The crowd scattered; the seamen quickly grasped the situation, for they picked up their dazed comrade and bustled him away just as a troop of mounted militia rode up.
The officer at the head of the party was a heavy-browed, sullen looking young man in a lieutenant’s dress. As none now remained of the throng save George, this person rode up to him and said curtly:
“Well, sir, and is General Putnam’s plain order against rioting not enough for you? Do you require to be personally warned?”
George Prentiss looked quietly into the frowning face.
“Perhaps,” said he, “it would be as well for you to inform yourself as to what has taken place.”
The lieutenant was about to make an ugly rejoinder, but just then the girl came forward.
“Brother,” she said, and it seemed to George that the proud lift of her chin was more accentuated than it had been before, “this gentleman is in no way to blame. If it had not been for his kindness, we might have fared rather badly.”
Here Merchant Camp also came forward. “Nephew,” said he to the colonial lieutenant, and his voice was not without a trace of humor, “I had not thought to ever welcome any one who wore that uniform. But I was well enough pleased to see you just now. As for the youth, it’s just as your sister says. He’s a fine up-standing fellow, whoever he is, and I shall be delighted to see more of him.”
Here he shook George warmly by the hand, and proceeded:
“Very like you know the business place of Mr. Dana. If you have nothing better to do some day, pray come and see me there. I shall think it a kindness.”