"I know, I know, Neil. I have been suffering lately the same cruel pain as yourself. I have not heard from Captain Jacobus for nearly a year. Something, I fear, is wrong; he takes so many risks."
"He is sailing as an American privateer. If he had been captured by the English, we should have heard of the capture."
"That is not all. I will tell you just what Jacobus would do, as soon as he was fairly out at sea, he would call his men together on deck, and pointing to the British colors, would say something like this: 'Men, I don't like that bunting, and I'm going to change it for the flag of our own country. If there is any one here that doesn't like the American flag, he can leave the ship in any way he chooses,' then down would go the British flag, and up, with rattling cheers, the American. So far he would be only in ordinary danger, but that is never enough for Jacobus; he would continue after this extraordinary fashion: 'Men, you have all heard of these French and Spanish alliances. As the son of a hundred thousand Dutchmen, I hate the Spaniards, and I'm going to fight and sink every Spanish ship I meet. Allies! To the deep sea with such allies! We want no Spanish allies; we want their ships though, and we'll take them wherever on the wide ocean we can find them.' Then he would put his hand on his first mate's shoulder and continue, 'Here's Jack Tyler, an Englishman from beard to boots, born in the city of London, and there's more on board like him. What does an Englishman want with Frenchmen? Nothing, only to fight them, and that we'll do wherever we meet them! And as for English ships coming our way, they're out of their course, and we'll have to give them a lesson they'll remember. So then, all of you, keep your eyes open for English, French, or Spanish sails. Nothing but American colors in American waters, and American water rolls round the world, as I take it.' So you see, Neil, Jacobus would always have a threefold enemy to fight, and I have not a doubt that was his first thought when he heard of our alliance with France and Spain. And though we might hear of his capture by a British vessel, it is not likely we should do so if he fell into the hands of a French or Spanish privateer. When you come from Philadelphia we will consider this circumstance; but now, good-bye, and good fortune go with you."
It did not take Neil long to go to the Semple house and obtain a change of clothing, and after this short delay nothing interfered with the prosperous course of his journey. The weather was delightful, and his heart so full of hope that he felt no fatigue. And he had such confidence in all Madame Jacobus said, or did, that no doubts as to finding Agnes troubled him. It was, however, too late in the evening of the day on which he reached Philadelphia, to make a call, and he contented himself with locating the house to which he had been directed. He found it in a quiet street, a small brick house, with white wooden shutters, and a tiny plot of garden in front. No sign of light or life appeared, and after walking a while in front of it, he returned to his inn and tried to sleep.
But he was not very successful. His hopes and his fears kept him waking. He fancied the house he had been directed to looked too silent and dark to be occupied; he longed for the daylight to come that he might settle this fear; and then the possibility of its reality made him sick with anxiety and suspense, holding a measure of hope, seemed better than certain disappointment. In the morning his rigid, upright business instinct asserted itself, and he felt that he must first attend to those affairs which were the ostensible reason of his journey. So it was the early afternoon before he was at liberty to gratify the hunger of his heart.
Happily, when he reached the house indicated, there were many signs of its occupancy; the windows were open, and he saw a young woman sitting near one of them, knitting. His knock was answered by her. He heard her move her chair and come leisurely toward the door, which she opened with the knitting in her hand, and a smile on her face.
"Does Mr. Wakefield live here?" he asked.
"This is his house, but he is not at home now."
"I was told that Miss Bradley of New York was staying here."
"She is here. Does thee want to see her?"