“It was a bit under a thousand pounds, Richard.  And when she died I put it out under Mr. Carroll’s direction at safe interest.  So that you have enough to discharge your debt, and something saved against another emergency.”

He fell silent, sunk into one of those reveries which the memory of my mother awoke in him.  My own thoughts drifted across the sea.  I was again at the top of the stairs in Arlington Street, and feeling the dearest presence in the world.  The pale oval of Dorothy’s face rose before me and the troubled depths of her blue eyes.  And I heard once more the tremble in her voice as she confessed, in words of which she took no heed, that love for which I had sought in vain.

The summer dusk was gathering.  Outside, under the cherry trees, I saw Banks holding forth to an admiring circle of negro ’ostlers.  And presently Mr. Claude came in to say that Shaw, the town carpenter, and Sol Mogg, the ancient sexton of St. Anne’s, and several more of my old acquaintances were without, and begged the honour of greeting me.

CHAPTER XLIV

NOBLESSE OBLIGE

I lay that night in Captain Clapsaddle’s lodgings opposite, and slept soundly.  Banks was on hand in the morning to assist at my toilet, and was greatly downcast when I refused him this privilege, for the first time.  Captain Daniel was highly pleased with the honest fellow’s devotion in following me to America.  To cheer him he began to question him as to my doings in London, and the first thing of which Banks must tell was of the riding-contest in Hyde Park, which I had omitted.  It is easy to imagine how this should have tickled the captain, who always had my horsemanship at heart; and when it came to Chartersea’s descent into the Serpentine, I thought he would go into apoplexy.  For he had put on flesh with the years.

The news of my return had spread all over town, so that I had a deal more handshaking to do when we went to the Coffee House for breakfast.  All the quality were in the country, of course, save only four gentlemen of the local Patriots’ committee, of which Captain Daniel was a member, and with whom he had an appointment at ten.  It was Mr. Swain who arrived first of the four.

This old friend of my childhood was a quiet man (I may not have specified), thin, and a little under stature, with a receding but thoughtful forehead.  But he could express as much of joy and welcome in his face and manner as could Captain Daniel with his heartier ways.

“It does me good to see you, lad,” he said, pressing my hand.  “I heard you were home, and sent off an express to Patty and the mother last night.”

“And are they not here?” I asked, with disappointment.

Mr. Swain smiled.

“I have done a rash thing since I saw you, Richard, and bought a little plantation in Talbot, next to Singleton’s.  It will be my ruin,” he added.  “A lawyer has no business with landed ambitions.”