"Oh, everything. I say it's a damned shame to send British troops into Boston; I say it's a doubly damned shame to close the port and starve the poor; I say that Tommy Gage is in a dirty business, and I, for one, hope the Boston people will hold on until the British Parliament find their senses. Oh, I don't care who hears me!" he said, throwing off his coat and sword and plunging into the water-basin.
His servant came to the door for orders, but Girdwood bade him let him alone and seek a pot o' beer in the kitchen.
"I trust I have not shocked your loyalty, Mr. Cardigan," he said, using a towel vigorously.
"Oh no," I laughed.
"I don't mean to be discourteous," he added, smoothing his ruffled lace; "but sometimes I feel as though I must stand up on a hill and shout across the ocean to Parliament, 'Don't make fools of yourselves'!"
I was laughing so heartily that he turned around in humorous surprise.
"I'm afraid you are one of those disrespectful patriots," he said. "I never heard a Tory laugh at anything I said. Come, sir, pray repeat 'God save the King'!"
"God save"—we began together, then ended—"our country!"
I looked at him gravely. He, too, had grown serious. Presently he held out his hand. I took it in silence.
"Well, well," he said, "I had little thought of finding a comrade in our new cornet."