“I’ll hear nae mair o’ such folly.—­Gie me my bonnet and plaid, madam, and I’ll be going.—­The King o’ England needna ask his Dutch subjects for leave to wear his crown, I’m thinking.”

“Subjects!” said Bram, flashing up.  “Subjection!  Well, then, Elder, Dutchmen don’t understand the word.  Spain found that out.”

“Hoots! dinna look sae far back, Bram.  It’s a far cry, to Alva and Philip.  Hae you naething fresher?  Gude-night, a’.  I hope the morn will bring you a measure o’ common sense.”  He was at the door as he spoke; but, ere he passed it, he lifted his bonnet above his head and said, “God save the king!  God save his gracious Majesty, George of England!”

Joris turned to his son.  To shut up the king’s customs was an overt action of treason.  Bram, then, had fully committed himself; and, following out his own thoughts, he asked abruptly, “What will come of it, Bram?”

“War will come, and liberty—­a great commonwealth, a great country.”

“It was about the sloop at Murray’s Wharf?”

“Yes.  To the Committee of Safety her cargo she sold; but Collector Cruger would not that it should leave the vessel, although offered was the full duty.”

“For use against the king were the goods; then Cruger, as a servant of King George, did right.”

“Oh, but if a tyrant a man serves, we cannot suffer wrong that a good servant he may be!  King George through him refused the duty:  no more duties will we offer him.  We have boarded up the doors and windows of the custom-house.  Collector Cruger has a long holiday.”

He did not speak lightly, and his air was that of a man who accepts a grave responsibility.  “I met Sears and about thirty men with him on Wall Street.  I went with them, thinking well on what I was going to do.  I am ready by the deed to stand.”

“And I with thee.  Good-night, Bram, To-morrow there will be more to say.”

Then Bram drew his chair to the hearth, and his mother began to question him; and her fine face grew finer as she listened to the details of the exploit.  Bram looked at her proudly.  “I wish only that a fort full of soldiers and cannon it had been,” he said.  “It does not seem such a fine thing to take a few barrels of rum and molasses.”

“Every common thing is a fine thing when it is for justice.  And a fine thing I think it was for these men to lay down every one his work and his tool, and quietly and orderly go do the work that was to be done for honour and for freedom.  If there had been flying colours and beating drums, and much blood spilt, no grander thing would it have been, I think.”

And, as Bram filled and lighted his pipe, he hummed softly the rallying song of the day,—­

“In story we’re told
How our fathers of old
Braved the rage of the winds and the waves;
And crossed the deep o’er,
For this far-away shore,
All because they would never be slaves—­brave boys! 
All because they would never be slaves.