“And what if it is true that the Spanish governor will not let you land there?” Milly questioned. “The men on that Marietta keel that went up last night told father so. They said the dons had mounted a twelve-gun battery on the levee and would sink the first Yankee boat that comes down.”
“That may not be true,” replied Marion, doubtfully. “But let them try that if they dare. New Orleans is the front door of this whole great country, and woe be to those who try shut it in our faces.”
“But, if there is fighting, do try to keep out of it, Marion!” exclaimed the girl.
“The fighting would be short,” said the young man. “Don’t you worry about that, Milly. They do say Thomas Jefferson is figuring to buy up that whole country down there and send the Spaniards home.”
“But, father says that savage man, Napoleon Bonaparte, means to seize this whole country up the Mississippi for France. Father says that a French fleet may be at New Orleans before you get down there, and that’s the real reason,” Milly continued, lowering her voice, “why father wouldn’t send Jerry with the other horses. He is afraid you will lose them all. And Aunt Betty Lord is only sending half her winter’s spinning of yarn—she’s so afraid the French will get it!”
Marion laughed. “There’s cargo enough without Aunt Betty’s yarn,” said he. “We’ve never sent so much before, even though we don’t carry those twenty barrels of Claiborne peach brandy and whisky. I’m worried about Uncle Amasa. He ought to have been back. I’d hate to have to go without Jimmy, now that everything’s straightened out.”
“What did Master Hempstead tell you, Marion?”
For she knew that the schoolmaster had had a long talk with the young captain on the day following the fire.
“Why,” said Marion, “he said that he was on his way to take toll of the peach brandy in the shed, when he saw that the shed was on fire, and he heard the hoofs of a horse being ridden away at a gallop. Then Jimmy Claiborne came along and accused him of trying to steal their whisky, and they began fighting. When the master fell, Jimmy ran away, probably afraid that he’d killed him. Then, probably, he saw from the woods that the fire was destroying everything, and he came back to help.
“Master Hempstead said he expected to be discharged. He felt more humiliated at having been a disgrace to a noble profession than from any personal loss of dignity.”