“Such sentiments as his are not altogether popular in this part of the town. Indeed, I don’t know but what they are actually dangerous.”
George Prentiss was watching the girl. There was a proud, perhaps even a scornful lift to her chin; and now, when she, with much composure, approached the furious old king’s man, his interest increased.
“Uncle,” she said. Instantly the torrent of heated words stopped and he turned to her. “Please come away. You will make yourself ill.”
“In a moment, my dear,” returned Merchant Camp, “in just a moment. First,” facing the throng, “I must try and bring these people back to a sense of their duty. I must endeavor, as an honest man, to make them see the scandal of their attempts to undermine the power of a kind sovereign.”
“Kind,” cried a voice. “Kind, did you say, Master Camp?—and he hiring Hessians and Brunswickers to cross the seas and murder us?”
“And why should he not?” the old Tory demanded. “Why should he not? Is it not given to him to chastise his rebellious rascals in whatever manner he will? Who are you—what are you that you should oppose the king’s desires, whatever they may be? A pack of scurvy villains, most of you. A parcel of rogues that should be ironed in the hold of one of yonder frigates. If I had the will of you, I’d——”
But here he was interrupted by the bull throated seaman, who had by this time risen to his feet.
“Belay, master,” said he. “The time has gone by when such as you can hector us as you please. It would be better for you if you kept your tongue between your teeth, old gentleman,” added the sailor. “As the matter rests, if you were a younger man, I’d try something else on you beside words.”
“What, you rascal!” sputtered the king’s man, wrathfully, “would you threaten me?”
He lifted his staff and made a quavering blow at the other; the girl cried out sharply, as the seaman tore the weapon from the old man’s hands.