“But yourself, Monsieur!” Mother Jeanne ventured to remonstrate.
“No, no, woman,” he replied quickly, “I am not weary and have much work to do.”
The guests arrived presently, all three riding up to the door together. There was Doctor Thorndyke of Hopewell in his shabby plum-coloured coat and muddy boots, and with him two strangers, one from Boston, so Clotilde gathered from their talk, and one from Salem.
“We came in company,” said Doctor Thorndyke as he dismounted at the steps, “for our friend here tells me that a man rode after him half way from the last inn and that he fears some rascal may have got wind of the money that we carry.” He unstrapped his saddle bags and carried them into the house. “My faith,” he said, “but I am not often so valuable a man as I find myself to-night. I fairly jingle as I walk!”
Mère Jeanne, who was a famous cook, had prepared a supper fit for King George himself. Clotilde waited on the company and received a nod and smile from Doctor Thorndyke who was her old and well-loved friend. When the meal was ended and she came to carry the plates away, she found that the dishes had been pushed back and that each man had produced a leather bag and had poured out on the table a stream of gold, silver and copper money. Every kind of coin was there, clumsy pennies, silver shillings, Spanish gold pieces of eight. When all was counted and piled in a heap together it made a sum that caused Clotilde’s eyes to open wide and quite took her breath away. It was a strange sight, the pile of coins shining in the candlelight, the three eager faces lit by the yellow flame, with Stephen’s white and weary one resting against the back of his big armchair.
“Here, then,” she heard Doctor Thorndyke say as she was carrying away the last of the dishes, “is the money for our first fighting-ship, the gift of Massachusetts to the United Colonies. The sum has been generously given by rich and poor alike, for people are beginning to look a little into the future and to see that there will be need for such a ship and many others. It would have been a misfortune surely had we been robbed upon the way.”
“I can scarcely believe,” observed Stephen, “that there is any one in the colony capable of such a deed.”
“We boast some precious rascals in our midst,” said the man from Salem, “men who, if they would not do it of their own will, could easily be persuaded to the task by some one above them. I think that the authorities have got wind of our plan and, not daring to take so bold a step as to confiscate the money openly, would be glad to lay hold of it in some such way. However, the whole matter is a mere guess; there may have been no harm in the fellow who followed us. At any rate, we have arrived safely and the money for our ship lies here upon the table.” He filled his glass and held it up:
“Gentlemen,” he said, “I give you the American navy.”
“I have a further gift to add,” said Stephen as he rose with the others to drink the toast standing, “for I can see now that the great pine tree at the corner of my garden can be of better service than as a shelter to travellers on the King’s highway. It shall form the mast of our new vessel and shall put to sea flying the flag—of a new nation.”