remember,” said Ben, “he said: ‘It’s easy to call a pack of rebels together, but not always so easy to actually get them together.’”

[26]“And you say he seemed to have a sort of—well—a look, while he said it.”

[26]

“It was a satisfaction to him. I could see that.”

“And then he bid your father not to say he was taken unawares, eh?”

“Just as he was going,” said Ben. He looked into Nat’s bronzed, thoughtful face and was surprised at its expression. “Why, you don’t think he really meant anything, do you?” he asked.

Nat shook his head.

“I don’t know. Sometimes crabbed old men delight in making meaningless threats. This may be one of them.”

He hung up his rifle upon a rack in the hall and sat down in a broad seat at the door. The beautiful suburb with its broad fields, white roads and stately houses was stretched out before him.

“Are there many Tories hereabouts?” he asked, after a space.

Ben nodded.

“Yes,” he replied, “a great many. And it’s the same way in the city. With a very few exceptions, it is only those who actually suffer[27] by the heavy taxes who are aroused and speak against the government.”

[27]

“The people of consequence, as you might call them, are then mostly Tories?”

Again Ben nodded.

“And they are proud of it,” said he. “Though I must say I can’t understand what they have to pride themselves on.” He pointed across some prosperous grain fields; behind a clump of heavy, thick-growing trees could be seen the outlines of a rather fine looking house. “That’s Cliveden, where the Chews live,” he continued. “The Tories meet there now and then and protest about the growing disloyalty to the king.”

For a long time Nat Brewster sat gazing straight ahead and pondering. Ben watched him curiously for awhile, then as his cousin said nothing more, remarked:

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