“These ’ere British is good folks as fur as I’ve been able to look ’em over.  It’s the gov’ment that’s down on us an’ the gov’ment ain’t the people—­you hear to me.  They’s lots o’ good, friendly folks here, but I’m ready to go hum.  They’s a ship leaves Dover Thursday ’fore sunrise an’ my name is put down.”

Jack told them in detail of the unfortunate event of the morning.

Solomon whistled while his face began to get ready for a shot.

“Neevarious!” he exclaimed.  “Here’s suthin’ that’ll have to be ’tended to ’fore I take the water.”

“Clarke is full of hartshorn and vinegar,” said Preston.  “He was like that in America.  He could make more trouble in ten minutes than a regiment could mend in a year.  He is what you would call ’a mean cuss.’  But for him and Lord Cornwallis, I should be back in the service.  They blame me for the present posture of affairs in America.”

“Jack, I’m glad that young pup ain’t me,” said Solomon.  “Thar never was a man better cocalated to please a friend er hurt an enemy.  If he was to say pistols I guess that ol’ sling o’ yours would bu’st out laughin’ an’ I ain’t no idee he could stan’ a minnit in front o’ your hanger.”

“It’s bad business, and especially for you,” said Preston.  “Dueling is not so much in favor here as in France.  Of course there are duels, but the best people in England are set against the practise.  You would be sure to get the worst of it.  The old General is a favorite of the King.  He is booked for knighthood.  If you were to kill his son in the present state of feeling here, your neck would be in danger.  If you were to injure him you would have to make a lucky escape, or go to prison.  It is not a pleasant outlook for one who is engaged to an English girl.  He has a great advantage over you.”

“True, but it gives me a better chance to vindicate the courage of an American.  I shall fight.  I would rather die than lie down to such an insult.  There has been too much of that kind of talk here.  It can not go on in my hearing without being trumped.  If I were capable of taking such an insult, I could never again face the girl I love.  There must be an apology as public as the insult or a fight.  I don’t want to kill any man, but I must show them that their cap doesn’t fit me.”

Jack and Solomon sat up late.  The young man had tried to see Margaret that evening, but the door boy at Sir Benjamin’s had informed him that the family was not at home.  He rightly suspected that the boy had done this under orders from the Baronet.  He wrote a long letter to the girl apprising her of late developments in the relations of the ministry and Doctor Franklin, regarding which the latter desired no secrecy, and of his own unhappy situation.

“If I could bear such an insult in silence,” he added, “I should be unworthy of the fairest and dearest girl on earth.  With such an estimate of you, I must keep myself in good countenance.  Whatever happens, be sure that I am loving you with all my heart, and longing for the time when I can make you my wife.”