Hugh Wynne, Free Quaker Part 8

"What has that got to do with this?"

"And again when you would not sign the Non-importation Agreement in '68."

"Well?"

"They will ask you to receive the tea."

"And I will do it. How can I refuse? I should lose all their India trade."

"There will soon be no trade to lose. You are, as I know, drawing in your capital. Go abroad. Wind up your affairs in England; do the same in Holland. Use all your s.h.i.+ps this summer. Go to Madeira from London. Buy freely, and pay at once so as to save interest; it will rise fast. Come home in the fall of '74 late. Hold the goods, and, above all, see that in your absence no consignments be taken. Am I clear, John?"

I heard her with such amazement as was shared by my father. The boldness and sagacity of the scheme impressed a man trained to skill in commerce, and ever given to courageous ventures.

"You must sail in October or before; you will need a year. No less will do."

"Yes--yes."

I saw from his look that he was captured. He walked to and fro, while my Aunt Gainor switched the dust off her petticoat or looked out of the window. At last she turned to me. "What think you of it, Hugh?"

"Mr. Wilson says we shall have war, aunt, and Mr. Attorney-General Chew is of the same opinion. I heard them talking of it last night at thy house. I think the king's officers want a war." I took refuge, shrewdly, in the notions of my elders. I had no wiser thing to say. "I myself do not know," I added.

"How shouldst thou?" said my father, sharply,

I was silent.

"And what think you, John?"

"What will my wife say, Gainor? We have never been a month apart."

"Let me talk to her."

"Wilt thou share in the venture?" He was testing the sincerity of her advice. "And to what extent?"

"Five thousand pounds. You may draw on me from London, and buy powder and muskets," she added, with a smile.

"Not I. Why dost thou talk such folly?"

"Then Holland blankets and good cloth. I will take them off your hands at a fair profit."

"I see no objection to that."

My aunt gave me a queer look, saying, "The poor will need them. I shall sell them cheap."

It was singular that I caught her meaning, while my father, reflecting on the venture as a whole, did not.

"I will do it," he said.

"Then a word more. Be careful here as to debts. Why not wind up your business, and retire with the profit you will make?" It was the same advice my mother had given, as I well knew.

"Hast thou been talking to my wife?" he said.

"No," she replied, surprised; "may I?"

"Yes. As to going out of business, Gainor, I should be but a lost man. I am not as well-to-do as thou dost seem to think."

"Stuff and nonsense!" cried my aunt. "I believe Thomas Willing is no better off in what you call this world's gear, nor Franks, nor any of them. You like the game, and, after all, what is it but a kind of gambling? How do you know what hands the ocean holds? Your ventures are no better than my guineas cast down on the loo-table." These two could never discuss anything but what it must end in a difference.

"Thou art a fool, Gainor, to talk such wicked nonsense before this boy.

It is not worth an answer. I hear no good of Hugh of late. He hath been a concern to James Pemberton and to my friend, Nicholas Wain, and to me--to me. Thy gambling and idle redcoats are snares to his soul. He has begun to have opinions of his own as to taxes, and concerning the plain duty of non-resistance. As if an idle dog like him had any right to have an opinion at all!"

"Tut! tut!" cried Miss Wynne.

"I am not idle," I said, "if I am a dog."

He turned and seized me by the collar. "I will teach thee to answer thy elders." And with this he shook me violently, and caught up a cane from a chair where he had laid it.

And now, once again, that disposition to be merry came over me, and, perfectly pa.s.sive, I looked up at him and smiled. As I think of it, it was strange in a young fellow of my age.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "I WILL TEACH THEE TO ANSWER THY ELDERS" Page 84 Hugh Wynne]

[Transcriber's Note: In the ill.u.s.tration, two men and a woman stand in a room. One of the men is holding a stick over his head; the woman has grabbed his hand at the wrist. The other man looks on.]

"Wouldst thou laugh?" he cried. "Has it gone that far?" and he raised his stick. My Aunt Gainor jerked it out of his hand, and, standing, broke it over her knee as if it had been a willow wand.

He fell back, crying, "Gainor! Gainor!"

"My G.o.d! man," she cried, "are you mad? If I were you I would take some heed to that hot Welsh blood. What would my good Marie say? Why have you not had the sense to make a friend of the boy? He is worth ten of you, and has kept his temper like the gentleman he is."

It was true. I had some queer sense of amus.e.m.e.nt in the feeling that I really was not angry; neither was I ashamed; but an hour later I was both angry and ashamed. Just now I felt sorry for my father, and shared the humiliation he evidently felt.

My aunt turned to her brother, where, having let me go, he stood with set features, looking from her to me, and from me to her. Something in his look disturbed her.

"You should be proud of his self-command. Cannot you see that it is your accursed repression and dry, dreary life at home that has put you two apart?"

"I have been put to scorn before my son, Gainor Wynne. It is thy evil ways that have brought this about. I have lost my temper and would have struck in anger, when I should have reflected, and, after prayer, chastised this insolence at home."

"I heard no insolence."

"Go away, Hugh, and thou, Gainor. Why dost thou always provoke me? I will hear no more!"

"Come, Hugh," she said; and then: "It seems to me that the boy has had a good lesson in meekness, and as to turning that other cheek."

"Don't, Aunt Gainor!" said I, interrupting her.

"Oh, go!" exclaimed my father. "Go! go, both of you!"

"Certainly; but, John, do not mention my news or my London letter."

"I shall not."