some of the father's courage."
John Stevens' cheek reddened at the delicate insinuation against his courage, and he responded:
"Have I not, on more than one hard-fought field, established my claim to courage?"
"True, yet why shrink from this voyage?"
"A soothsayer once predicted that dire calamities would overcome me, were I ever to venture upon the sea."
At this Cheeseman and Drummond laughed and even the thoughtful Mr. Lawerence smiled. Though soothsayers in those days were not generally gainsaid, those four men at Drummond's house lived in advance of their age.
"Go on your voyage and save the sum in jeopardy," was Drummond's advice.
"If your going will make sure the sum, hesitate not a single moment," interposed Cheeseman.
"How much is involved?" asked the thoughtful Mr. Lawrerence.
"Eight hundred pounds."
"Quite a sum."
"Verily, it is. The amount would at this day relieve all my embarrassments; yet, if I go, I leave nothing behind, for my property is gone, and my family is unprovided for."
"Secure the eight hundred pounds and provide for them."
With this advices in mind, he went home, and that same evening Hugh Price, the young royalist, who lived with Sir William Berkeley at Greenspring, called to see him, and once more the voyage to London was discussed.
"By all means, go," Hugh advised. "It is your duty to go."
Mrs. Stevens was consulted and thought she should go also; she saw no reason in his taking a pleasure voyage and leaving his wife at home; but this was out of the question, for the baby was too young to endure the voyage; besides, the cost of taking her would more than double the expense. Then Mrs. Stevens, who thought only of a pleasant time, wanted to know why she could not be sent in his stead. He explained that it was a matter of business which a woman could not perform; but Mrs. Stevens became unreasonable, declaring:
"You wish to go to London and pass your time in gay society."
"I do not," he answered.
"Verily, you do. You tire already of your wife; you would seek another."
"Dorothe, I would wed no other woman living," answered John, with a sigh.
"They all say that; yet no sooner is the wife laid in the grave than they are anxious to find one younger and more fair."
"Women do the same," John ventured to urge in defence of his sex.
"Not so often as the men."
Then Mrs. Stevens began a harangue on the evils of second marriages and wound up by declaring they were compacts of the devil. John Stevens returned to the original question of his going to London.
"My friends all declare that it is my duty to go," he said.
"Your friends! who are your friends?"
"Drummond."
"An ignorant Scotchman."
Drummond was far from being ignorant, yet he stood not in favor with Mrs. Stevens.
"Mr. Lawerence advises it."
"He is a canting hypocrite."
"Mr. Edward Cheeseman also thinks it advisable."
"Verily, he is a scheming man, who will swindle you out of the eight hundred pounds when you have secured it."
"Hugh Price agrees with them."
"Does he?" asked Mrs. Stevens.
"He does."
"I don't believe it."
Hugh Price was, in her estimation, the perfection of manhood. He was of the same church, a thorough royalist and a close friend of Sir William Berkeley the deposed governor.
"Dorothe, I said he recommended it. Pray do not doubt it."
The matter was settled next day when Hugh Price himself said to Mrs. Stevens that it was best for her husband to go. She secretly resolved that during her husband's absence she would enjoy herself.
"John," she said, "if you are going away to London to enjoy yourself, you must leave with me two or three hundred pounds."
John Stevens interrupted her with a sarcastic laugh.
"Dorothe, had I two or three hundred pounds, I would not go."
"Verily, how do you expect me to pass the dreary interval of your absence, if I have no luxuries."
"Luxuries in our poor country are uncommon, and what few we have are expensive. Think not of luxuries, but rather of necessities. Husband the little money I shall be able to leave you and be prepared against adversity. I may never return."
"Wherefore not?" cried Mrs. Stevens. "Do you contemplate an elopement? You were seen holding converse with Susan Colgate."
Mrs. Stevens had, among other weaknesses, enough of the "green-eyed monster" to make herself miserable. Susan Colgate was a pretty maiden at Jamestown, whose charms John Stevens had praised in his wife's presence. He smiled at her interruption and, after assuring her that he had no intention of eloping, said:
"The ship may sink; then you and these two little children will be unprovided for. I beseech you, husband the little I leave."
"Have no fears, I shall care for them in some way; but I am not going to forego anything in anticipation of disaster. Surely you will come back. My great grief at the absence of my husband will rend my heart so sorely that I must needs have some pleasure to drive away the sorrow and perpetuate the bloom on these cheeks and the brightness in these eyes for you."
Silly John Stevens yielded to his wife and consented to set apart for luxuries some of the small amount he was to leave. Mrs. Stevens was born to squander. Ann Linkon had said of her:
"She could cast from the window more than the good husband could throw in at the door." But Ann was adjudged of slander, and ducked for the charge.
John paid his mother a visit before departing. That sweet, gentle mother greeted her unhappy son with, tears. It was seldom Dorothe permitted him to visit her. His mother knew it and always assumed a cheerfulness she was far from feeling. Ofttimes poor John had a hard struggle between duty to his mother and fidelity to wife. It was a struggle in which no earthly friend could aid him.
The day to sail came. At an early hour the vessel was to weigh anchor, and just as the approaching day began to paint the eastern horizon an orange hue, John rose and prepared to depart. All the town was quiet. His children were sleeping, and he bent over them and pressed a kiss upon the cheek of each, murmuring a faint:
"God bless you!"
"Shall I awake
