“I had supposed she would have been married by this time.  Mr. Drewett was thought to be engaged to her when I sailed.”

“Yes:  there is much talk about that, through the country; but they say Miss Lucy will never marry, until she has been of age a few weeks, in order that she may do what she pleases with her money, afore a husband can lay his hand on it.  Mr. Rupert is married, I s’pose you heard, sir—­and living away like a nabob with his bride, in one of the best houses in town.  Some people say, that he has a right in a part of old Mrs. Bradfort’s estate, which he will get as soon as Miss Lucy comes of age.”

I did not like to pursue this part of the discourse any further, though it was balm to my wounds to hear these tidings of Lucy.  The subject was too sacred, however, to be discussed with such a commentator, and I turned the discourse to Clawbonny, and the reports that might have circulated there concerning myself.  Green told me all he knew, which was briefly as follows: 

It seems that the second-mate of the Dawn, and such of her crew as had been put in the Speedy, and who had not been impressed either in the frigate itself, or in England after they were turned ashore, had found their way home, bringing with them an account of the capture of the ship, her extraordinary appearance near the four combatants, and their own attempt to escape.  This last affair, in particular, had made some noise in the journals—­a warm discussion having taken place on the subject of the right of Americans to run away with an English man-of-war’s boat, under the circumstances in which these poor fellows had found themselves placed.  In that day, parties in America took as lively an interest in the wars of Europe, as if the country were a belligerent; and politicians, or quasi statesmen, were little more than retailers of the most ultra English and ultra French opinions.  It was sufficient for the Federalists to justify any act, if England did it; while the Democrats had almost as strong a disposition to defend all the enormities which the policy of Napoleon led him to commit.  I say almost—­for, to deal honestly with posterity, I do not think the French-American party was quite as French as the English-American party was English.  These last had returned to their provincial dependence of thought; and, well-read in the English version of all political and moral truths, and little read in those of any other state of society, they believed, as he who worships at a distance from the shrine is known implicitly to yield his faith.  The English party had actually a foundation in deeply-rooted opinion, and colonial admiration for the ancient seat of power, whereas the French owed its existence principally to opposition.  The alliance of 1778 had some little influence among men old enough to have been active in the events of the revolution, it is true, but they existed as exceptions even in their own party.  It was the English feeling that was natural, hearty, dependent, and deep; the other having been, as has just been stated, rooted as much in opposition, as in any other soil.