“One can see how the land lies now,” cried Marble, lighting a segar, for he thought no apology necessary for smoking under a Dutch roof.  “The master taught his scholar something more than he found in the spelling-book, or the catechism.  We’ll take your word about the school-house, seeing it is out of view.”

“It was out of sight, truly, and that may have been the reason my parents took it so hard when George Wetmore asked their leave to marry me.  This was not done until he had walked home with me, or as near home as the brow on yon hill, for a whole twelvemonth, and had served a servitude almost as long, and as patient, as that of Jacob for Rachel.”

“Well, mother, how did the old people receive the question?  Like good-natured parents, I hope, for George’s sake.”

“Rather say like the children of Holland, judging of the children of New England.  They would not hear of it, but wished me to marry my own cousin, Petrus Storm, who was not greatly beloved even in his own family.”

“Of course you down anchor, and said you never would quit the moorings of home?”

“If I rightly understand you, sir, I did something very different.  I got privately married to George, and he kept school near a twelvemonth longer, up behind the hill, though most of the young women were taken away from his teaching.”

“Ay, the old way; the door was locked after the horse was stolen!  Well, you were married, mother——­”

“After a time, it was necessary for me to visit a kinswoman who lived a little down the river.  There my first child was born, unknown to my parents; and George gave it in charge to a poor woman who had lost her own babe, for we were still afraid to let our secret be known to my parents.  Now commenced the punishment for breaking the fifth commandment.”

“How’s that, Miles?” demanded Moses.  “Is it ag’in the commandments for a married woman to have a son?”

“Certainly not, my friend; though it is a breach of the commandments not to honour our parents.  This good woman alludes to her marrying contrary to the wishes of her father and mother.”

“Indeed I do, sir, and dearly have I been punished for it.  In a few weeks I returned home, and was followed by the sad news of the death of my first-born.  The grief of these tidings drew the secret from me; and nature spoke so loud in the hearts of my poor parents, that they forgave all, took George home, and ever afterwards treated him as if he also had been their own child.  But it was too late; had it happened a few weeks earlier, my own precious babe might have been saved to me.”

“You cannot know that, mother; we all die when our time comes.”

“His time had not come.  The miserable wretch to whom George trusted the boy, exposed him among strangers, to save herself trouble, and to obtain twenty dollars at as cheap a rate as possible——­”

“Hold!” I interrupted.  “In the name of Heaven, my good woman, in what year did this occur?”