A little later she drew from her pocket a letter. “You must read that,” she said. “It is from the great Alexander Hamilton—yes, he will be great, he will play a wondrous part in the life of my new country. Read it Dyck.”
After he had read it, he said: “He was born a British subject here in these islands, and he goes to help Americans live according to British principles. With all my sane fellow-countrymen I am glad the Americans succeeded. Do you go to your Virginia, and I will come as soon as I have put my affairs in order.”
“I will not go without you—no, I will not go,” she persisted.
“Then we shall be married at once,” he declared. And so it was, and all the island was en fete, and when Sheila came to Dyck’s plantation the very earth seemed to rejoice. The slaves went wild with joy, and ate and drank their fill, and from every field there came the song:
“Hold up yo hands,
Hold up yo hands,
Bress de Lord for de milk and honey!
De big bees is a singin’,
My heart is held up and de bells is a ringin’;
Hold up yo hands,
Hold up yo hands!”
And sweetly solitary the two lived their lives, till one day, three months later, there came to the plantation the governor and his suite.
When they had dismounted, Lord Mallow said: “I bring you the pay of the British Government for something of what you have suffered, sir, and what will give your lady pleasure too, I hope. I come with a baronetcy given by the King. News of it came to me only this morning.”
Calhoun smiled. “Your honour, I can take no title, receive no honour. I have ended my life under the British flag. I go to live under the Stars and Stripes.”
The governor was astounded. “Your lady, sir, do you forget your lady?”
But Sheila answered: “The life of the new world has honours which have naught to do with titles.”