. You have excellent good taste. I congratulate you. Her pulchritude has a background of good character and she is alive with the spirit of the New World. I have given her no chance to forget you if that had been possible. Since I became the agent in England of yourself and sundry American provinces, I have seen her often but never without longing for the gift of youth. How is my family?"
"They are well. I bring you letters."
"Come up to my office and we'll give an hour to the news."
When they were seated before the grate fire in the large, pleasant room above stairs whose windows looked out upon the Square, the young man said:
"First I shall give you, sir, a letter from Major Washington. It was entrusted to a friend of mine who came on the same ship with me. He was arrested at Deal but, fortunately, the letter was in my pocket."
"Arrested? Why?"
"I think, sir, the charge was that he had helped to tar and feather a British subject."
"Feathers and tar are poor arguments," the Doctor remarked as he broke the seal of the letter.
It was a long letter and Franklin sat for near half an hour thoughtfully reading and rereading it. By and by he folded and put it into his pocket, saying as he did so: "An angry man can not even trust himself. I sent some letters to America on condition that they should be read by a committee of good men and treated in absolute confidence and returned to me. Certain members of that committee had so much gun powder in their hearts it took fire and their prudence and my reputation have been seriously damaged, I fear. The contents of those letters are now probably known to you."
"Are they the Hutchinson, Rogers and Oliver letters?"
"The same."
"I think they are known to every one in America that reads. We were indignant that these men born and raised among us should have said that a colony ought not to enjoy all the liberties of a parent state and that we should be subjected to coercive measures. They had expressed no such opinion save in these private letters. It looked like a base effort to curry favor with the English government."
"Yes, they were overworking the curry comb," said Franklin. "I had been protesting against an armed force in Boston. The government declared that our own best people were in favor of it. I, knowing better, denied the statement. To prove their claim a distinguished baronet put the letters in my hands. He gave me leave to send them to America on condition that they should not be published. Of course they proved nothing but the treachery of Hutchinson, Rogers and Oliver. Now I seem to be tarred by the same stick."
Jack delivered sundry letters from the family of the great man who read them carefully.
"It's good to hear from home," he said when he had finished. "You've heard of the three Greenlanders, off the rocks and ice where there was not dirt enough to raise a bushel of cabbages or light enough for half the year to make a shadow, who having seen the world and its splendors said it was interesting, but that they would prefer to live at home?"
"These days America is an unhappy land," said Jack. "We are like a wildcat in captivity--a growling, quarrelsome lot."
"Well, the British use the right to govern us like a baby rattle and they find us a poor toy. This petty island, compared with America, is but a stepping stone in a brook. There's scarcely enough of it out of water to keep one's feet dry. In two generations our population will exceed that of the British Isles. But with so many lying agents over there what chance have they to learn anything about us? They will expect to hear you tell of people being tomahawked in Philadelphia--a city as well governed as any in England. They can not understand that most of us would gladly spend nineteen shillings to the pound for the right to spend the other shilling as we please."
"Can they not be made to understand us?" Jack inquired.
"The power to learn is like your hand--you must use it or it will wither and die. There are brilliant intellects here which have lost the capacity to learn. I think that profound knowledge is not for high heads."
"I wonder just what you mean."
"Oh, the moment you lose humility, you stop learning," the Doctor went on. "There are two doors to every intellect. One lets knowledge in, the other lets it out. We must keep both doors in use. The mind is like a purse: if you keep paying out money, you must, now and then, put some into your purse or it will be empty. I once knew a man who was a liberal spender but never did any earning. We soon found that he had been making counterfeit money. The King's intellects have often put me in mind of him. They are flush with knowledge but they never learn anything. They can tell you all you may want to know but it is counterfeit knowledge."
"How about Lord North?"
"He has nailed up the door. The African zebra is a good student compared to him. It is a maxim of Walpole and North that all men are equally corrupt."
"It is a hateful notion!" Jack exclaimed.
"But not without some warrant. You may be sure that a man who has spent his life in hospitals will have no high opinion of the health of mankind. He and his friends are so engrossed by their cards and cock fights and horses and hounds that they have little time for such a trivial matter as the problems of America. They postpone their consideration and meanwhile the house is catching fire. By and by these boys are going to get burned. They think us a lot of semi-savages not to be taken seriously. Our New England farmers are supposed to be like the peasants of Europe. The fact is, our average farmer is a man of better intellect and character than the average member of Parliament."
"The King's intellects would seem to be out of order," said Jack.
"And too cynical. They think only of revenues. They remind me of the report of the Reverend Commissary Blair who, having projected a college in Virginia, came to England to ask King William for help. The Queen in the King's absence ordered her Attorney-General to draw a charter with a grant of two thousand pounds. The Attorney opposed it on the ground that they were in a war and needed the money for better purposes.
"'But, Your Honor, Virginia is in great need of ministers,' said the commissary. 'It has souls to be saved.'
"'Souls--damn your souls! Make tobacco,' said the Queen's lawyer.
"The counselors of royalty have no high opinion of souls or principles. Think of these taxes on exports needed by neighbors. The minds that invented them had the genius of a pickpocket."
"I see that you are not in love with England, sir," said Jack.
"My boy, you do not see straight," the Doctor answered. "I am fond of England. At heart she is sound. The King is a kind of wooden leg. He has no feeling and no connection whatever with her heart and little with her intellect. The people are out of sympathy with the King. The best minds in England are directly opposed to the King's policy; so are most of the people, but they are helpless. He has throttled the voting power of the country. Jack, I have told you all this and shall tell you more because--well, you know Plato said that he would rather be a blockhead than have all knowledge and nobody to share it. You ought to know the truth but I have told you only for your own information."
"I am going to write letters to The Gazette but I shall not quote you, sir, without permission," said Jack.
At this point the attendant entered and announced that Mr. Thomas Paine had called to get his manuscript.
"Bring him up," said the Doctor.
In a moment a slim, dark-eyed man of about thirty-three in shabby, ill-fitting garments entered the room.
Doctor Franklin shook his hand and gave him a bundle of manuscript and said:
"It is well done but I think it unsound. I would not publish it."
"Why?" Paine asked with a look of disappointment.
"Well, it is spitting against the wind and he who spits against the wind spits in his own face. It would be a dangerous book. Think how great a portion of mankind are weak and ignorant men and women; think how many are young and inexperienced and incapable of serious thought. They need religion to support their virtue and restrain them from vice. If men are so wicked with religion what would they be without it? Lay the manuscript away and we will have a talk about it later."
"I should like to talk with you about it," the man answered with a smile and departed, the bundle under his arm.
"Now, Jack," said Franklin, as he looked at his watch, "I can give you a quarter of an hour before I must go and dress for dinner. Please tell me about your resources. Are you able to get married?"
Jack told him of his prospects and especially of the generosity of his friend Solomon Binkus and of the plight the latter was in.
"He must be a remarkable man," said Franklin. "With Preston's help he will be coming on to London in a day or so. If necessary you and I will go down there. We shall not neglect him. Have you any dinner clothes? They will be important to you."
"I thought, sir, that I should best wait until I had arrived here."
"You thought wisely. I shall introduce you to a good cloth mechanic. Go to him at once and get one suit for dinner and perhaps two for the street. It costs money to be a gentleman here. It's a fine art. While you are in London you'll have to get the uniform and fall in line and go through the evolutions or you will be a 'North American savage.' You shall meet the Hares in my house as soon as your clothes are ready. Ask the tailor to hurry up. They must be finished by Wednesday noon. You had better have lodgings near me. I will attend to that for you."
The Doctor sat down and wrote on a number of cards. "These will provide for cloth, linen, leather and hats," he said. "Let the bills be sent to me. Then you will not be cheated. Come in to-morrow at half after two."
2
Jack bade the Doctor good night and drove to The Spread Eagle where, before he went to bed, he wrote to his parents and a long letter to The Pennsylvania Gazette, describing his voyage and his arrival substantially as the facts are here recorded. Next morning he ordered every detail in his "uniforms" for morning and evening wear and returning again to the inn found Solomon waiting in the lobby.
"Here I be," said the scout and trapper.
"What happened to you?"
"S'arched an' shoved me into a dark hole in the wall. Ye know, Jack, with you an' me, it allus 'pears to be workin'."
"What?"
"Good luck. Cur'us thing the papers was on you 'stid of me--ayes, sir, 'twas. Did ye hand 'em over safe?"
"Last night I put 'em in Franklin's hands."
"Hunkidory! I'm ready fer to go hum."
"Not yet I hope. I want you to help me see the place."
"Wall, sir, I'll be p'intin' fer hum soon es I kin hop on a ship. Couldn't stan' it here, too much noise an' deviltry. This 'ere city is like a twenty-mile bush full o' drunk Injuns--Maumees, hostyle as the devil. I went out fer a walk an' a crowd follered me eround which I don't like it. 'Look at the North American,' they kep' a-sayin'. As soon as I touched shore the tommyhawk landed on me. But fer Cap. Preston I'd be in that 'ere dark hole now. He see the Jedge an' the Jedge called fer Slops an' Slops had slopped over. He were layin' under a tree dead drunk. The Jedge let me go an' Preston come on with me. Now 'twere funny he turned up jest as he done; funny I got app'inted cook o' The Snow so as I had to give that 'ere paper to you. I tell ye it's workin'--allus workin'."
"Doctor Franklin wants to see you," said Jack. "Put on your Sunday clothes an' we'll go over to his house. I think I can lead you there. If we get lost we'll jump into a cab."
When they set out Solomon was dressed in fine shoes and brown wool stockings and drab trousers, a butternut jacket and blue coat, and a big, black three-cornered hat. His slouching gait and large body and weathered face and the variety of colors in his costume began at once to attract the attention of the crowd. A half-drunk harridan surveyed him, from top to toe, and made a profound bow as he passed. A number of small boys scurried along with them, curiously staring into the face of Solomon.
"Ain't this like comin' into a savage tribe that ain't seen no civilized human bein' fer years?"
"Wot is it?" a voice shouted.
"'E's a blarsted bush w'acker from North Hamerica, 'e is," another answered.
Jack stopped a cab and they got into it.
"Show us some of the great buildings and land us in an hour at 10 Bloomsbury Square, East," he said.
With a sense of relief they were whisked away in the stream of traffic.
They passed the King's palace and the great town houses of the Duke of Bedford and Lord Balcarras, each of which was pointed out by the driver. Suddenly every vehicle near them stopped, while their male occupants sat with bared heads. Jack observed a curious procession on the sidewalk passing between two lines of halted people.
"Hit's their Majesties!" the driver whispered under his breath.
The King--a stout, red-nosed, blue-jowled man, with big, gray, staring eyes--was in a sedan chair surmounted by a crown. He was dressed in light cloth with silver buttons. Queen Charlotte, also in a chair, was dressed in lemon colored silk ornamented with brocaded flowers. The two were smiling and bowing as they passed. In a moment the procession entered a great gate. Then there was a crack of whips and the traffic resumed its hurried pace.
"Hit's their Majesties, sir, goin' to a drawin'-room at Lord Rawdon's, sir," the driver explained as he drove on.
"Did you see the unnatural look in his gray eyes?" said Jack, turning to Solomon.
"Ayes! Kind o' skeered like! 'Twere a han'some yoke o' men totin' him--well broke, too, I guess. Pulled even an' nobody yellin' gee er haw er whoa hush."
"You know it isn't proper for kings and queens to walk in public," Jack answered.
Again Solomon had on his shooting face. With his left eye closed, he took deliberate aim with the other at the subject before them and thus discharged his impressions.
"Uh huh! I suppose 'twouldn't do fer 'em to be like other folks so they have to have some extry pairs o' legs to kind o' put 'on when they go ou'doors. I wonder if they ain't obleeged to have an extry set o' brains fer public use."
"They have quantities of 'em all made and furnished to order and stored in the court," said Jack. "His own mind is only for use in the private rooms."
"I should think 'twould git out o' order," Solomon remarked. "It does. They say he's been as crazy as a loon."
Soon the two observers became interested in a band of sooty-faced chimney sweeps decorated with ribbands and gilt paper. They were making musical sounds with their brushes and scrapers and soliciting gifts from the passing crowd and, now and then, scrambling for tossed coins.
In the Ave Mary Lane they saw a procession of milk men and maids carrying wreaths of flowers on wheelbarrows, the first of which held a large white pyramid which seemed to be a symbol of their calling. They were also begging.
"It's a lickpenny place," said Jack.
"Somebody's got to do some 'arnin' to pay fer all the foolin' eround," Solomon answered. "If I was to stay here I'd git myself ragged up like these 'ere savages and jine the tribe er else I'd lose the use o' my legs an' spend all my money bein' toted. I ain't used to settin' down when I move, you hear to me."
"I'll take you to Doctor Franklin's tailor," Jack proposed.
"Major Washington tol' me whar to go. I got the name an' the street all writ down plain in my wallet but I got t' go hum."
They had stopped at the door of the famous American. Jack and Solomon went in and sat down with a dozen others to await their turn.
When they had been conducted to the presence of the great man he took Solomon's hand and said:
"Mr. Binkus, I am glad to bid you welcome."
He looked down at the sinewy, big-boned, right hand of the scout, still holding it.
"Will you step over to the window a moment and give me a look at your hands?" he asked.
They went to the window and the Doctor put on his spectacles and examined them closely.
"I have never seen such an able, Samsonian fist," he went on. "I think the look of those hands would let you into Paradise. What a record of human service is writ upon them! Hands like that have laid the foundations of America. They have been generous hands. They tell me all I need to know of your spirit, your lungs, your heart and your stomach."
"They're purty heavy--that's why I genially carry 'em in my pockets when I ain't busy," said Solomon.
"Over here a pair of hands like that are thought to be a disgrace. They are like the bloody hands of Macbeth. Certain people would look at them and say: 'My God, man, you are guilty of hard work. You have produced food for the hungry and fuel for the cold. You are not an idler. You have refused to waste your time with Vice and Folly. Avaunt and quit my sight.' In America every one works--even the horse, the ass and the ox. Only the hog is a gentleman. There are many mischievous opinions in Europe but the worst is that useful labor is dishonorable. Do you like London?"
Solomon put his face in shape for a long shot. Jack has written that he seemed to be looking for hostile "Injuns" some distance away and to be waiting for another stir in the bushes. Suddenly he pulled his trigger.
"London an' I is kind o' skeered o' one 'nother. It 'minds me o' the fust time I run into ol' Thorny Tree. They was a young brave with him an' both on 'em had guns. They knowed me an' I knowed them. Looked as if there'd have to be some killin' done. We both made the sign o' friendship an' kep' edgin' erway f'm one 'nother careless like but keepin' close watch. Sudden as scat they run like hell in one direction an' I in t'other. I guess I look bad to London an' London looks bad to me, but I'll have to do all the runnin' this time."
The Doctor laughed. "It ha' never seen a man just like you before," he observed. "I saw Sir Jeffrey Amherst this morning and told him you were in London. He is fond of you and paid you many compliments and made me promise to bring you to his home."
"I'd like to smoke a pipe with ol' Jeff," Solomon answered. "They ain't no nonsense 'bout him. I learnt him how to talk Injun an' read rapids an' build a fire with tinder an' elbow grease. He knows me plenty. He staked his life on me a dozen times in the Injun war."
"How is Major Washington?" the Doctor asked.
"Stout as a pot o' ginger," Solomon answered. "I rassled with him one evenin' down in Virginny an' I'll never tackle him ag'in, you hear to me. His right flipper is as big as mine an' when it takes holt ye'd think it were goin' to strip the shuck off yer soul."
"He's in every way a big man," said the Doctor. "On the whole, he's about our biggest man. An officer who came out of the ambuscade at Fort Duquesne with thirty living men out of three companies and four shot holes in his coat must have an engagement with Destiny. Evidently his work was not finished. You have traveled about some. What is the feeling over there toward England?"
"They're like a b'ilin' pot everywhere. England has got to step careful now."
"Tell Sir Jeffrey that, if you see him, just that. Don't mince matters. Jack, I'll send my man with you and Mr. Binkus to show you the new lodgings. We found them this morning."
CHAPTER VI
THE LOVERS
The fashionable tailor was done with Jack's equipment. Franklin had seen and approved the admirably shaped and fitted garments. The young man and his friend Solomon had moved to their new lodgings on Bloomsbury Square. The scout had acquired a suit for street wear and was now able to walk abroad without exciting the multitudes. The Doctor was planning what he called "a snug little party." So he announced when Jack and Solomon came, adding:
"But first you are to meet Margaret and her mother here at half after four."
Jack made careful preparation for that event. Fortunately it was a clear, bright day after foggy weather. Solomon had refused to go with Jack for fear of being in the way.
"I want to see her an' her folks but I reckon ye'll have yer hands full to-day," he remarked. "Ye don't need no scout on that kind o' reconnoiterin'. You go on ahead an' git through with yer smackin an' bym-by I'll straggle in."
Precisely at four thirty-five Jack presented himself at the lodgings of his distinguished friend. He has said in a letter, when his dramatic adventures were all behind him, that this was the most thrilling moment he had known. "The butler had told me that the ladies were there," he wrote. "Upon my word it put me out of breath climbing that little flight of stairs. But it was in fact the end of a long journey. It is curious that my feeling then should remind me, as it does, of moments when I have been close up to the enemy, within his lines, and lying hard against the ground in some thicket while British soldiers were tramping so near I could feel the ground shake. In the room I saw Lady Hare and Doctor Franklin standing side by side. What a smile he wore as he looked at me! I have never known a human being who had such a cheering light in his countenance. I have seen it brighten the darkest days of the war aided by the light of his words. His faith and good cheer were immovable. I felt the latter when he said:
"'See the look of alarm in his face. Now for a pretty drama!'
"Mrs. Hare gave me her hand and I kissed it and said that I had expected to see Margaret and hoped that she was not ill. There was a thistledown touch on my cheek from behind and turning I saw the laughing face I sought looking up at me. I tell you, my mother, there never was such a pair of eyes. Their long, dark lashes and the glow between them I remember chiefly. The latter was the friendly light of her spirit To me it was like a candle in the window to guide my feet. 'Come,' it seemed to say. 'Here is a welcome for you.' I saw the pink in her cheeks, the crimson in her lips, the white of her neck, the glow of her abundant hair, the shapeliness of brow and nose and chin in that first glance. I saw the beating of her heart even. I remember there was a tiny mole on her temple under the edge of that beautiful, golden crown of hers. It did not escape my eye. I tell you she was fair as the first violets in Meadowvale on a dewy morning. Of course she was at her best. It was the last moment in years of waiting in which her imagination had furnished me with endowments too romantic. I have seen great moments, as you know, but this is the one I could least afford to give up. I had long been wondering what I should do when it came. Now it was come and there was no taking thought of what we should do. That would seem to have been settled out of court. I kissed her lips and she kissed mine and for a few moments I think we could have stood in a half bushel measure. Then the Doctor laughed and gave her Ladyship a smack on the cheek.
"'I don't know about you, my Lady, but it fills me with the glow of youth to see such going on,' he remarked. 'I'm only twenty-one and nobody knows it--nobody suspects it even. These wrinkles and gray hair are only a mask that covers the heart of a boy.'
"'I confess that such a scene does push me back into my girlhood,' said Lady Hare. 'Alas! I feel the old thrill.'
"Franklin came and stood before us with his hands Upon our shoulders, his face shining with happiness. "'Margaret, a woman needs something to hold on to in this slippery world,' said he. 'Here is a man that stands as firm as an oak tree.'
"He kissed us as did Lady Hare, also, and then we all sat down together and laughed. I would not forget, if I could, that we had to wipe our eyes. No, my life has not been all blood and iron.
"Would you not call it a wonder that we had kept the sacred fire which had been kindled in our hearts, so long before, and our faith in each other? It is because we were both of a steadfast breed of folk--the English--trained to cling to the things that are worth while. Once they think they are right how hard it is to turn them aside! Let us never forget that some of the best of our traits have come from England.
"Suddenly Solomon arrived. Of course where Solomon is one would expect solecisms. They were not wanting. I had not tried to prepare him for the ordeal. Solomon is bound to be himself wherever he is, am why not? There is no better man living.
"'You're as purty as a golden robin,' he said to Margaret, shaking her hand in his big one.
"He was not so much put out as I thought he would be. I never saw a gentler man with women. As hard as iron in a fight there has always been a curious veil of chivalry in the old scout. He stood and joked with the girl, in his odd fashion, and set us all laughing. Margaret and her mother enjoyed his talk and spoke of it, often, after that.
"'Wal, Mis Hare,' he said to Her Ladyship, 'if ye graft this 'ere sprout on yer fam'ly tree I'll bet ye a pint o' powder an' a fish hook ye won't never be sorry fer it.'
"It did not seem to occur to him that there were those to whom a pint of powder and a fish hook would be no great temptation."