“By all means, Your Excellency, take a bit of rest. I shall call you if the fellow comes.”
I turned to go and the colonel walked with me to the door, urging me to return and remain his guest that night. I thanked him, explaining an acceptance of his kind offer would depend on circumstances. He walked with me to my horse and with a side-glance at the house softly inquired:
“What do the people over the mountains and in Pennsylvania say about the Quebec Bill now before Parliament?”
“I do not remember hearing it mentioned. I do not think any of the settlers are interested in it.”
“Not interested!” he groaned. “And if it is approved[3] by Parliament the American colonies will be robbed of hundreds of thousands of square miles of territory. They will lose the lands which already have been given them in their own charters. Think of Virginia and Pennsylvania quarreling over the junction of two rivers when we stand fair to lose all the country west of the Alleghanies. Young man, there’s going to be war.” This was very softly spoken.
“We’re in it now,” I stupidly replied.
“I am speaking of war with England,” he whispered.
I could scarcely accept it as being a true prophecy. I was not disturbed by it. The quarreling between colonies and the mother-country was an old story. Hiding my skepticism I asked, “When will it begin?”
“It began in 1763, when the English Ministry decided to collect revenues from the colonies,” was the quiet reply. “It will soon be open war. I verily believe I am entertaining in my humble home to-day the last royal governor of Virginia.”