Katherine looked proudly at the boy, but Hyde had a long fit of musing.

"Yes," he answered at length, "a brave man always helps those who need

it most. Your father's letter, Katherine, stirs me wonderfully. Those

Americans show the old Saxon love of liberty. Hear how one of them

speaks for his people: 'Blandishments will not fascinate us, nor will

threats of a halter intimidate. For, under God, we are determined that

wheresoever, whensoever, or howsoever we shall be called to make our

exit, we will die free men.' Such men ought to be free, Katherine, and

they will be free."

It was at this moment that Lettice came in with a bundle of newspapers:

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"They be brought by Sir Thomas Swaffham's man, sir, with Sir Thomas's

compliments; there being news he thinks you would like to read, sir."

Katherine turned promptly. "Spiced ale and bread and meat give to the

man, Lettice; and to Sir Thomas and Lady Swaffham remind him to take

our respectful thanks."

Hyde opened the papers with eager curiosity. Little Joris was again with

Tromp and Blake in the channel; and Katherine, remembering some

household duty, left the father and son to their private enthusiasms.

She was restless and anxious, for she had one of those temperaments that

love a settled and orderly life. It would soon be spring, and there were

a thousand things about the house and garden which would need her

attention if they were to remain at Hyde. If not, her anxieties in other

directions would be equally numerous and necessary. She stood at the

window looking into the white garden close. Something about it recalled

her father's garden; and she fell into such a train of tender memories

that when Hyde called quickly, "Kate, Kate!" she found that there were

tears in her eyes, and that it was with an effort and a sigh her soul

returned to its present surroundings.

Hyde was walking about the room in great excitement,--his tall, nervous

figure unconsciously throwing itself into soldierly attitudes; his dark,

handsome face lit by an interior fire of sympathetic feeling.

"I must draw my sword again, Katherine," he said, as his hand

impulsively went to his left side,--"I must draw my sword again. I

thought I had done with it forever; but, by St. George, I'll draw it in

this quarrel!"

"The American quarrel, Richard?"

"No other could so move me. We have the intelligence now of their

congress. They have not submitted; they have not drawn back, not an

inch; they have not quarrelled among themselves. They have unanimously

voted for non-importation, non-exportation, and non-consumption. They

have drawn up a declaration of their rights. They have appealed to the

sympathies of the people of Canada, and they have resolved to support by

arms all their brethren unlawfully attacked. Hurrah, Katherine! Every

good man and true wishes them well."




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