“But one profoundly grateful to his preserver,� replied the young man; and to old Rastus’s great astonishment he took Mistress Polly’s hand and gallantly kissed the tips of her fingers, albeit they were tinged with scarlet from her dye.
“Methinks, sir, it but ill becomes me to accept such thanks from one who confesses his disloyalty to King George,� Polly replied, still with seeming severity, “and whose name I do not even know. But since you are here, prithee take seat before the fire. For of necessity, sir, I have made a good Royalist of you, so far as your greatcoat covers you. See!� And with the clothes-stick she lifted the coat out of the kettle. “Not Cousin Charles’s own is a brighter scarlet!�
The stranger burst into a hearty laugh.
“Good faith, I had not thought to wear a scarlet coat!� he exclaimed.
“Yet, sir, it may stand you in good stead as you ride into Boston to-morrow,� replied Polly. “It was of that I thought as I dipped it. And now let us powder a little alum in the mortar to set the hue. I would not have thy loyalty wash out, sir, in the first shower that falls on you.�
As a consequence, one young patriot found himself powdering alum to dye his own coat scarlet. And midnight came and passed as he and Polly sat in front of the great brass kettle, and old Rastus nodded in the corner.
Beyond doubt they became better acquainted in this time; and Polly certainly learned the stranger’s name, for as the tall old clock in the corner struck one, she said, “It is now time to wring thy coat, John Fenderson.�
When wrung, it had still to be dried; and Polly put it for an hour into the warm brick oven.
Somewhat puckered from the dye, the garment still required pressing out; and to heat a sad-iron and accomplish this occupied yet another hour. The old clock struck three.
“Truly, John Fenderson, making a king’s man of thee has been a long task!� exclaimed Polly, as at last she held up the scarlet coat for inspection. “Don it, sir! I would even desire to mark the effect.� And what John Fenderson would not have done at the king’s command he appears now to have done without hesitation at Polly Callendar’s request. For between these two young people the grievous differences of Tory and Patriot had already been dispelled—in the dyeing of a coat before a fireplace.