w
" ' Good-bye, Sir John, God bless you ! ' the old Loyalist replied, as he
warmly grasped the Premier's extended hand."
p. 191
The Old Loyalist
A STORY OF UNITED EMPIRE LOYALIST
DESCENDANTS IN CANADA
BY
A^kf DAVIS, C.E.
WINNIPEG, MAN.
TORONTO
WILLIAM BRIGGS
1908
Copyright. Canada, 1908, by Allan Roi Davu
PS
mi
fj 96'
Of
TO
ALICE
MY LOYALIST WIFE
FOREWORD
An active life in the field of engineering and survey-
ing has left but little time to devote to a work of fiction.
Much pleasure, however, has been derived by the author,
during several years, in gathering material here and there
in stray moments, and weaving it into a story concern-
ing his birthplace and the U. E. Loyalists from whom
he sprung.
All the characters with one exception are, of
course, imaginary, as well as most of the incidents re-
corded concerning them. No story of Adolphustown
could be written, covering the period in question, with-
out reference to Sir John A. Macdonald, who as a lad
attended the village school, and later in life frequently
visited old friends in the locality.
" The Old Loyalist " is a type of his people not alone
in the Bay of Quinte district, but from the Maritime
Provinces to Canada's western boundary, wherever the
Loyalists chanced to settle. The good men and true are
not by any means confined to those of Loyalist descent,
as has been proven on more than one occasion in the
history of Canada during the past century. It will be
readily observed that many of the unreal incidents of
the story cluster round certain well-known historical
events in the lives of the Loyalists, as, for instance,
the continuance of slavery, in a modified form, after
they reached Canada.
5
FOREWORD
Should this plain, unvarnished tale serve to provoke
a greater interest in our grand old Loyalist ancestors,
who so materially assisted in laying our national foun-
dations broad and deep, and at the same time afford a
means to the reader of a few hours' recreation in follow-
ing the fortunes of our hero and his foster-family, this
will be an abundant recompense to
THE AUTHOR.
CONTENTS
I. The Clinton Home on the Bay of Quinte
II. Secret of the Log Cabin
III. Captain Mike and His Schooner
IV. The Captain's Voyages are Ended
V. Plans of the Enemy Disturbed .
VI. Patience Like Unto Job's .
VII. The Jury Reverses its Verdict
VIII. Squire Clinton Returns Home
IX. A Mortgage on the Homestead .
X. The Charms of a Mountain Lake q
XL An Unexpected Sermon
XII. An Unwilling Promise Secured .
XIII. The Bowery Waif has a History
XIV. Quinte makes an Important Protest
XV. A Violent Scene in the old Log Cabin.
XVI. The Call of Duty
XVII. Camp Life in the Wilderness
XVIII. Two Important Paintings .
XIX. Two Patients in One Shack
XX. A Welcome Visitor to Camp
XXI. An Interesting Letter to the Clinton Family
XXII. Another Mistletoe Contract Renewed
XXIII. The Black Walnut Box Leads to a Discovery
XXIV. Virginia Treasures Restored
XXV. The Home Mission Field .
XXVI. An Unexpected Centennial Episode
XXVII. The Oid Loyalist at Rest .
ILLUSTRATIONS
PACE
" ' Good-bye, Sir John, God bless you ! ' the old Loyalist replied,
as he warmly grasped the Premier's extended hand " . 191
" Gertrude sprang through the doorway, rushed to the bedside,
and fiercely struck up the hand in which Horace held the
deadly weapon " 211
" The last gold coin was extracted from the vault, mixed in the
sacks of sand, and carried aboard the brigantine " . . 328
THE OLD LOYALIST
CHAPTER I.
THE CLINTON HOME ON THE BAY OF
QUINTE.
Squire Clinton sat in his shirt sleeves, in his com-
fortable farm-house, enjoying an accustomed after-sup-
per smoke from a long clay pipe. He was a portly man,
with smooth, round face, high forehead, large, well-
shaped nose and deep-blue eyes a man of considerable
strength of character one would conclude at a moment's
glance. Tilted back in his favorite great-armed chair
against the wall, with his feet, encased in slippers, resting
on the damper of a large box-stove, in which the fire
loudly crackled and roared, George Clinton, the owner
of the old Loyalist Clinton homestead, looked a perfect
picture of good nature and happy contentment on a cold
winter's night near the close of the year 1865.
It was on the Canadian frontier, not far from where
the picturesque Bay of Quinte debouches into the magni-
ficent Lake Ontario. The exact locality was on the north
shore of the bay, in the vicinity of the first great bend
westward from its mouth, where its course abruptly
swings from a westerly to an easterly direction.
Mrs. Clinton, an elderly, sweet-faced little woman,
the Squire's very amiable wife, was seated beside the
stove in a well-cushioned rocking chair, which had
THE OLD LOYALIST
served more than one generation, engaged in the de-
lightful task of knitting her husband a warm pair of
woollen socks. She wore gold-rimmed spectacles, and
freely chatted with her husband and a group of five
small boys and girls, occasionally, taking a glance at
her work when changing a needle. The children were
seated round a large dining-table, with brightly burning
lamp in the centre, enjoying with great hilarity and
amusement certain well-known childish games, with their
slates and pencils. The shouts and laughter of the little
folks were keenly enjoyed by the Squire, who compla-
cently watched their movements through the curling
rings of smoke ascending from his pipe to the ceiling.
Presently the dining-room door creaked on its hinges
and slowly opened. An old colored man entered the
room from an outer kitchen without knocking. He was
closely followed by a large Newfoundland dog, with
head erect and wagging tail, which looked complacently
about the room at the various members of the family.
The dog's master was immediately greeted with several
friendly expressions from Squire Clinton and the chil-
dren.
" Come here, Quinte, and take a chair by the fire."
"Hello, Quinte. How's your health to-day?"
" Merry Christmas, Quinte !"
" We're glad to see you to-night, with your banjo
under your arm, for we are now assured of some good
music."
The tall, slender negro, with woolly hair, thick pro-
truding lips and large kindly eyes, pulled off his fur
cap and bowed profoundly to each member of the family
without speaking a word. He was warmly clad in home-
spun garments. His feet were encased in moccasins and
his hands in heavy woollen mittens.
10
THE CLINTON HOME
" Lay your wraps here, old man, and put your banjo
! yonder in the corner. You must be cold, judging from
i the way the frost is snapping and cracking to-night,"
! said Squire Clinton, in a loud, though kindly voice, as
he arose and closed the door and then resumed his seat.
" Ver' cold night, Mas'r Clinton," replied Quinte
[Brown. He rubbed his hands together for a few mo-
iments and then sat down beside the stove. " Der am a
[big sto'm brewin'; ci'cle roun' de moon wif one star in
it; wind in de East. I specs we'll get it to-mowah good
an' ha'd. Golly, Mas'r, I'm glad Quinte's got a com-
fo'ble log cabin an' plenty of wood, an' tings to eat."
" Shame on you, Quinte Brown," Mrs. Clinton re-
I plied, sternly. "You should not make such bad predic-
tions about the weather for Christmas, where so many
children as we have are concerned. Curtis and Walter
have been planning a sleigh-ride with your good dog
Rover for to-morrow, and Helen and Gertie have been
talking all day about riding down hill and skating, and
I don't know what all, and here you come along and
upset all their plans."
" Can't you put the storm off for a day or two,
Quinte?" suggested Squire Clinton, with a smile, as he
stirred the fire. " These noisy children will set us crazy
if they are obliged to stay in the house on Christmas
Day."
Three boys and two girls now gathered around
Quinte Brown with a great clamor, threatening and
entreating, and almost pulling him off his chair, on ac-
count of his ominous prophecy.
If you don't keep that storm away, Quinte," said
Helen Clinton, pertly a sweet little grandchild, with
golden hair and merry blue eyes " how in the world
ii
THE OLD LOYALIST
can Santa Claus get through with his team of reindeer
to fill our stockings?"
Realizing the force of this argument, Quinte took
Helen on his lap and said, " You chilluns suahly know
Quinte can't alius tell jes' de 'zact day and houah when
de sto'm is comin'. Dis sto'm may not come till day
arter to-mowah, but it's comin' suah as fate. I kin feel
it in ebery one ob dese ole bones ob mine. Big sto'm,
too. Golly, chilluns, it makes ole Quinte shake jes' to
tink ob it."
Here he chuckled and laughed, and turning to Mrs.
Clinton, said, " How's dat, missus ? Shouldn't dese
chillun now be good an' t'ank and bless ole Quinte
Brown?"
" That's much better indeed, Quinte. Now children
you should entertain Quinte grandly and give him an
enjoyable evening, since he has been good enough to
delay the storm," remarked Mrs. Clinton, with a joyful
laugh.
"That's right, grandmother dear! We'll do it!"
shouted Curtis Clinton, Helen's elder brother, a sturdy
little fellow, with a handsome face strongly resembling
his grandfather. " Let's have a game of ' old bear,'
Quinte, like we had last summer on the lawn, don't you
remember?"
"Yes! yes! Please do, Quinte," cried Gertie West-
wood, an adopted child, whom Squire Clinton had
picked up by chance in the slums of New York a few
years before when on a flying trip through that city, to
which reference shall hereafter be made. She was a beau-
tiful child, with jet black eyes, and a gentle manner that
had endeared her to the Clinton family.
" Come on, Walter," cried Curtis to one of the other
lads. " Get hold of Quinte's legs there and we'll pull
12
THE CLINTON HOME
him off the chair upon the floor ; but of course we won't
hurt him."
The lad thus addressed by Curtis was Walter Earle,
another adopted child, an English emigrant lad from
London, whom Squire Clinton found in Kingston,
the market town, and brought home to assist him on the
farm, and to attend school.
A drowning accident on the Bay of Quinte a few
years previous had deprived the Squire and Mrs. Clinton
of their only son John and his wife, the father and
mother of Curtis and Helen. In their extreme sorrow
and loneliness, Squire Clinton and his wife had taken,
and afterwards adopted, these two children, Gertie West-
wood and Walter Earle, to partially fill the void in their
hearts and home occasioned by the loss of the parents of
their dearly beloved grandchildren.
Curtis's command was quickly obeyed by Walter, and
soon Quinte found himself in a sprawling condition on
the floor.
" That's fine ! Down he goes ! Hurrah I" shouted
Curtis. " Come along now, Horace, and help us fight
this old black bear. We must keep him down. Hurry
up and catch him, for he's awfully hard to hold ! There,
that's right now we've got him!"
The boy last addressed, Horace Sullivan, was not a
member of the Clinton family, but a neighbor lad who
was spending the day at the Clinton home while his
parents were away at the market-town doing their
Christmas shopping.
The old bear now lay prone on the floor, with all five
children piled promiscuously on top of him, shouting and
laughing at the top of their voices, waving their hands
in the air, and challenging their assumed enemy to
begin the strife.
'3
THE OLD LOYALIST
" Lor' bless my soul, chilluns ! What you doin' ?"
roared Quinte from underneath his heavy load. " Golly,
Mas'r Clinton, dey will break ebery bone in dis ole body
ob mine!" Then he growled like a bear, rolled his big
eyes, and made hideous looking faces, which served to
increase the children's zest.
" Go for them now, old bear ! Eat 'em up. Eat 'em
up," exclaimed the Squire, with much amusement, as
he assisted Quinte to roll over and get under motion.
Then Mrs. Clinton and the Squire laughed and clapped
their hands with wild delight, as the old bear began to
move around on his hands and knees, chasing first one
and then another and roaring and pretending to bite.
The dog Rover now came forth from his corner and
joined in the scrimmage. They raced round the stove,
under the table, out into the kitchen, through the hall-
way, into the parlor, bed-room, pantry, closets any-
where and everywhere upsetting chairs and turning
everything topsy-turvy.
Quinte was made to abide strictly by the rules of the
game and fight his battle on hands and knees, never
daring to rise to his feet, or to bite his pursuers hard
enough to make them cry. After a time they all quieted
down from sheer exhaustion, and Quinte breathed heavily
as he lay at full length upon a lounge in a corner of the
spacious room.
" I'm afraid you're getting too old, Quinte, and the
children too large, to play ' old bear ' any more," said
Mrs. Clinton.
" Dat am true as preachin', Missus," gasped Quinte.
" Dem boys, Curtis and Walter and Horace, am gettin'
strong as hosses. Dem gals, Helen and Gertie, dey ain't
no fedderweights now, I tell you; and dat pup dog
Rover, golly, he's the strongest one ob de whole bunch."
14
THE CLINTON HOME
At this moment a great commotion took place outside
the house firing of guns, ringing of bells, blowing of
horns and shouting and cheering, which immediately
arrested every one's attention.
" What's that noise, I wonder?" exclaimed Squire
Clinton, as he rushed to the window and peered out into
the lane. By the dim light of the moon he could discern
about a score of men leaping from a sleigh and running
and jumping about the yard, with frightful yells and
hideous noises.
Quinte jumped to his feet, and answered, " I heah
dat same 'sturbance ober in de village, Mas'r Clinton,
when I was comin' up from my cabin. Wondah who dem
people be and what dey wants?"
When Squire Clinton was getting his mail at the vil-
lage post office that evening, he overheard Tom Jones
whisper to Sam Peters, " Gee whiz ! We're going to
have a big sleigh load of Santa Claus boys out to-night,
with Charlie Picton for leader. We'll astonish the
natives. You had better get a false face, Sam, and come
along, for we'll have heaps of fun."
" All right. Tom," was the low reply. " Bet your
boots, I'll be there. We'll get one good stuffing of cakes
and apples and cider, anyway, to celebrate this Christ-
mas-tide.
Squire Clinton made a mental note of this conversa-
tion. On his way home he went round to Quinte's cabin
on the bay shore and invited the old man to drop in with
his banjo during the evening and help amuse the chil-
dren. He did not mention the fact to anyone that the
lads of the neighborhood would be out for a lark that
night, thinking it would be a good opportunity to have
a little joke at Quinte's expense, which experiences the
old sen-ant had always keenly relished in the past.
l 5
THE OLD LOYALIST
"Heaven save us all!" shouted the Squire, turning
from the window, as though greatly terrified. " I be-
lieve they are yes, sir, as sure as you're born, they
are Fenians! The Fenians have come at last to take
Canada. What in the world shall we do, Quinte
Brown ?"
The children along the Canadian frontier in those
days dreaded the word " Fenian " above all names of
wicked men or fierce animals. Their movements in the
United States were freely discussed around the Canadian
firesides. They were described as a ruthless band of
half-starved ruffians, ready to rob and kill everyone as
soon as they set their feet on the Canadian shore. Little
wonder, then, that Squire Clinton's statement struck ter-
ror into the hearts of the children, and startled his wife
and Quinte Brown. Immediately the lads and lasses ran
screaming away into the remotest parts of the house and
hid themselves in bedrooms and dark closets, and soon
became as quiet as so many mice.
Quinte stood his ground, arming himself with a huge
stick of stove- wood, and took up a position in the corner
of the room ready for the fray, with his faithful dog
in front of him.
As the Squire turned to the door, he whispered a
few words to his wife, who, quickly realizing what was
about to take place, moved away to a far corner of the
room, pushing back chairs and table against the walls,
and clearing the centre of the room.
A loud knock was answered by Squire Clinton
quickly opening the door and stepping outside. He
closed the door behind him. "Listen!" said he to the
leader. " Quinte and the children think you are Fenians
who have come over to take Canada. Say you have
come to take Quinte prisoner. Make some excuse or
16
THE CLINTON HOME
other say he was concerned in a black walnut box affair
with Percival Clinton, in Virginia perhaps that will
arouse him."
" All right, Squire, I understand," the leader replied,
in a subdued voice, while striving to restrain his men.
Then Squire Clinton re-entered, flung wide open the
door, and stood aside with the door-latch in his hand,
watching the men, who closely followed their leader.
They marched into the room in single file, and lining
up came to order at the word of command, by thumping
their clubs and the butt ends of their muskets on the
floor.
All the men wore hideous-looking masks, except a
few whose faces were blackened by charcoal. At the
first glance Quinte thought the latter were some of his
own colored race.
"Well, gentlemen," demanded Squire Clinton, in a
stern voice. " What are you doing here? And how
dare you enter my home in this abrupt manner, wearing
masks and bearing arms? We are law-abiding citizens,
and as a justice of the peace, I demand an explanation
of your conduct, in the name of Her Most Gracious
Majesty, the Queen."
" We are Fenians, sir," quickly replied the leader,
a stalwart young man, with a loud, harsh voice. " We
have come over to take Canada, and the whole country
will soon be in our possession."
" Alas ! that is what I suspected. But, why have you
come to my home particularly? Surely you do not in-
tend to shed innocent blood?"
" We have come here, sir, to demand of you the
surrender of an old Virginia slave, by the name of
Quinte Brown, who was mixed up, I understand, in
some affair about a black walnut box, with Percival
2 I j
THE OLD LOYALIST
Clinton, in Virginia, and ran away from his master.
Have you such a man in your family, Squire Clinton?"
" Yes, Quinte Brown, whom you see standing yon-
der in the corner, is my servant, as he was of my father
and grandfather before me, and a right faithful one
he has been, I can assure you. I never knew he was a
runaway slave, however; but, even if he were, you have
no legal power to arrest him on the free soil of Canada,
or even in the United States, where all slaves have be-
come emancipated."
"Quite true, Squire Clinton; no legal right, as you
say. Still, we propose taking him prisoner, at all costs,
drive to Kingston to-night, and land him in Cape Vin-
cent in the morning; from whence he shall be taken
back to Virginia, notwithstanding Abe Lincoln's declara-
tion that all niggers are free."
The attention of everyone in the room now became
concentrated on Quinte Brown, who, dropping his stick
of wood, seized a chair by the back and raising it high
over his head confronted the leader, and shouted in a
furious voice, " Who dar' say Quinte Brown am a run-
away slave? What do you know 'bout Percival Clinton
or a black walnut box ? Nuffin' at all ! Nebber tole no-
body! Take me prisonah, eh? I dar' you to lay youah
dirty hans' on me, you hellish Fenian scum ob de earth,
shamed to show youah faces. Take back youah infernal
lies or I'll break ebery bone in youah vile ca'cass wif
dis chair."
The leader stepped quickly behind his associates to
avoid the fury of the old colored man, who was now
thoroughly aroused, and threatening to brain him with
the uplifted piece of furniture.
" Take him prisoner, men," cried out the leader from
his safe retreat, but no advance was made.
18
THE CLINTON HOME
Quinte stood motionless for a few moments and
glared at the men, ready to strike down the first one
who approached. Observing no movement to arrest
him, he at length put down his chair, and, climbing on
top of it, waved his arms and said in a more subdued
voice, " I was bo'n a British subjec' in ole Virginny. I
lef dere arter dat awful war dat I might remain a British
subjec', an' now I specs to die right heah on dis ole
homestead ob Mas'r Clinton's in spite ob all de Fenians
dis side ob de lowah regions. Now 'rest me if you dar'."
Mrs. Clinton took advantage of the intense silence
that prevailed for a few moments, and, tripping lightly
out before the men from the corner of the room, said
with a low courtesy, and a sweet smile, " There, now,
Fenian soldiers boys of our neighborhood, who
are having a little fun among your friends this Christmas
eve take off your hideous false faces and be seated, and
we shall do our best to entertain you."
At this command the scene changed in a few mo-
ments. Quinte was dumbfounded, as from his stand-
ing position on the chair he looked down upon one and
then another of the familiar faces of the school lads of
the neighborhood whom he knew so well, and who, one
by one, addressed and saluted him amid the general
shouts and laughter of every body in the room.
" Lor' bless my soul, Mas'r Clinton !" Quinte ex-
claimed, as he scratched his woolly head, and turned
from gazing at the men, to the Squire. " De leadah ober
dar am only Charlie Picton. dat Quaker-debbil boy, who
am always up to mischief: and dar am Tom Jones and
Sam Peters an' Willie Smith an' all de oder small
white trash ob dis neighbo'hood. Nice Fenians dey be,
for suah! Golly! We am fooled bad, dis time, Mas'r
Clinton."
19
THE OLD LOYALIST
The Squire and all the boys roared with laughter at
this remark, and then Quinte got down from the chair
and took a seat in the corner, very much ashamed of the
display of anger, which all had witnessed.
Mrs. Clinton called the children back to the room,
with assurances that no harm could befall them, for the
wild, noisy visitors were the well-known boys of the
neighborhood, who were out for a little frolic on Christ-
mas Eve.
" Hello, children. Where have you all been hiding?"
called out Charlie Picton, as the youngsters shyly re-
turned with traces of tears in some of their eyes.
" Surely you were not afraid ! We would not harm you.
Come here, Helen, my little dear, and sit upon my lap.
I'll protect you from these rough fellows, who seem to
delight in frightening little girls."
Helen timidly responded to Charlie's appeal, as she
knew him well; while Gertie retired to the corner, and
took a seat on Quinte's lap, and the boys shyly settled
down amid the crowd. Squire Clinton quickly brought
a pan of apples and a pitcher of sweet cider from the
cellar, while his wife distributed an abundance of dough-
nuts and Christmas cake.
"Bless your hearts, children, you should not be
frightened at Charlie Picton and his school-boy brigade,"
remarked Mrs. Clinton, as she passed the cake from one
to another. " Some day I fully expect this mischievous,
Quaker boy, Charlie, will become a preacher like his
good, old grandfather, and then, doubtless, we'll all be
glad to listen to his sermons."
" Three cheers for Charlie Picton, the preacher."
shouted Tom Jones, and all the party responded with
loud acclaim.
"Quakers are too slow for me," Charlie quickly
20
THE CLINTON HOME
answered. " It takes too long for the spirit to move
them. I'll join your church, Aunt Mary, when I get to
be a preacher, for the Methodists can shout and sing as
they please, while we Quakers must be very reserved
and precise in our form of service. Sometimes, you know,
we shake hands and go home without the preacher saying
a word."
" I hope you lads will not tell our minister how angry
Quinte was to-night, or what bad words he used," said
Squire Clinton, with assumed gravity, as he poured each
a glass of cider. " I never saw Quinte lose his temper
before in all my life. He's a very good man, indeed, as
we all know; but that was awful language for a good
Methodist like Quinte to use. I sincerely hope the
authorities of the church may not hear of it and put
him out, now in his old age, after so many years of use-
fulness."
Quinte, with a broad smile, quickly answered, " Dis
ole coon hab got some ginger lef in him yet, Mas'r
Clinton. He may gib you many more s'prises befo' he
leabes de chu'ch, or dis worl', which I specs will be bout
one and de same time. Eberybody knows Quinte's bark
am worse dan his bite."
" We'll say nothing more about the matter, Quinte,
if you will now favor us with a good old banjo song,"
Charlie Picton replied, as he helped Helen to another
large piece of cake.
"Song! Song! Quinte, a song!" came from a score
of throats half-choked with cake and apples.
Pleased with this invitation, Quinte took the banjo
brought him by Gertie Westwood. After tuning the
strings for a few moments he struck certain chords, and
then, in a low, deep voice began singing one of the old
plantation songs of his childhood, in that weird, peculiar
THE OLD LOYALIST
tone characteristic of the race. Stanza followed stanza,
for a considerable length of time, to the intense delight
of the listeners. Other songs were sung, and the voice
and banjo acquired new life and energy and pathos.
Then Quinte placed the four children of the family in
a row Curtis and Walter at either end and Gertie and
Helen in the centre and played while the little ones sang
low and sweet that familiar, plaintive plantation song,
"Old Nellie Gray," which Quinte had taught them in
his log-cabin on the shore of the beautiful bay whose
name he had the honor to bear.
" Great Caesar's ghost !" cried Charlie Picton, as the
clock struck nine. " Up boys and let us away, for we
have many families to call upon yet to-night in this
Loyalist district who would be sadly disappointed if we
were to slight them."
Replacing their masks, the company quickly hustled
out and into their sleigh, with much shouting and many
good wishes for the Clinton family, whose hospitality,
they declared, could not be excelled.
The Sullivans called on their return from Kingston
about this time and took the boy Horace to his home
on the adjoining farm. Quinte Brown shortly after-
wards departed to his cabin, accompanied by his faithful
dog the only companion he had in the world. The
uppermost thought in Quinte's mind was concerning that
black walnut box, and how and where Charlie Picton
had obtained certain information about it. Nothing had
ever so startled him throughout his whole life. His
pace, though slow, quickened as he tottered along the
pathway leading down to the shore.
On entering his log cabin the first thing he did was to
carefully examine a certain log in one corner of the
interior, to ascertain if it had been tampered with. Find-
22
THE CLINTON HOME
ing nothing had been disturbed, the old man breathing
more freely devoutly knelt in prayer, and soon after-
wards retired to rest, to dream of early boyhood days
among the little pickaninnies on a Virginia plantation
along the Potomac River.
" What about the Christmas tree, Grandfather?" said
Helen Clinton, when the family were again alone. " Are
we not to have one this year? We have never missed,
as long as I can remember."
" Goodness gracious } We nearly forgot all about it,
little girl. I have a beauty outside, brought fresh from the
woods to-day especially for the occasion the loveliest
spruce you ever saw. I'll have it here in two jerks of a
lamb's tail."
The Squire bustled out into the wood-yard, bare-
headed, and soon returned with a choice evergreen which
reached to the ceiling and filled one corner of the spac-
ious dining-room. Soon the tree and walls were decor-
ated with garlands and festoons of variegated colors, in
which pleasant exercise all hands joined. Then Mrs.
Clinton hung sprigs of holly here and there where they
would produce the best effect.
"Where shall we put the mistletoe, grandmother?"
asked Helen, as she looked about the room in quest of
a fitting place for another of the scarce Christmas de-
corations which Mrs. Clinton had received from a friend
in England.
" Why, right here, child, dear ! in a bunch, suspended
from this hanging lamp, in the centre of the parlor, under
which the boys may have a chance to get sly kisses from
the girls. There is no place in the house quite so con-
venient," answered Helen's grandmother, with a merry
laugh, as she proceeded to suspend the mistletoe, by
standing upon a chair.
23
THE OLD LOYALIST
" Be very, very careful, girls," said Squire Clinton,
looking very solemn and shaking his finger. " If you
allow the boys to kiss you under that mistletoe, some-
thing dreadful may happen."
"What will happen? Tell us, please," queried the
two sweet little girls in one breath, with delightful inno-
cence.
" Surely you know, Helen and you, Gertie ! Gracious,
I shall never forget the day I performed such an act.
Ask grandmother to tell you about it, so that it may
prove a warning to you throughout your entire lives."
" Please tell us, grandmother," pleaded Helen.
" Oh, do tell us, Mrs. Clinton !" begged Gertrude.
" Very well. Listen, then, children," said Mrs. Clin-
ton, as she descended from the chair, stood apart from
the group and began in a low, gentle voice. " On a cer-
tain winter's evening, when I was a girl, or rather a
young woman, I was standing under the mistletoe in our
own dear country home, on the shore of the Bay of
Quinte, during the Christmas holidays. Just then a very
bold young man, yet one whom I very much admired
who previously had been talking to father and mother
in an adjoining room came softly up behind me on tip-
toe. I did not hear his steps, as I was deeply engaged
in admiring a beautiful picture hanging on the wall
Imagine my intense surprise, when this young m
reached over, gently and quietly, and kissed me on th
cheek ! Then, throwing his big, strong arms around me,
he kissed me on the lips and said : ' Mary, dear, you must
now be my wife, for I've kissed you under the mistle-
toe.' "
" Wasn't he a bold fellow ?" exclaimed Gertie, with
amazement.
" But so sly and cute !" remarked Helen, with
24
an
be
THE CLINTON HOME
roguish laugh. " Surely, grandmother, you did not re-
fuse him, for you said you admired him, didn't you?"
" Refuse him ! I should say not. He wouldn't take
no for an answer. Yes, I married him after a time, and
he made a very good husband very good, indeed.
There he stands now, laughing at me for my foolish-
ness, as he has been doing for the past forty years, and
will continue to do so, I suppose, until the end of our
days."
" That was the master-stroke in diplomacy of my
whole life, children the wisest thing I ever did," said
the Squire, with a hearty laugh, as he left the room to
have his final smoke before retiring for the night.
The children soon became concerned with the hang-
ing up of their stockings. Considerable discussion fol-
lowed as to the best place in the house for the con-
venience of Santa Claus, and how he would be able to
distinguish between so many stockings, and make no
mistakes. Alas ! alas ! in their excitement over this
seemingly important matter the little girls entirely for-
got about the other, and soon both stepped right under-
neath the suspended mistletoe. Quickly Curtis nudged
Walter, and quietly, on tiptoe, they each approached
from behind while the girls continued in earnest conver-
sation. Curtis, brimful of pent-up laughter, closed in
behind Gertie Westwood. Walter could scarcely sup-
press an explosion of mirth as he stepped behind Helen
Clinton. Then, with a nod from Curtis for a signal,
each boy threw his arms around the girl in front of him,
and kissing her on the cheek and lips, said, " You must
now be my wife, for I've kissed you under the mistletoe."
On hearing the wild commotion which followed, the
Squire came rushing into the room to enquire what was
the matter, but all he could now discover was the vanish-
25
THE OLD LOYALIST
ing forms of the children as they raced pell-mell up the
stairs. The happy smile upon the face of Mrs. Clinton
as she stood in the door and pointed toward the mistle-
toe, told the Squire plainly what had happened. He
laughed heartily, and shouted upstairs, " Well done,
boys." Soon all retired and once more order, quietness
and peace reigned supreme in the old Loyalist home.
26
CHAPTER II.
SECRET OF THE LOG CABIN.
Quinte's joints and bones proved an excellent bar-
Ineter on this occasion. The storm he had predicted
hme that night with intense violence. The outlook over
he settlement the following morning was dreary in the
Ictreme. Dense clouds of snow rolling and twisting
Lto all sorts of fantastic shapes were swiftly borne along
w 2l furious east wind. Drifts were piled deep along
he fenced highways and around the farm buildings,
Ihile small heaps sifted through every aperture the re-
Intless storm could discover in barns and dwellings,
fcach household on that dreary Christmas day was com-
elled to draw upon its own resources for the necessaries
p life and good cheer.
The children of the Clinton family were early astir
camming their stockings in accordance with the rule
hat has ever prevailed among succeeding generations of
pildhood. Their rapture knew no bounds when they
nscovered that Santa Claus, ever faithful and true, had
reasted the storm, and left them an abundance of pre-
sents far beyond their most sanguine expectations.
Squire Clinton and his wife turned deaf ears to the
form that howled without, after the morning chores and
Housework were performed. Sleighs, skates, picture
looks and sweetmeats had to be examined and com-
lented upon until, all too soon, the dinner hour arrived,
prs. Clinton's Christmas dinner was all that could be
27
THE OLD LOYALIST
desired. Everyone ate heartily of the abundance th
was provided and great joy and mirth prevailed.
" Bless my heart, Mary !" said the Squire, aft
dinner was over. " These children have eaten so mi*
roast goose, plum pudding, mince pies and doughmi
that I fear they will all be sick and the storm will pi
vent going for the doctor. What can we do with the
this afternoon?"
" They certainly can't go out to play in that fearf
storm," Mrs. Clinton replied. " So, we'll have to do t)
best we can with them in the house, I suppose."
Let us all go down and make old Quinte a visit
suggested Curtis, whose mind became actively engagi
as soon as he heard his grandfather's remark.
"Splendid!" Helen responded. "Wouldn't it J
great fun to give Quinte a surprise party in his log cabii
Will you not go, Grandmother?"
" Grand idea, Helen," exclaimed Gertie. "id
wade through the snow up to my armpits."
Bravo! Here comes Rover," shouted Walter Earl
as he glanced out of the window and saw Quinte's
making for the door. " We'll hitch Rover to the sle
and draw Mother Clinton, and the rest of us will brej
the roads. Won't that be jolly?"
" Do you suppose we can get through, George?'' e
quired Mrs. Clinton of her husband. " It would
tainly be a great surprise to poor lonely Quinte, an
would very much like to go."
" Yes, I've no doubt we can get through, wife, dea
if you can endure such a terrific storm, but I fear yk
will perish with the cold."
" Then we'll go," Mrs. Clinton replied, decisive!;
" for a woman can stand more hardships than a ma
any day."
28
;:;
:
SECRET OF THE LOG CABIN
! " Ha ! ha ! ha !" laughed Squire Clinton, as he opened
le door and let Rover in. " What do you think, Rover?
other says she is tougher than I am, and yet she wants
ij)U to draw her down to Quinte's cabin while I walk
lid break the roads. Did you ever hear of such incon-
sistency?"
The dog shook the snow off his back and rubbed his
lad against the Squire's leg as though desiring to ex-
jess his willingness to perform the task without corn-
Lint.
There was great scurrying about on the part of the
ildren in getting themselves and the dog and sled in
ladiness, while Mrs. Clinton filled a large basket with
le choicest provisions the house could afford, and at the
ne time the Squire gave his stock at the barn another
jnerous feed of straw, hay and oats, thus assuring their
i<lmfort for another long interval.
I Great was Quinte Brown's consternation and joy an
bur later, when, in answer to a loud knock, he opened
le door of his old log cabin and beheld his master's
Imily. He gazed for a few moments at Mrs. Clinton
cmfortably seated on a sled with a basket on her lap;
I his large dog standing in front panting hard, and look-
lb at his master for some words of commendation for
fe arduous task ; at the four warmly-clad, red-faced,
larty-looking children standing around the sled, and
Ben at the Squire, who, standing at the threshold, raised
lb arms and loudly exclaimed in an imploring voice :
M Open your hospitable door
And shield me from the biting blast ;
Cold, cold it blows across the moor,
The weary moor that I have passed."
| Lor' bless my soul !" cried Quinte, as he grasped
'[uire Clinton with both hands by the arm and shoulder,
29
THE OLD LOYALIST
and pulled him inside the door. " Welcome, Mas'r Chr
ton, to de home ob you' forefaders. Welcome, Miss
an' all you chilluns. Golly, it makes Quinte's hea't g
to see you comin' to his cabin dis sto'my day."
" I'm glad to see you looking so happy, Quinte, an
to find your cabin so warm and cosy," said Mrs. Clinta
as she jumped off the sleigh, brushed the snow from he
clothes, and ran inside the open door.
The children lost no time in entering the cabin, <
vesting themselves of their wraps and encircling the lar
open fire-place where some great logs were cheerfu
blazing.
" Take dat char, dar, Mas'r Clinton, which was mac
by youah great grandfather, Mas'r James Clinton," sai
Quinte, as he pointed to a heavy, roughly-made, thou
comfortable, oaken chair, with a high back. " You ts
dis rockin' char, Missus, here close by de fire-place. \vh
it am wa'm an' comfo'ble."
" Thank you, Quinte. This is very comfortable it
deed," Mrs. Clinton replied, as she adjusted her glassc
arranged her hair, and seated herself before the blazhl
logs.
" Yes, Missus, good old char dat, suah. Many muc
ders in dis United Empire Loyalist settlement hab rock*
deir babies to sleep in dat char, made by Mas'r Thoma
Clinton in de yeah 1812, de time ob de American wa
Seems only yes'day since dem stirrin' times, when eber
man in dis settlement was a sojer."
Quinte now stirred up the fire with a pair of tong:
and throwing an extra log or two upon the glowin
embers, said to the boys, " Now, Curtis an' Walter, brin
up dem wooden benches, made by Majah Van Alsti
own hands when de Loyalists fust landed in 1784.
will make seats fo' all you chilluns. Go way, Rove
30
SECRET OF THE LOG CABIN
an' lie down. Suahly youah big black coat keeps you
wa'm. All right, lie down dere on de flooah an' be good."
The boys, obeying Quinte's command, quickly drew
the two rough, well-worn stools up to the hearth and
the four children became seated upon them, two on each
Curtis and Gertie occupying the one while Walter and
Helen took the other. The Squire smiled and nudged
Mrs. Clinton as he observed each pair snug up together,
and each boy's arm encircled his partner's waist in order
to prevent her from falling off the short, backless seat.
The children were quite unconscious of having done
anything to provoke smiles from their grandparents, and
so quietly watched and listened with perfect contentment.
" One would think you were as old as Methuselah,
Quinte," the Squire remarked, as he proceeded to fill his
clay pipe, " to hear you talking about the first settlers
on the Bay of Quinte. Why don't you go back to the
beginning, however, and tell us when you were born and
something about your life in Virginia. Of course, we
would not like you to get angry about it, like you did
last night when Charlie Picton accused you of being a
runaway slave. You might tell us, too, something about
that black walnut box of Percival Clinton's, which
Charlie Picton referred to last night. Surely you are
not carrying secrets of the Clinton family with you to
the grave, to be buried forever from our knowledge?"
This thrust evidently touched a sore spot, as Quinte
quickly replied, " Somebody lies, Mas'r Clinton, when
dey say dey know anything 'bout dat black walnut box
ob Mas'r Percival Clinton's." Quinte confronted Squire
Clinton with clenched fist and a look of terror rather
than anger in his face. " I nebber tole it eben to Mas'r
James Clinton, nor to any one ob his fam'ly, nor to any-
body else since dat time, as suah as dere am a God in
3i
THE OLD LOYALIST
heaven. No, no, Mas'r Clinton, Charlie Picton doesn't
know what he's talkin' 'bout, or else he's in league wit
de debbil."
Squire Clinton, his wife and all the children looked
at Quinte in amazement. It seemed impossible that this
quiet, innocent old servant could be aroused in such a
manner by a reference to his past life of unselfish de-
votion. His mind, probably, had become somewhat de-
ranged. The Squire looked at Quinte closely and
smiled. He put a live coal from the hearth in his pipe,
and, while doing so, observed that the old servant's eyes
were still riveted upon him, with a peculiar, questioning
stare.
" George was only joking," said Mrs. Clinton,
pleasantly, after a few moments. " Charlie Picton knows
nothing about your secret, Quinte, if you have one, and
so you need have no fear. Take a seat here beside me,
and let us talk about this dear old cabin, which you keep
so tidy and clean, in which you have lived so many
years, and in which several generations of the Clinton
family have been reared and died."
Still standing erect, Quinte looked at Mrs. Clinton,
while she spoke to him in this kindly manner. Then
turning to the Squire, he fixed his eyes upon him once
more and said, "What do you know 'bout dat black
walnut box, Mas'r Clinton? Must Quinte lose his poor
soul in hell now arter all dese many, many yeahs trvin'
to do his duty? God alone knows how ha'd Quinte has
tried to keep dat solemn promise made to his daddy
down in ole Virginny, an' what pain he has bo'ne all
dese yeahs keepin' back dat walnut box from his good
Mas'r's family. May de Lord forgib me."
Squire Clinton now understood that Quinte was sus-
picious of him and desired some explanation in reference
3
SECRET OF THE LOG CABIN
to the matter alluded to by Charles Picton the previous
night.
Presently he said, " Quinte Brown, you are quite
right, I believe, when you say you never told anything
concerning the matter which now appears to be preying
upon your mind. Your conscience, therefore, cannot
accuse you of any wrongdoing, in the way of breaking
your promise. I know nothing about your secret beyond
the fact that my ancestor, Percival Clinton, in Virginia,
and your father and yourself were concerned in some
way with a black walnut box. Ever since I was a boy
of the age of Curtis or Walter I have known you had
something on your mind concerning this black walnut
;box. You would sometimes mutter to yourself about
it by day in my presence, and on more than one occasion
!I have heard you talk and rave about it in your dreams
at night. Often I have felt disposed to ask you some
questions regarding the matter, but I have always re-
frained from doing so, thinking that, perhaps, if it in
any way concerned the Clinton family you would prob-
ably tell me all about it some time before you died. It
(was I who prompted Charlie Picton to speak about it
last night, in order to have a little amusement with you.
i I'm sure you've told no one your secret, Quinte, and I'm
very sorry, indeed, to have trespassed upon your private
affairs and thus to have injured your feelings, for which
\t trust you will now forgive me."
Quinte grasped the Squire by the hand and said,
'Pa'don me, Mas'r Clinton, fo' gettin' angry. I unde'-
i ;tan' all now. I've been thinkin' an' prayin' 'bout it since
| as' night. Would to God I dar'd to tell you all 'bout it,
but dere is dat promise to my ole daddy. Yes, an' mo,'
lat oath on de Bible ' Nebber tell anybody 'bout dat
i )lack walnut box till youah dyin' day ; but keep it hid an'
h 33
THE OLD LOYALIST
gib it into de han's ob Mas'r Percival Clinton when h
comes back from fightin' Washington. Be sure an' keep
dis promise or God will damn youah soul.' ,!
The children had been intently listening to all that
had been said, and when Quinte ceased reciting the dread
ful vow he had made when a boy, they became excite
and frightened, and Curtis nervously exclaimed in a low
tone, " You may die to-night, Quinte Brown, so you
better tell us all about it and then God will forgive you.'
Quinte sprang to his feet as though thrilled by an
electric shock and gazed about the room eagerly, as
though a voice had spoken to him from the dead. Then
he said, looking intently into the far corner of the room
" Who spoke dem wo'ds ? Would to God I dared tc
tell my Mas'r 'bout dat black walnut box !"
" It was your little friend Curtis, here," Mrs. Clinton
kindly replied. " The child is deeply interested in your
welfare and apparently would like to assist you in getting
the burden off your mind. Sit down again, Quinte, an
compose yourself."
" God bless dat boy Curtis for dem wo'ds. Dey may
be true. Wondah if Quinte dar tell you all 'bout it? My
dyin' day may be close at hand dat's suah as fate.
Would God forgib me, do you spec's, Missus, if I tel
all 'bout it, but do not open de walnut box?"
" Certainly, Quinte, God will forgive you. You hav
nothing to fear in telling us all about your secret, if you
wish to do so. Your dying day might have been any]
day since you were born. I fear you have been giving
yourself a lot of unnecessary anxiety all through your
long life about some promise you made when a boy."
The twilight of evening had come and only a di
light was admitted through two small windows in the 1
cabin. The storm still raged without, threatening a
34
SECRET OF THE LOG CABIN
times to tear the flat board roof off the cabin, but all was
tranquil and cosy within.
Quinte poked the fire once more, threw on another
log of wood, and then hung a kettle of water upon the
crane. The light from the fireplace flooded the single
room of the cabin and lit up the happy faces of the little
group of visitors seated about the hearth. Presently
Quinte resumed his seat beside Mrs. Clinton and began
a story of great interest to the family, which we shall
here endeavor to reproduce, however deficient the attempt
may be.
" At de close ob de Revolutinary War between Eng-
land an' de American colonies, dad an' mam was de
head slabes 'bout de house ob Mas'r Percival Clinton, on
de bank ob de Potomac ribber, in ole Virginny. Mas'r
an' James went to de war to fight fo' King Geo'ge; Ed-
ward, de oldest son, jined Geo'ge Washington's army.
Missus died while dey was all off to de war. We put
her body in a grave on de bank ob de Potomac, on de
plantation, an' not fa' from de ole home. Soon ma deah
mam took sick an' died; an' we laid her body 'way to
rest. Arter a while dad got bad too, an' one day, neah
de end ob de war, he called me to his bedside an' said,
' Moses, my deah boy, dad is gwine to die an' I want
you to keep dis black walnut box dat Mas'r Percival lef
wif me when he went way to de war, which has some
tings in it, I spec's, of great value, worf, I spec's, lots of
money.'
" ' AlUright, dad, I'll keep it safe fo' Mas'r Percival,'
I said, little knowin' what I was gwine to do wif it.
" I was a little lad den like Curtis or Walter here,
an' felt big to be trusted wif somethin' fo' Mas'r Percival,
de great, good man who had been kind to us all on de
big plantation. Den dad took a nice little box out ob
35
THE OLD LOYALIST
his bed, from under de blankets, an' put it in dese han's
ob mine, an' tole me in low, solemn wo'ds dat Mas'r
Percival gub it to him, an' made him kiss de Bible and
sweah he would keep dat box safe to his dyin' day if
needs be an' let no one hab it, nebber open it, an' to gib
it back to Mas'r Percival when he come home from de
wa\
" Den dad made me bring de Bible from de table an'
kiss it an' say ober dem awful wo'ds of his promise to
Mas'r Percival. At de end dad pinched my arm until
it almos' brought de blood, an' in a deep voice dat scared
me, said, ' Be suah an' keep dis promise, Moses Brown,
or God will damn youah soul fo' eber an' eber in hell.'
" I took de box, put it in a bag an' hid it away in
a hole in de groun' whar nobody could find it. I watched
dat hole fo' many an' many a day, an' den I cohered
it wif a big flat stone dat I rolled down from de side
ob de hill.
" Poor ole dad died dat night an' we laid his body
away beside mam's on de bank ob de ole Potomac, an'
de many, many slabes ob de plantation sang an' wep' an'
prayed at de grabe jus' like when Missus died, an' I felt
sad an' lonely wif no one in de wo'ld to love me."
There was silence in the cabin for a few moments,
and all listened to the whistling of the wind without and
the roaring of the flames as they ascended the chimney.
Presently Squire Clinton asked, " How long was it,
Quinte, before Percival Clinton returned home, and why
did you not give him the walnut box as you had faith-
fully promised to do?"
" Mas'r Percival fell fightin' fo' de King in de last
big battle ob de war, wif his son, Mas'r James, fightin'
by his side. When his body was brought home by Mas'r
James der was great mournin' an' weepin' once mo'. I
36
SECRET OF THE LOG CABIN
didn't know what to do wif de box. I couldn't gib it
to Mas'r Percival, fo' he was dead; an' I dar' not gib
it to Mas'r James, fo' dere was my promise to dad to gib
it to no one but Mas'r Percival; an' I had dat awful
dread ob losin' my soul if I didn't keep dat promise. I
nebber said a wo'd about de box to Mas'r James, but jes'
left it dere in de hole whar I knowed it would be safe
from ha'm. Mas'r Percival's body was put in de ground
by de ribber beside Missus. Den Mas'r James took a
chisel an' hammer an' cut de fust letters ob deir names
on a flat stone an' planted it at de heads ob deir grabes.
Dere was much mournin' by Mas'r James an' all de
slabes, an' nobody seemed to want to wo'k any mo' after
Mas'r was gone."
" Was the oldest son, Edward, killed in the war,
Quinte?" anxiously inquired Squire Clinton, who now
put away his pipe and keenly listened to a continuation
of the story.
" No. Mas'r Edward was hurt ver' bad by a shot
in de leg in one battle; but he got well an' came home
when de war was all ober, an' took de plantation an'
all de slabes. Den he turned poor Mas'r James away
wif no money, no clothes an' no food to eat. I lubbed
Mas's James, who was always kind an' good to me, but
I hated Mas'r Edward, who kicked an' cuffed me, an'
all de oder little niggers 'bout de house. Edward cursed
Mas'r James an' tole him he was a poor beggar an'
nebber to come back to de plantation as long as he libed.
I tole Mas'r James I wanted to go wif him, an' he said,
* All right, Moses, come along,' so I packed my few rags
in an ole bag 'long wif de walnut box an' my deah old
mudder's Bible you see ober dere on de shelf, an' started
out on a long tramp, wif Mas'r James, beggin' our meals
from day to day along de road, an' often sleepin' on de
37
THE OLD LOYALIST
col' hard groun'. De Gov'ment gabe all de Ian' an'
prop'ty to de Rebels when de wa' was ober, so dat de
good true men who fought fo' King George, like Mas'r
James, was all made beggars, an' dey was hated an'
made fun ob an' treated bad by dem white trash what
fought fo' Washington.
" We had a hard time on de road, but we got to
New York arter weeks an' weeks ob travel. Mas'r
James was neahly dead ; but dis lad Moses was smart an'
tough an' often got Mas'r a drink, or somethin' to eat,
when he was almos' gone. We foun' lots ob frien's in
New York, poor like ourselves, an' all tryin' to get way
out ob deir ole faderlan' whar de had spen' so many
happy days in de yeahs gone by. One day we got aboa'd
a ship bound, dey said, to Canada. I didn't know whar
dat was, but when Mas'r James said, ' Canada is all right,
Moses; a good country that belongs to King George,
where the Union Jack still flies,' I jes' laid down on de
deck, kicked my heels up in de air, an' laughed and
hollered and rolled ober an' ober till Mas'r James t'ought
I had a fit, an' den he jes' poahed a bucket ob water all
ober dis coon's black head. Golly ! dat soon brought me
to my senses, an' I jumped up an' saw dem all laugh-
ing at me an' den I laughed, too.
" Dere was three vessels loaded with Loyalists an' a
British Gov'ment ship, The Hope, in cha'ge ob us. Majah
Van Alstine was de head man of our pa'ty an' he was
mos' kind an' good to us all. We had a fine trip on de
big, wide ocean an' up de St. Law'ence ribber to Quebec.
Here Mas'r James took me up a high hill to de Plains
ob Abr'am an' showed me de place whar he said Wolfe
whipped Montca'm an' gabe Canada to de King of Eng-
land. We stayed all winter at Sorel, on de oder side
ob de St. Law'ence, whar we lived in tents an' log houses
38
SECRET OF THE LOG CABIN
thro' dat long col' winter. Smallpox broke out an'
Mas'r James took it an' almos' died. I waited on Mas'r
James. So did Miss Van Buskirk de good angel dat
afte'wa'ds become his wife an' we pulled him thro'
arter a hard tussle. A few died in de winter ob dat
awful disease. De rest ob us was poor as chu'ch mice
when de spring came, an' de ice broke up an' went down
de ribber swif ' in big pieces. Den we all gladly got in de
long narrow-bottomed boats fu'nished by de Gov'ment
an' de men had lots ob ha'd wo'k at de rapids pullin' dese
heaby boats up long de sho'e, filled wif provisions, women
and chillun. All de people was glad an' shouted when
we got to Fo't Frontenac, or Kingston, as we call it now-
adays. Dere we heah de cannon boom an' saw de ole
Union Jack floatin' above de fort. Golly, Mas'r Clin-
ton, de Loyalists was so glad dey could ha'dly stay in de
boats long 'nough to get to shore when dey see dat ole
flag wavin' in de breeze. We pitched ouah tents neah de
fort an' stayed dere a few weeks an' had a good res',
and dere Mas'r James was married, an' everybody seemed
glad an' happy when dey greeted him an' his lubly bride.
11 Den all ob Majah Van Alstine's pa'ty got in deir
boats an' rowed up de quiet, b'utiful Bay of Quinte, an'
landed on de mo'ning ob de 16th June, 1784, in dat
little cove ober dere, jes' beyond dis ole log cabin, an'
eberybody rejoiced to know his long pilg'image was
done."
"What became of the walnut box, Quinte?" asked
Mrs. Clinton, after a few moments of silence. She, too,
had now become intensely interested not only in the
story, but in the fate of that mysterious box.
" Wait a few minut's, Missus," resumed Quinte, " an'
I'll tell you bout dat box, which I kep' safe an' soun'
39
THE OLD LOYALIST
all t'rough dat long, long voyage f'om New York to de
Bay of Quinte.
" De Loyalist people drew lots fo' de homesteads, an'
it so happened dat Mas'r James drew his two hundred
acres jes' whar de pa'ty landed. So de good Majah said
Mas'r James an' his bride mus' hab de fust log cabin.
All de men took off deir coats an' went to wo'k choppin 1
down oak trees right heah in de t'ick woods, an' in a
couple ob days dis log cabin we am sittin' in was built.
A roof of split hollow bass wood logs, half of dem
turned up an' half of dem turned down, was put on, so
dat a drop of water could not get t'rough.
" Golly ! Mas'r James was proud when he come into
dis cabin wif his purty bride de sweetest gal dat eber
libed. She and Mas'r James was ver' kind to me, an' I
was de happiest nigger boy in de wo'ld in dis cabin as I
waited on Missus an' helped Mas'r James split de wood
an' build de fires.
, " Eberybody called me ' Quinte ' in dem days, an' so
my ole name Moses was almos' forgot. Mas'r James
nor anybody else nebber saw dat walnut box what I
always kep' in de bag all dem days and weeks ob de
long trip, an' watched like a cat watches a mouse. One
day when Mas'r and Missus was away helpin' de nabors
at a cabin-raisin' bee, I got a saw an' cut out de font
block ob a log inside de cabin, an' wif a chisel an'
hammer an' axe I dug out a place big enough to hoi' dat
walnut box. Den I put de-box inside, nailed de block
in its place ag'in and filled up de holes wif* de sawdust
an' clay. No one discove'd what I did, an' dere I spec's
dat walnut box is at dis moment jes' ober dere, neah
whar you sit, Mas'r Clinton.
" My story is done, an' now I'm gwine to see if dat
40
SECRET OF THE LOG CABIN
walnut box am still dere, an' I pray dat de good Lord
will pa'don me if I show it now to Mas'r Clinton."
Quinte jumped up from his chair and quickly lighted
two tallow candles, in bright brass candlesticks, placing
one on the mantel over the fire-place, and the other on
the table in the centre of the room. Then taking the iron
poker from the hearth he proceeded to hammer the end
of it into an aperture in the wall and to slowly pry out
the section of the log he had sawn long ago near the
corner of the cabin. All the Clinton family arose to
their feet, filled with intense interest in the proceedings,
and crowded around to witness the action. The task was
easily accomplished, and in a few minutes Quinte re-
moved the loosened timber and then drew forth from
its secure hiding-place a beautiful black walnut box
about nine inches long, four inches wide and two inches
deep, which he critically examined, tried the lock, shook
the box beside his ear and heard the rattle of its con-
tents, and then passed it over with a trembling hand to
his master, without uttering a word.
" Heavens on earth, Quinte!" shouted Squire Clinton,
as he took the box in his hand, examined an inscription
on a brass plate on the lid, and then tried to open the
latter, which he found to be securely fastened. After
rubbing the plate vigorously for a few moments with
his coat sleeve, the Squire raised the box to his eyes and
read aloud this inscription " Percival Clinton, Vir-
ginia."
After a few moments he looked up and said, " What
a pity, Quinte, you did not give this box to your Master
James, in Virginia, when you found his father was dead.
It may contain some very valuable papers which probably
would have been of great service to him in those days
4i
THE OLD LOYALIST
of misfortune. Shall I break it open and see what it
contains? There seems to be no key with it."
" No, Mas'r Clinton, don't open it till arter I'm gone,
for de good Lo'd's sake and den no ha'm can suahly come
to me. I'm awful glad to see it in de han's ob one ob
de Clinton family arter all dese yeahs ob waitin'. But
please don't open it yet, Mas'r Clinton, fo' I'm 'fraid,
oh, so much 'fraid, ob dat awful promise, an' de oath
I made on de Bible!"
" But I may die before you, Quinte," suggested the
Squire. " I have no lease of life and you may bury me
yet."
" Suah, Mas'r Clinton, I nebber tho't ob dat. Spec's
den I better gib it to Mas'r Curtis de las' ob de Clinton
men, who will likely lib fo' many, many yeahs. Dat's
jes' what I'll do. Here, Curtis, my deah boy, take dis
walnut box, jes' as I did when I was a lad, keep it safe
f'om ha'm an' open it arter ole Quinte's gone to res', an'
may de blessin' ob de good Lo'd res' upon de contents
ob dat walnut box an' upon all de Clinton fambly fo' eber
an' eber, amen."
Squire Clinton felt strongly disposed, however, to
pry the lid open and see at once what the box contained.
Quinte's idea of keeping it closed until he was dead was,
in his master's opinion, extremely foolish and should
not be tolerated. Still, he would not assume the respon-
sibility of opposing the old servant, who had so faith-
fully maintained his secret throughout a long life of
many privations in the service of the Clinton family.
So the matter for the time being was allowed to rest as
Quinte had suggested.
Mrs. Clinton spread the table with her Christmas
delicacies from the basket, while Quinte made a good
cup of tea. Conversation flowed freely during the
42
SECRET OF THE LOG CABIN
rening meal and for a long time after, and Quinte's
sart grew light again as "he listened to the chatter of
te children. When at a late hour the Clinton family
t out for home Curtis carrying the walnut box se-
lrely under his coat it was found that the storm had
lbsided and the night was clear and cold.
43
CHAPTER III.
CAPTAIN MIKE AND HIS SCHOONER.
Curtis put the black walnut box away in a bure
drawer along with his grandfather's private papers a
the family retired for the night. But Squire Clinb
could not sleep. His mind dwelt upon that walnut be
its probable contents and the wonderful manner in whi
it had been preserved through the Revolutionary w
and down through the succeeding generations to the pi
sent period. The question arose: Why did Perch
Clinton leave the box in charge of one of his slav
rather than his wife, when he and his son left home f
the seat of war? He puzzled over this matter for houi
and naturally was led to the conclusion that the box CO
cealed some mystery concerning the Clinton family wi
which Percival Clinton's wife and perchance his so;
were not familiar.
" I was thinking all night about that box, Mary,"
the Squire to his wife the following day, " and I've
good notion now to break it open and see what it ca
tains."
His wife looked up with surprise and asked, " Wh
George?"
" Because I'm strongly impressed it must contai
more than ordinary business papers something, perhap
which would materially affect the fortunes of our family.
" Yes, possibly, George, in so far as the Virginia Clii
tons were concerned; but even if James Clinton, wh
44
wi (
CAPTAIN MIKE AND HIS SCHOONER
ime to Canada, had been entitled to a portion of that
;tate by the will of his father, it would have been con-
seated by the Government according to what Quinte
Id us last night and what we know also from the testi-
ony of our forefathers."
" Quite true, Mary, quite true ; still, it would be a
reat satisfaction to have a peep inside and to know
^finitely just what it contains. Quinte's notion of
crecy to his dying day is not justified at all from what
:tually took place at the time of the death of his father."
" That may be, my dear husband," Mrs. Clinton re-
lied, gently, with her hand on his shoulder, "but it
t>uld seem as though Providence had willed that it
iould not be opened at the present time, since we are
bund by Quinte's earnest request not to do so. A few
ftys or even years will probably make no special
(fference now; and when Quinte is gone, Curtis and
j)U can open the walnut box with the satisfaction of
kowing you faithfully kept your promise to one who
l.s carefully kept his for more than four score years."
! As a matter of course, Mrs. Clinton's arguments pre-
riled. The old Loyalist tenderly kissed his wife and
talked away with the quiet remark to himself, *' Well, I
jiess Mary's about right, as usual. Somehow, I don't
take many mistakes when I follow my wife's advice."
The walnut box was not opened ; but during the suc-
(eding weeks the Squire frequently took it in his hands,
lied the lid, looked at the inscription on the plate, and
ondered again and again what it could possibly contain.
Squire Clinton now carefully watched the meagre
iports in the weekly papers concerning the " Fenian "
rovement south of the Canadian border line. While
tere was but little definite knowledge of what was
Jtually taking place, he, in common with his fellow-citi-
45
THE OLD LOYALIST
zens, all along the Canadian frontier, grew more an.
more restless and suspicious as the weeks and month
passed. He realized that a desperate gang of ex-soldien
criminals and thieves were combining to swoop ove
among his peaceful, law-abiding countrymen to take pos
session of the country, if possible, without any regan
for the feelings or rights of the loyal owners.
The old swords and muskets were taken down am
cleaned and polished. Volunteer regiments were re
cruited and drilled, and every man in the settlemen
capable of bearing arms gladly offered his services in th
defence of his country.
There were a few exceptions to this general rule
Occasionally a man was found who was in sympathj
with the enemy. Such an one was Captain Mike Sulli
van grandfather of the lad Horace who played wit!
the Clinton children whose farm adjoined that of Squin
Clinton's.
Captain Mike had become an object of suspicion if
the Loyalist community. His actions and manner hac
recently undergone a considerable change. Usually dur
ing the winter months while his schooner, the Mayflower
was out of commission and frozen in the ice of the ba)
in front of his home, Captain Mike spent most of his
time at the village hotel The Royal where he drank,
swore, sang, chewed and smoked and fought to his
heart's content. But during the winter in question he
had been rarely seen in his old haunts. He had made
several trips to the States, remaining away each time for
a considerable period. Squire Clinton observed his
neighbor's sly movements and evasive answers Avhenever
asked a question about his movements, so that he
gradually became impressed with the idea that Captain
Mike was in league with the Fenians. It was generally
46
CAPTAIN MIKE AND HIS SCHOONER
known that his brother, Tom Sullivan, was an ex-soldier
of the Civil War, since Captain Mike had been accus-
tomed to brag of the wonderful exploits of " my brother
Tom " in the long, bitter struggles between the North
and the South. It was known, too, that Captain Mike
and his brother Tom had together emigrated from Ire-
land to the States years before, and that the former had
begun as a deck hand on a schooner in the port of Os-
wego. From this position he had worked his way up
to Captain, and in the course of time purchased the
Mayflower, and from year to year plied between Oswego
and the Bay of Quinte. It was well known, too, that
Captain Mike had made lots of money in recent years,
owing to the great increase in the carrying trade due to
the Civil War and the free exchange of natural products
permitted by the Reciprocity Treaty.
It was during the time this treaty was in force that
the Captain of the Mayflower bought the farm on the
Bay of Quinte and moved his family over from Oswego.
His son Jake managed the farm while the Captain con-
tinued his sea-faring life to and fro across Lake Ontario.
Mrs. Sullivan soon after died, and then Bridget O'Mal-
ley, a servant who came with the family from Oswego,
became the housekeeper of the Sullivan home, and later
on the mistress of the house, as Mrs. Jake Sullivan. The
lad Horace was their only child.
Now, at the time in question, the spring of the year
1866, as soon as the bay was free of ice, Captain Mike,
with his old mate, Bill Steele, and his ordinary crew, un-
furled the sails of the Mayflower and glided down the
well-known inland water course and across the lake to
Oswego. There he left the schooner in charge of the
mate, to be loaded with a somewhat questionable cargo,
while he hurried away to New York to consult with his
47
THE OLD LOYALIST
brother Tom about matters of greater importance. They
met, and soon Captain Mike was sent by his brother
the General to Buffalo and other points along the fron-
tier on a special mission. From thence he crossed at
Niagara to Toronto and in a few days was back at his
home on the Bay of Quinte and in his old familiar haunts
at the Royal Hotel. He was now in high spirits, and,
assuming his old role again, spent money very freely
and endeavored to make every one drunk in the com-
munity. He sang his vilest songs, swore his biggest
oaths, and told his greatest lies about himself and the
Mayflower. It soon became noised abroad that Captain
Mike was at the Royal Hotel once more, spending money
very freely, and, as usual, telling great stories about his
wonderful vessel. Some of the neighbors Squire Clin-
ton, Joseph Picton and others dropped in to the hotel
after getting their evening mail to see and hear, and per-
chance to interview the wily old Captain. On entering
the bar-room they discovered a large group of men in
various stages of intoxication standing around Captain
Mike. The latter was bending over the bar with a glass
in his hand exclaiming, " Yez, sirree, bhoys ; she's the
foinest schooner that iver kissed the blue wathers of ould
Lake Ontario. Come along, Squire, and my old friend,
Quaker Joe, an' drink wid me an' the bhoys to the good
health of the Mayilozver."
The Captain had quickly observed the approach of
the newcomers and all eyes were now turned upon the
latter.
" No, thank you, Captain Mike," answered Squire
Clinton, good-naturedly. " I've no doubt the Mayflower
is all you claim for her, and that she has made you many
thousands of dollars."
" Right you are, Squire, she's made more solid gold
48
CAPTAIN MIKE AND HIS SCHOONER
than all the other old schooners on the Bay of Quinte
put together."
" Where is she now, Captain ?"
" Oi'm expechthin' her in from Oshwago this very
night, Squire, as Oi've jest been afther tellin' the bhoys,
wid a bumper cargy of good things for all of yez
Loyalists."
" Why has it taken so long, Captain, to get your
first cargo?"
" Faith and begorra, its not so moighty aisy as it
used to was to git a cargy in Oshwago."
" No, I should say not, when it has taken you about
three weeks to accomplish what you ordinarily do in
about as many days."
" Well, what consarn is that o' yourn, Squire Clin-
ton, I'd loike to know," demanded Captain Mike, in a
loud, ugly voice, unable to restrain his violent temper
as he realized the motive of the Squire's question and
statement.
" It's of more concern to me and my neighbors here,
perhaps, than you think, Captain Mike," the Squire re-
plied, with a grim smile. Every man in the bar-room
now became interested in the remarks of the Captain.
" What were the Fenians up to, Captain Mike, when
thee was last among them?" asked Joseph Picton, the
old Quaker.
" Who said Oi was wid the Fenians, Quaker Joe ?
Tell me the mon an' Oi'll knock the dhirty face off th'
i lyin' schoundrel."
" Thy brother Tom is a general in the Fenian army,
: is he not, Captain Mike? Didst thou not visit him on
thy last trip?"
"Faith an' be jabers, Oi did that, Quaker Joe. Is
their inny harrum in that, Oi would loike to know?"
4 49
THE OLD LOYALIST
" Not if thee were a good loyal citizen of Canada."
" Who says Oi'm not a loyal citizen of Canada?"
"I do," responded Squire Clinton, quickly, and
stepped out directly in front of the irate Captain.
" Holy Vargin ! Mother of God ! Will somebody
hould me coat !" roared the infuriated man, " while Oi
liks this ould Methody hypocrite within a' inch of his
loife."
Some parties sprang between them and pulled Cap-
tain Mike's coat on his shoulders again, as he stormed
and roared.
" Keep on your coat, neighbor Sullivan," the Squire
replied, quietly, " and reserve all your strength for the
big fight of the future when you and your Fenian gang
come over to take Canada. I trust we'll be ready to give
you a hearty reception in this locality when that day
comes."
"Are yez crazy, mon? What in blazes are yez
talkin' about? Who wants -Canada ?" The guilty look
on the Captain's face belied his pretended innocence.
" We're not so crazy as you think, nor half so easily
fooled," the Squire quickly answered, as he observed
the effect the argument was having on the despised
traitor. " We took your measure long ago, Captain
Mike, and everyone in this community believes you to be
a deceptive rascal nay, more, a traitor and a spy in the
employ of the Fenian brotherhood."
"That's true, every word of it!" shouted Jo
Ruggles, with clenched fist.
"Right you are, Squire!" exclaimed David Hanson
" Bet your boots, that's God's truth. We're on to
you, Captain Mike!" ejaculated James Gordon.
" We dr-r-ink yer go-od whisk-k-key, Captain Mi-i-ke,
b-but we don't li-i-ke your poli-t-t-tics," stuttered little
5o
:ne
hn
CAPTAIN MIKE AND HIS SCHOONER
Sammy Green, who was clinging to a chair, almost too
full for utterance.
Captain Mike stood in blank amazement and wonder
as one after another confirmed the Squire's charges
against him. Guilt was written large on his face and
great beads of perspiration stood out upon his forehead.
" Thee hadst best behave thyself in future, Captain
Mike," gravely began Joseph Picton, in a loud, though
kindly, voice. " Thee mightst better be true and loyal
to this thy adopted country, where thee and thy family
now dwell and where thy faithful wife lies buried. Thee
hath been very wicked and thy God hath surely an
account against thee. Thou shouldest do right by asking
God to forgive thee and then serve Him the balance of
thy days. A summons may come to thee this night, or
to-morrow, or some time soon, bidding thee to meet thy
God, and thou knowest thou art not ready. Give up thy
treason, serve thy Creator, and prepare for that day
when thou, like the rest of us, must meet the Judge of
all the earth."
Trembling like a leaf and ghastly pale, Captain Mike
listened attentively to the solemn words of the good old
Quaker preacher, whom everybody respected and loved.
He then turned and walked out of the hotel and away
towards his home without uttering another word. Secure
in a private room in his house, he sat for hours thinking
over his whole life and the events leading up to the un-
comfortable position in which he found himself at that
moment. So insecure and self-condemned did he feel
in regard to the matter that he now began to meditate
aloud :
" Suppose the Treaty is busted and the Mayflower
doesn't aim another dollar carrying truck back and forth
to the States ; faith, and Oi've plinty of money to thrive
5*
THE OLD LOYALIST
on the rest of me days. Shure the farm is paid f'r, and
I've ten thousand to me credit in the bank. Thin, be-
gorra, suppose we fail in our attimpt and these Canucks
don't give us ony help as Oi've led brither Tom to be-
laive they would. May the Holy Virgin presarve me
soul. Old Quaker Joe was right and Oi'm not ready
to meet the Judge. Oi'll give up this whole hellish Fenian
business, so help me "
He hesitated to complete the solemn oath as the
thought of the Mayflower's precious cargo, expected that
very night, flashed into his mind. Almost at the same
moment his mate, Bill Steele, pushed heavily on the door
and entered unannounced. He had just arrived from
Oswego with the Mayflower. Away fled all the Captain's
good resolutions in a moment, never more, possibly, to
return, for his mind now became surcharged again with
evil thoughts and devilish plans.
" Well, what kind of a trip had you, Bill?" questioned
the Captain, in a listless, mechanical tone, as he pointed
to a seat.
" Pretty rough trip, Captain ; nearly went ashore com-
ing through the gap with that infernally heavy load, and
a heavy wind right out of the north; but we managed
to pull through by the skin of our teeth. It was a close
call, though, as sure as your name is Captain Mike."
"How is the cargy, Bill?"
" The cargo is all right, Captain, but it is entirely
too heavy for that schooner. Lucky she didn't go to
the bottom."
" What all have you aboard, mate?" whispered the
owner of the vessel.
" Everything to fight with, Captain, cannon, mus-
kets, swords, powder and shot, and lots of other things,
5*
CAPTAIN MIKE AND HIS SCHOONER
too," the mate replied, with great awe, in the Captain's
ear.
" Oi hope you anchored well out in th' Bay and have
iverything well kivered up, Bill, so that these suspicious
Loyalists about here don't git thar eyes on thim weapons
of war." *
" Yes, Captain, it is all as you say, and none of these
eagle-eyed Loyalists will have the least suspicion, if we
can keep the crew's mouths shut, which is not so easy,
as they are a lot of long-tongued blatherskites."
After discussing various matters earnestly for some
time, Captain Mike gave his mate final instructions, as
follows :
" Take yez crew off the Mayflower to-night, Bill, and
kape ivery mither's son of thim away from her until Oi
come back from Oshwago, day afther to-morrow. Take
thim off for a picnic, or a fishing cruise, an' don't lit
thim blab what they know. Kape thim away to-morrow
shure, but be back and riddy for action when Oi return
from Oshwago the nixt mornin'. Do you mind?"
" Very well, Captain, I'll do as you say ; but remem-
ber, we shall expect a good reward when this damnable
affair is over."
" Right you are, Bill, and Oi, the brither of the Gen-
eral, sware by the living God and all the saints and
angels, that me brave crew av the Mayflozver shall have
their pick of all the farms on th' Bay av Quinte in a few
days afther we've taken possession of Canada. Thin
they will not nade to work ony more on the tricherous
wathers of Lake Ontario. They can sittle down in this
blissed garden of Eden for the rist of their days and
live on the fat of the land."
" That's the way I like to hear you talk, Captain
Mike stick to the men who've stuck to you through
S3
THE OLD LOYALIST
fair weather and foul aboard the Mayflower, and who
will now help you to win a great victory."
" Right you are. Good night, mate."
" Good night, Captain. Success to your great ven-
ture."
Bill Steele lost no time in going to The Royal and
purchasing some bottles of liquor before returning to
the schooner, where he had left his crew. In a few
minutes he was at the bay shore, and jumping in his
yawl, quickly sculled out to the vessel, vaulted upon the
deck and went below.
" Hurrah for the Mayflower and her jolly old Cap-
tain!" shouted the mate, holding high the bottles of
whiskey and brandy to the admiring gaze of the crew.
" Well done, mate. You're the stuff. Let us drink
to the health of the Mayflower and her cargo, and the
best mate that sails the lakes," sang out one of the crew,
as he pitched his pipe away and began to dance and sing.
" Right you are, old chum," called out another as
he sprang to his feet, and, grasping the former, circled
round and round with a jig and clog and a sorry attempt
at the Highland Fling.
Bill Steele passed the uncorked bottles to these, and
others of the crew lying in their bunks, and soon there
was great hilarity.
" The Captain's a trump, boys, and don't you forget
it," exclaimed the mate. " He's promised his crew on his
oath the best farms on the Bay of Quinte, as soon as
our friends from the States come over and take Canada,
and that will be within the next few days, two or three
days at the most."
" Hurrah for Captain Mike more power to his
elbow!" roared another of the men as he sprang out of
54
CAPTAIN MIKE AND HIS SCHOONER
his bunk, seized a bottle of liquor, and drank long and
deep.
" I'll make my choice to-night," declared number one,
" by choosing Squire Clinton's farm the very best in
the whole blooming Loyalist settlement."
" I'll take old Quaker Joe's farm, with all his fine
horses and sleek cattle," remarked number two; "and
I'll get married to the prettiest girl on the Bay of Quinte
and be good all the rest of my days, while living here
on the fat of the land."
The rest of the crew, one after another, picked out
the other farms of the settlement they purposed holding
after the present owners were dispossessed, while they
drank and sang and danced to their heart's delight. The
grog meanwhile disappeared very rapidly, and it was not
long until the wily mate realized the time had come to
make the proposal he had in mind when he went aboard
the schooner. The crew were now in high spirits and
ready for any proposal he had to make.
" Now, men," began Bill Steele, " you've got your
farms selected and everything is ready aboard the
Mayflower for action day after to-morrow, when our
friends from the South will be here."
" Right you are, mate, and we'll make it hot for
these greedy Loyalists, won't we?" declared number one
of the crew.
" Yes, we'll give them a lively run, Tom, but in the
meantime we'll go fishing down in Hay Bay and get out
of the road so that the foxy Loyalists won't ask us any
questions. Do you understand, brave sailors, who are
soon to become prosperous farmers?"
" That's a wise old head of yourn, mate," declared
number two. " Methinks you're as foxy as the best of
'em."
55
THE OLD LOYALIST
" Yes, Henry," continued the mate, " we need to
have our wits about us just now. What do you say if
we pull out to-night! right away put our provisions,
blankets and fishing tackle in the small boats, cover every-
thing up on the Mayflower, and row down the shore of
Hay Bay where I know there's a good vacant house near
the best fishing grounds on these waters. What do you
say, men? Shall we go? Here's another bottle of
brandy we've never touched which we'll sample on the
way down."
Every member of the crew by this time was excited,
and not only willing to go, but anxious to get away.
Bill Steele's greatest trouble was to keep them from
alarming the whole settlement with their shouts and
cheers, as they clambered down into the small boats and
pulled away to the fishing grounds at the midnight hour.
They would have laughed him to scorn had the mate
made them such an absurd proposal a few hours before,
when they were sober and resting in their comfortable
quarters aboard the Mayflower.
56
CHAPTER IV.
THE CAPTAIN'S VOYAGES ARE ENDED.
At an early hour the following morning Squire Clin-
ton and Curtis walked down to the village wharf to take
the steamer for Kingston. The discussion with Captain
Mike Sullivan in the Royal Hotel fully confirmed the
Squire's suspicions that some diabolical plot was being
hatched in which the tricky old Captain was deeply im-
plicated. He therefore decided to go to Kingston and
discuss the whole matter with his solicitor, Macdonald,
the Attorney-General, a warm, personal friend, who, he
understood, was home from Ottawa for a few days on
some personal business. Curtis was requested to go
along and put the black walnut box Quinte had placed
in his charge, in the vault of his solicitors, where the
Squire had been wont to deposit his important papers
for many years.
Arriving at the wharf early, whom should they dis-
cover but Captain Mike Sullivan, vigorously pacing back
and forth and stopping occasionally to glance down the
bay, where his attention was evidently concentrated on
an approaching steamer.
" Good morning, Captain Mike," said the Squire,
very courteously. " Are you taking the steamer for
Kingston? If so, we shall be fellow passengers."
11 Kingston be hanged. No, O'im off fer Oshwago,"
Captain Mike replied, sullenly.
" Oh, indeed ! I see the Mayflower arrived in the
night," the Squire replied, glancing to the west, where
57
THE OLD LOYALIST
the vessel lay at anchor, with her sails all furled. " Will
you not discharge your schooner's cargo first before
you go?"
" Faith ! No ! Wish Oi could ! The crew are all
off fer a shindig this mornin' too lazy to work gone
afishin' down the bay, I hear. Shure an' Oi've a noshun
to discharge ivery mither's son of thim and hire a new
crew. Oi expect a small steamer in now ivery minit to
take me over to Oshwago so as to git anither cargy riddy
for the Mayflozver. Thir she comes now, the varmint,
jest beyont the island, bad luck to her. Oi've been
waitin' fer her iver since the dayloight."
Captain Mike here pointed excitedly down the bay,
where a cloud of smoke could be seen, and then nervously
walked out to the corner of the dock, leaving the Squire
and Curtis standing by themselves. Apparently the Cap-
tain did not care to discuss matters further with his alert
neighbor, remembering, as he did, the result of their
conversation the previous evening.
" I wish I knew the plot that old rascal has in his
sly head, and I would make it hot for him before the day
is over," Squire Clinton said in an undertone to Curtis,
who, of course, could not understand what his grand-
father had in his mind.
At this moment Quinte Brown came out of his log
cabin, hard by, and sauntered leisurely over to the wharf,
followed by the dog Rover, who vigorously wagged his
tail and made a great rush for the wharf on recognizing
his friends, at the outer end thereof.
After speaking a few moments to Curtis and his
grandfather, Quinte, whittling a stick with a large jack-
knife, strolled into a small, frame, freight-shed near the
outer end of the wharf. There he discovered a letter
lying on the floor. Picking it up he looked it over, and
58
THE CAPTAIN'S VOYAGES ARE ENDED
then went back and handed it to Squire Clinton. Glancing
at the address the Squire observed the letter had been
opened, and belonged to Captain Mike Sullivan, with the
Oswego postmark on it. His first impulse was to hand it
to its owner. Then, like a flash, the thought came that
perhaps the letter contained some important informa-
tion that would be well worth knowing just at that junc-
ture. Stepping into the freight shed where Captain Mike
could not observe him, he looked at the signature of the
writer and found, as he suspected, it was from General
Sullivan Captain Mike's brother and read as follows :
" I will send a steamer from Oswego for you on the
evening of May 30th, which should be at your wharf
by daylight the following morning. Be sure and make
connection and come with all possible speed. We expect
to move all our forces along the whole line on the first
day of June. We shall have the Mayiiozver loaded with
arms and ammunition so as to arrive about the time you
leave for Oswego. Cover up all suspicion of what her
cargo consists of, for our success in Canada depends
very much upon the result of the operations of the large
force which you will pilot across from Oswego to the
Bay of Quinte. They must be able to equip themselves
for action from the Mayflower's immense cargo. We
are assured of success, brother Mike, if you can carry
out your part of my plans. Act promptly, and for once
in your life hold your tongue. Farewell.
" Tom."
For a few moments Squire Clinton stood spellbound,
engaged in deep thought over this plan of the enemies
of his country. Then he thought of the villainy and
treachery of his despised neighbor, the old sea-captain,
59
THE OLD LOYALIST
now ready to lead this devilish horde of cut-throats into
the Bay of Quinte to begin their devastation and plunder.
A slow-going old farmer, unaccustomed to quick thought
or action, Squire Clinton walked to the door and looked
at the approaching steamer now rounding the Island;
then at the Mayflower lying quietly at anchor to the
westward, loaded nearly to the water's edge; and,
finally, at Captain Mike, standing on the outer edge of
the wharf, vigorously chewing and expectorating into
the water. His hands were rammed down to the bottom
of his trouser's pockets, and he watched closely the swift
little craft nearing the wharf. Quinte and Curtis ob-
served the Squire's nervous action without saying a
word. They realized he was greatly agitated and per-
plexed. Suddenly a light flashed from Squire Clinton's
eyes that indicated an inspiration had seized him.
" Go inside the freight shed," he hurriedly whispered
to Quinte and Curtis, who had come forth on hearing
the steamer whistle. " Be ready to do what I say
quickly." Then, holding the letter up above his head, the
Squire called loudly : " Captain Mike, did you drop a
letter? Quinte found one here in the freight shed on
the floor. It is addressed to you."
" Faith and begorra!" said Captain Mike, as he began
fumbling in the breast pocket of his coat and then rushed
over to the freight shed. " Thank you, sor, I was jest
afther rading the letter a few minutes ago, an' must
have dhropped it whin Oi went to put it back in me
pocket. Much obleged, Squire, Oi'm shure Oi'll be
afther doin' you a favor some day."
" I suppose it's very important, Captain Mike? From
Oswego, I see."
" Of no importance at all, at all, Squire. Shure, its
only about some freight fer me nixt cargy in Oshwago,
60
THE CAPTAIN'S VOYAGES ARE ENDED
which Oi'm going over the pond now to see about. Thank
you, Quinte thanks, Squire."
As Captain Mike approached the Squire backed up
inside the door of the freight shed, still holding out the
letter. The Captain followed eagerly with outstretched
hand. As he drew near, the Squire quickly sprang for-
ward, and, grasping Captain Mike round the waist,
pushed him backward, tripped him over, and sent him
sprawling at full length on the floor of the freight shed,
the Squire landing heavily on top of him, causing the
Captain to groan and swear.
" Help, here, Quinte, to hold him down ! Clasp his
legs in your arms! That's right! There, Curtis, bring
me the rope from that flag-pole, cut it off with Quinte's
knife, quick!"
These loud, sharp commands were promptly obeyed,
and notwithstanding the frantic efforts of Captain Mike
to free himself, the superior strength of the men on top
soon overcame him, and he was bound hand and foot
and rendered incapable of doing anything but squirm
and twist and hiss the vilest of oaths. Taking a large
bandanna from his pocket, Squire Clinton effectively
gagged his prisoner, saying while doing so:
" You are now completely in our possession, Captain
Mike, and you may just as well compose yourself. You
can't go to Oswego to-day on this steamer. That's defin-
itely settled. On the other hand, you will be immediately
handed over to the Government officers at Kingston, and
tried for the damnable conspiracy this letter from your
brother reveals. Your villainies have been nipped in the
bud, and now you had better prepare yourself for the ex-
treme penalty of the law, for doubtless you'll be shot like
a dog, and may God have mercy on your soul."
Captain Mike glared and writhed and vigorously en-
61
THE OLD LOYALIST
deavored to regain his feet, but his frantic efforts only
served to hasten his exhaustion.
Squire Clinton left the shed and walking out on the
wharf, found the Oswego steamer, a trim little craft, just
landing.
The gang-plank was thrown out, and the commanding
officer, a well-dressed young man, stepped off, and walk-
ing quickly up to the Squire, raised his hat, extended his
hand, and said :
" You are Captain Mike Sullivan, I presume? I trust
all is in readiness here, and that you are prepared to step
aboard and leave at once for Oswego. My orders from
your brother, the General, are that not a minute is to be
lost. I am Captain Drury. The General informed me
you would be ready to start without a moment's delay."
" Excuse me, Captain Drury," began the Squire.
Then he hesitated. Had he completed the sentence he
would have confessed that he was not Captain Sullivan.
But suddenly the thought came to him : Captain Drury
thinks I'm Captain Mike Sullivan. Why not let him
continue to think so! Suppose I go to Oswego and en-
deavor to upset the plans of the enemy! It may cost
me my life, but what of that? My country demands it,
and what is one life where so many including my own
family are in jeopardy? God help me to decide.
"What say you, Captain Sullivan?" demanded Cap-
tain Drury, looking at his watch, and then at the hesi-
tating man before him. Are you ready to start at once?"
The expression of the Squire's face suddenly changed
to one of decision, and he said, " I'm all ready to go, but
I want one moment, Captain Drury, to speak to my ser-
vant."
Squire Clinton hurried over to Quinte, now standing
outside the freight shed, and said, in a low tone, "I'm
62
THE CAPTAIN'S VOYAGES ARE ENDED
going to Oswego on this small boat, Quinte, and may be
gone some days. Put Captain Mike aboard the steamer
for Kingston, which will soon be here. Tell Captain
James to watch Captain Mike closely, and to be sure and
have him imprisoned at Kingston. Tell Mary and the
neighbors I have discovered a deeply-laid Fenian plot
to murder or take prisoners every one in this settlement,
in which Captain Mike is involved. Some of the people
will be at the wharf, and they will assist you in putting
your prisoner aboard when the steamer comes in. I will
wire from Bath to the authorities at Kingston. Good-
bye, Quinte. Take good care of the family and may
God's blessing rest upon us all at this critical time."
At this moment Curtis, who was inside the freight
shed, watching Captain Mike, and whom his grandfather,
in his excitement, had quite forgotten, looked outside,
and seeing his grandfather aboard the steamer, ran with
full speed across the wharf, vaulted over the open space
between the wharf and the departing steamer, and landed
just inside the gangway.
" God bless my soul, Curtis. I forgot all about you,"
cried Squire Clinton, as he turned and saw the boy and
the desperate leap he had made. " You can't come with
me, child, for I'm not going to Kingston, but to Oswego.
We must turn back and put you ashore, Curtis. I'm
awfully sorry, but there may be danger ahead, and you
will be better at home."
The lad's eyes rilled with tears as he said, " Do let
me go, grandfather. I will do just what you want me
to do, and perhaps I can help you in some way. Please
do not turn back."
The boy's sorrowful look and pleading voice proved
effective on this occasion, as in many others, and he felt
63
THE OLD LOYALIST
exceedingly happy when his grandfather shortly after-
wards patted him on the head and said :
" All right, my little man. Come along, and perhaps
you will be of some service to your old grandfather. You
can at least keep him company. I didn't know you could
jump so far, but I suppose you have been practising the
long jump at school."
They now went on deck, and the Squire said to the
Captain, " Will you please run over to the Mayflower
just for a minute until I have a last look at her and
see that everything is all right? There she lies, but a
few hundred yards away."
" Certainly, Captain Sullivan," replied the steamer's
commander, who immediately headed for the schooner,
and in a few minutes dropped alongside and made fast.
Squire Clinton nimbly jumped upon the Mayflower's
deck and walked rapidly around examining its cargo as
though he were the actual owner.
Everything on board was so cleverly arranged and
hidden that no suspicion to the casual observer could
possibly be aroused. The hatchways were securely fas-
tened down. Large tarpaulins were wrapped around
and completely covered the cannon and their carriages
on the deck. The cabin was securely locked. Not a soul
was on board. The Squire quickly decided that the May*
flower's cargo must be got rid of without Captain Drury's
knowledge, and, moreover, without delay. He observed
a broken pane of glass in the cabin window. Striking
a match he ran his arm through the opening and dropped
the lighted taper upon some cushions and blankets in
one of the bunks in the cabin. He waited long enough
to see a distinct smoke and blaze arising from the fabrics.
Then walking across the deck he stepped aboard the
64
THE CAPTAIN'S VOYAGES ARE ENDED
steamer, which quickly sped away in the direction of
Lake Ontario, leaving a dense cloud of smoke in its trail.
They kept far out in the bay, but as they repassed
the wharf Curtis called his grandfather's attention to the
fact that Captain Mike had broken loose. They saw him
standing on the end of the wharf, frantically waving
a handkerchief, as though endeavoring to call the steamer
in. Failing to accomplish his purpose, they then saw
Captain Mike run back and catch Quinte, and drag and
push him to the front of the wharf. There seemed to
be a desperate struggle and then both dropped out of
sight into the bay. Immediately afterwards they ob-
served that the dog Rover sprang off the wharf into the
water. At this moment the steamer passed behind the
point of the small island and the two onlookers from the
steamer's deck could see nothing more of what was trans-
piring at the wharf.
Squire Clinton was about to ask Captain Drury to
turn back again to the wharf when, glancing behind, he
saw a column of smoke and flame ascending from the
Mayflower. He concluded Captain Mike could not pos-
sibly save the schooner now, and therefore he could do
but little harm even if he were free. Consequently he
said nothing to the Captain and they sped down the bay
under a full head of steam.
" I'm quite sure Rover will carry Quinte to shore,
grandfather, but what about poor Captain Mike?" whis-
pered Curtis, with a frightened look.
" Surely Captain Mike can swim to shore or climb
up the wharf," replied Squire Clinton. " I wonder how
the old rascal got loose?"
" He must have broken the rope, grandfather."
" Never, Curtis ; that rope was nearly new."
" Then he must have cut it."
5 65
THE OLD LOYALIST
" How could he cut it, boy ?"
" With a knife, of course !"
"Nonsense! He could not get at his knife."
" Perhaps he used Quinte's knife, grandfather."
" For heaven's sake, lad ! Where did you leave that
open knife of Quinte's?"
" On the floor where we bound Captain Mike."
" That explains the whole business, then, Curtis.
No wonder the old snake got free. We're not expert
policemen, I fear. I hope they will both get safely to
shore, although Captain Mike richly deserves to go to
the bottom."
"Why did you bind Captain Mike with that rope,
grandfather ?"
The Squire took a chair, and, with Curtis sitting on
his knee, explained to the eager lad all the facts of the
case and his reasons for the harsh measures he had
adopted.
Curtis saw the dense cloud of smoke behind, and
knew now why the Mayflower had been set on fire and
why Captain Mike had not been permitted to go to Os-
wego. He was also told that there was probably a large
quantity of powder on the Mayflozver which the fire
would reach after a while and cause a great explosion.
About an hour thus passed in explanations and questions
until Curtis understood the whole matter quite clearly,
and fully realized the object of their visit to Oswego, and
something, too, of the dangers involved.
Then a terrific report was heard back in the direction
of the Mayflozver, which, like an earthquake, shook
houses to their foundations, and caused the little steamer
to tremble.
" Thank God !" exclaimed Squire Clinton, springing
to his feet and grasping the boy and hugging him to his
66
THE CAPTAIN'S VOYAGES ARE ENDED
breast. " That's the most welcome clap of thunder, Cur-
tis, I ever heard in all my life. The Mayflower's pre-
cious cargo will do no one any harm at the bottom of the
Bay of Quinte."
The Squire and Curtis now went forward to where
Captain Drury stood, beside the helm, in the pilot room.
" Come in, Captain Sullivan, and take a seat," said
the commanding officer. " Where did you get the lad ?"
" This is my grandson, Curtis, Captain Drury," the
Squire replied. "I did not intend to bring him along,
but he jumped aboard as we started and I did not have
the heart to request you to turn back and put him off,
when I saw the big tears in his eyes."
" He's a bright-looking lad, Captain Sullivan, and
no doubt will enjoy a trip over the lake. I'm glad you
brought him along. He will learn some valuable lessons,
no doubt, before he gets back home."
Curtis felt very happy when he heard this, for he
feared perhaps Captain Drury would object to his pre-
sence.
"What was that frightful explosion a few minutes
ago, Captain Sullivan ? It made our steamer shake from
stem to stern."
" Did you not think it resembled thunder, Captain
Drury?" the Squire replied, with a knowing smile at
Curtis.
" Thunder? No! Certainly not. It was more like a
heavy blast of powder or a distant earthquake."
" Perhaps so," the Squire answered. " Whatever it
was, it certainly made a terrible commotion, and I'm very
glad we were no closer to it. I think, Captain, we had
better run over to the north shore yonder, to the village
of Bath, where I can send an important telegram to King-
67
THE OLD LOYALIST
ston before starting across the lake. It will not detain
us very long."
" I'm at your service, sir," Captain Drury answered,
and quickly swung the bow of the steamer in the direction
indicated. The trim little vessel sped rapidly away on
her new course, carrying her full head of steam.
They soon landed, and going ashore to the telegraph
office, the Squire sent the following telegram to the At-
torney-General at Kingston:
" Have just blown up Captain Mike Sullivan's
schooner, the Mayflower, on the Bay of Quinte, with a
cargo of Fenian arms and ammunition. Have definite
knowledge of an intended movement of the enemy to-
morrow all along the American frontier. Am on my
way to Oswego to investigate. Have your forces ready
for any emergency.
" George Clinton."
Stepping aboard the steamer again, the old Loyalist
farmer said, with all the composure he could command :
" All right, Captain Drury, you may now head for Os-
wego without fear of any more interruptions on my
part. The sooner we reach there the better."
Retracing her course for some little distance the
steamer passed through the " Upper Gap " and headed
direct for Oswego. The great lake was as smooth as
glass, and the sunshine from a cloudless sky made the
temperature all that could be desired.
Curtis walked about the steamer examining every part
and asked the engineer many questions concerning the
working of the machinery. He watched the flying gulls,
68
THE CAPTAIN'S VOYAGES ARE ENDED
the jumping fish, the cloud of smoke, the retreating waves
on either side of the steamer, and enjoyed all those sen-
sations peculiar to one's first voyage, which we all re-
member so well.
Squire Clinton chatted occasionally with Curtis and
the Captain, but for the most part his mind was occupied
with the strange events which had already transpired
that day, and with the probable outcome of the bold
venture he was making to upset the plans of the enemy.
Straightforward in all his dealings in the past, he did
not relish the experience of a member of the Clinton
family, whose name had never been sullied, impersonat-
ing someone else especially Captain Mike Sullivan,
whose sordid life and drunkenness were notorious. The
Squire naturally shrank from deception, and now, after
the excitement and commotion of the morning were over,
and he had an opportunity of looking at the question in
its true light, he regretted that he had permitted Captain
Drury to deceive himself. He felt constrained to go to
the Captain and frankly confess he was not Captain Sul-
livan, but his next neighbor, George Clinton, and en-
deavor to persuade him to turn the steamer back once
more and put him on the shore of the Bay. Then he
thought of the probable movement of the Fenians into
the Bay of Quinte, even without Captain Mike's leader-
ship, or the Mayftozver's cargo, from which to equip
themselves. The enemy would not be wholly dependent
upon the Mayflower's stores; carnage and destruction
would inevitably follow, in which the Clinton family and
all their neighbors would be involved.
" This is an exceedingly bad business we've got mixed
up in, Curtis, my lad," the Squire finally said, with a
deep sigh ; " but we'll have to go through with it now
69
THE OLD LOYALIST
and do what we can to save our friends at home from
these Fenian cutthroats."
The dusk of evening was creeping over land and
water when Captain Drury's steamer reached the port of
Oswego, and slowly wended its way to the dock amid
a perplexing mass of vessels and steamers, aboard which
much confusion seemed to prevail.
70
CHAPTER V.
PLANS OF THE ENEMY DISTURBED.
Standing alert in the bow of the steamer, Squire
Clinton and Curtis observed that there was great activity
and commotion on all sides. Transports were being
loaded and soldiers were marching to and fro singly and
in companies. Draymen were unloading piles of goods,
and crowds of men were working on the docks stowing
them away on the transports all indicating clearly that
the movement of the Fenian forces on the morrow, or
even on that very night, was no myth. A somewhat
shabbily dressed military officer hurriedly came aboard
as soon as they touched the dock, and spoke to Captain
Drury in an excited manner with a brogue that quickly
betrayed his nationality.
"Well, Captain Drury, did you foind him?"
" Yes, sir, I have Captain Sullivan aboard," replied
the commanding officer, " and here he is. Captain Sulli-
van, allow me to make you acquainted with Major Mul-
cahey, of New York, now in charge of our forces at
this port." !
" Be jabers, and Oi'm roight glad to meet yez, Cap-
tain Sullivan," exclaimed the nervous Major, as he ex-
tended his hand.
" Am pleased to know you, Major Mulcahey," Squire
Clinton gravely replied, as he shook hands with the
Fenian officer.
" The Gineral your brither, Captain Sullivan went
to Buffelow this mornin', sor, and requisted me to meet
7i
THE OLD LOYALIST
yez and put yez at once in charge as pilot of our large
expedishun, bound for the Bay of Kanta, and now al-
most ready to sail, sor. Glad indade Oi am, sor, that yez
have arrived jist in the nick of toime."
" Very well, Major Mulcahey," Squire Clinton re-
plied, indifferently. " Have you any special orders from
the General ?"
" Begorra and yez betther come along wid me to me
state-room, Captain Sullivan, and we'll discuss mathers
of importance forninst the toime the transports be riddy
to start."
" Very well, Major. This is my little grandson,
Curtis, who insisted on coming along with me to take
care of his old grandfather."
" Yis, Captain Sullivan, foine lad Oi'm shure. In-
tilligent, no doubt, and can kape his mouth shut. Bring
him along, Captain."
Thus Squire Clinton was handed over by Captain
Drury to Major Mulcahey, neither of whom, fortunately,
had ever seen or known Captain Mike Sullivan. The
Major immediately sent a telegram to Buffalo announcing
the arrival of Captain Sullivan. Soon they were seated
in the Major's state-room, and for some time the Squire
listened attentively to an account of the disposition of
the forces along the frontier, of the special purpose of
the expedition now ready to start for the Bay of Quinte,
and of the brilliant prospect, in Major Mulcahey's mind,
of taking Canada. Soon a messenger came in with a
dispatch to the Major from General Sullivan at Buffalo,
which read as follows :
"All ready for general movement. Start from Os-
wego at once, with my brother, Captain Mike, as your
pilot. Disembark at Adolphustown. Subdue the enemy
72
PLANS OF THE ENEMY DISTURBED
as you proceed east. Gather all the strength you can
through the Canadian settlement and capture Kingston
at all hazards. Reinforcements will meet you at King-
ston from Cape Vincent.
" Sullivan/'
" Read that, Captain Sullivan," said the Major, as
he handed over the telegram. " Shure and be jabers
we're in for it now. Understhand, sor, you're to lade
us to a landing-place on the Bay of Quinte near your
schooner, the Mayflower. We shall thin tow your
schooner ashore. Thin, sor, we shall prosayde to unload
and fully arm ourselves for sarvice, subdhue ony Canucks
that reshist and boldly march to Kingston; the natives
will jine us by the t'ousand, sor, so Oi'm credibly in-
formed, and wid our cannon and guns and swords, we'll
swape through Kingston, take possesshun of that strong-
hold and shoot ivery mother's son wot don't surrinder,
an' may the Blissed Vargin preserve us all from death."
"And what then, Major?" asked Squire Clinton,
quietly, as the former paused to regain his exhausted
breath.
" Bliss your soul, mon," continued the voluble Major,
" don't yez see that with Kingston as our base, and
joined by our large forces at Cape Vincent and Ogdens-
burg we'll capthure the whole Eastern counthry while
the Gineral wid his great forces will take possesshun of
the N'agary country, and swape loike a hurrycane over
the moighty west? Then, Captain Sullivan, wid the
whole of Upper Canady at our feet we'll move down to
Montreal, take possession of that commerchil methro-
palis, and, begorra, Canady is ours!"
The exultant Major had arisen from his chair, and
was now pacing back and forth in the small room with
73
THE OLD LOYALIST
the thumb of one hand fastened in the arm-hole of his
waistcoat, while with his handkerchief in the other hand
he mopped great beads of perspiration from his face.
Allowing the Major' time to cool off a bit, Squire
Clinton quietly handed him a piece of paper on which he
had scribbled a message to General Sullivan at Buffalo.
Major Mulcahey took the telegram and read aloud as
follows :
" The game is all up, General, and you had better
call off the dogs of war. The Mayflower is blown up
with all her cargo in the Bay of Quinte. The Govern-
ment of Canada is fully aware of the contemplated move-
ment of your forces. Canadian troops are now concen-
trated at Kingston, and all the other important points
along the frontier, so that there is not a ghost of a
chance for you to effect a landing anywhere on Canadian
soil. Not a corporal's guard of Canadians would join
you even if you did land. It would be rank madness,
therefore, for us to start to-night from Oswego, and you
had better countermand your order to advance, without
delay."
" For the love of hiven, Captain Sullivan, don't ask
me to sind that message to the Gineral or I'll be shot
instanter," exclaimed Major Mulcahey, quaking with
fear, as he stared at the Squire and let the telegram fall
to the floor.
" Sign that message and send it to the General, im-
mediately, Major, or take the consequences," replied
Squire Clinton, in a stern, loud voice, as he rose to his
feet and thrust the telegram in the Major's hand. " I
am telling you God's truth, and if you, sir, were to move
out of here to-night, with your forces to the Bay of
Quinte, every man of you would be shot or taken
prisoner. I have come here, Major, expressly to tell
74
PLANS OF THE ENEMY DISTURBED
the General the facts of the case, and you must send that
dispatch at once as officer in charge, or I shall do so
myself."
"Thin shoot me, or stab me, or drown me, Captain,
but don't, for goodness sake, ask me to sind sich news.
Mother of God! What does it all mean ? The Gineral's
own brother, who ought to know what is best, upsetting
all the Gineral's well-laid plans. No, no, Captain!
Shurely you can't be in arnest. The Gineral's orders
must be obeyed."
" Then give me the telegram," demanded the Squire,
as he snatched the paper from the Major's hand and
started for the door; " there's only one thing to do that
dispatch must be sent to Buffalo at once, either by you or
me, and thus save thousands of innocent lives. You
may hold me responsible for the results that follow. Will
you send it or will you not? Speak quickly."
" Yis, Captain, I'll sind it, begorra, though the hivens
fall and the airth be rolled together loike a scroll," cried
Major Mulcahey, as he took the message and rushed
away to the telegraph office, followed by Squire Clinton
and Curtis, as fast as they could run. The Squire saw
the message signed by the Major, delivered to the agent
and sent over the wires before he left the office. Then
the alarmed Major rushed back like a madman to con-
sult with his officers about the important step he had
taken. This left the Squire and Curtis an opportunity
to walk quietly out of the office and down one of the
thoroughfares of the city, where they were soon lost to
view amid a crowd of people moving to and from the
docks.
" Well, Curtis, my boy," said Squire Clinton, when
they were again alone, " the fat's in the fire now, for
sure. We have done our little part and there's no more
75
THE OLD LOYALIST
need for us in this camp. I wish I could get a boat to-
night to take us back across the Lake; but I guess we'll
have to wait for the next train to Cape Vincent, where
we can cross to Kingston, I hope, some time to-morrow."
" What an awful thing war must be," replied Curtis,
trembling with fear. " I'm glad, oh! so glad, you made
the Major send that telegram to the General."
" Yes, my boy, war always results in much pain and
sorrow and misery, and I trust the day will come soon
when, as the prophet Isaiah says, ' they shall beat their
swords into plough-shares and their spears into pruning
hooks; nation shall not lift up sword against nation,
neither shall they learn war any more.' "
" I wonder what General Sullivan will do? I wish
we could get away, for I'm awfully afraid of these dread-
ful Fenians, grandfather."
" Don't be afraid, my dear boy. If we can get to the
Cape to-morrow we will soon be safely home again, and
then we will tell grandmother and the children all about
our experiences."
"Where shall we spend the night, grandfather?"
"Oh, we'll walk on away out in the suburbs, where
perhaps we can find a bed and get a quiet night's rest,
as we are both pretty well worn out."
"All right, grandfather; I'm awfully tired and
sleepy."
Walking on for some time they at length came to a
rough-looking boarding-house, with a lamp hanging over
the front stoop. Knocking at the half-opened door, a
kind-looking woman ushered them in and gave them a
comfortable bed for the night. They paid for their
lodging in advance and were informed that the train
would leave for the Cape about daylight the following
morning. Arranging for a call at the proper hour they
76
PLANS OF THE ENEMY DISTURBED
now retired, and soon were fast asleep and beyond the
cares and anxieties preying upon other anxious minds
that night.
Startling, indeed, was the effect of the telegram that
reached General Sullivan from Major Mulcahey. He
instantly became furious, and raved and cursed his
brother and the Major and everything in general. He
kicked the furniture in his temporary office into pieces,
tore his hair and everything else he could get his hands
on, and swore the biggest oaths that even a military man,
however well accomplished in that particular form of
speech, had ever been known to utter.
General O'Neil had already crossed the Niagara River
to the Canadian shore, with a small force, and rein-
forcements were ready to join him at a signal from Gen-
eral Sullivan. An engagement would certainly take
place there between the opposing forces the following
day.
" What in the world has come over Captain Mike?"
was the question the General asked of himself time and
again. He first thought of having his brother come to
Buffalo on a special to explain matters. He wrote a
dispatch to that effect, and then tore it up, and swore
again until the air was blue. He would order Mulcahey
to advance, as originally intended, and take chances on
the issue. Then the thought of the loss of the MayHozver
and her valuable cargo dissuaded him from that purpose.
Finally the General wrote a dispatch, ordering General
O'Neil to withdraw to the south side of the Niagara
River for the present ; sent a general message to the com-
manding officers all along the frontier to await further
orders before making any movement, and then took a
special train for Oswego, with orders to clear the line
77
THE OLD LOYALIST
and dash through at the highest speed possible, regard-
less of expense and careless of danger.
The message to General O'Neil for some unaccount-
able reason did not reach him until the following day,
after an engagement had occurred with the Canadian
forces, in which the Fenians were partially successful.
O'Neil immediately withdrew, however, on receipt of
his commander's dispatch, and thus ended the only actual
engagement of the notorious Fenian Raid, in which,
unfortunately, some lives were sacrificed on both sides.
On reaching Oswego the enraged General was soon
closeted with Major Mulcahey and asked all manner of
questions about the matters referred to in the telegram,
and especially concerning his brother Mike, and what had
become of him. No one knew where the latter had gone.
The General immediately became suspicious, and made
close inquiry as to the looks, style and manner of the man
Captain Drury had brought across the lake.
Captain Drury told all about the man waiting for him
on the wharf on the Bay of Quinte, the perfect condi-
tion of the Mayflower when they left, the sending of the
telegram to Kingston, and all other particulars.
" Did the man you brought over from Canada swear
like a trooper and constantly chew tobacco?" asked the
General of the Captain of the steamer.
" No, General, he never swore once, nor did he
chew any tobacco from start to finish," replied Captain
Drury, proudly. " His conversation and manner indi-
cated that he was a perfect gentleman."
" Then he wasn't my brother at all, you stupid fool!"
shouted General Sullivan, with an oath. " And you have
carted over here some miserable rascal of a Canadian
farmer, who, by a string of lies, has endeavored to upset
all my plans, in fact, has already, I fear, accomplished
his hellish purpose." 7 8
PLANS OF THE ENEMY DISTURBED
Again the General went off into a paroxysm of rage
and ordered Captain Drury to be put in irons. He turned
many of the Fenian soldiers into a corps of detectives,
who scoured the whole city looking for an old farmer
and his grandson. Their search was in vain during the
night; but just about the dawn of day a man and a boy
answering the description of the parties sought for were
observed going into the railway station and purchasing
tickets for Cape Vincent. Major Mulcahey and the Gen-
eral were quickly notified, and in a few minutes they
came rushing into the station gasping for breath. Squire
Clinton and Curtis were seated in a corner of the wait-
ing-room when the Major rushed up and said :
" Come this way, sor, the Gineral would like to spake
wid yez for a minute," and he took Squire Clinton's arm
and led him over to where the General stood, followed
closely by Curtis, who wore a frightened look. They
all withdrew from the station and walked round the
corner of the building, where they could not be seen or
heard by any of the citizens or railway officers who might
chance to be around.
" What is your name ?" asked the General of Squire
Clinton, in a suppressed, harsh voice, as soon as they were
by themselves.
" George Clinton, sir," came the quick response.
" Where do you come from?"
" Adolphustown, on the Bay of Quinte."
" Do you know my brother, Captain Mike Sullivan,
over there?"
" Yes, he's my next-door neighbor."
" Where is he? Why did he not come to Oswego?"
The Squire hesitated for a moment before answering,
while Curtis drew closely to his side. He met the angry
glare of General Sullivan with a steady look, as he for a
79
THE OLD LOYALIST
few moments contemplated what to say. He knew the
probable outcome if he told the whole truth, and yet he
would not shirk an honest confession. He foolishly took
for granted that he was obliged to reply to the General's
questions.
" Your brother, sir," began Squire Clinton, " lay
bound and gagged in the freight shed on the wharf, under
the eye of my servant, when Captain Drury's steamer
came in. My servant found this letter on the wharf,
from you, sir, to Captain Mike, your brother. You are
familiar with its contents. I felt justified, under the cir-
cumstances, in arresting Captain Mike as a traitor to his
country. I had just done so and was about to send him
to Kingston to be imprisoned, when Captain Drury, with-
out any solicitation on my part, invited me aboard his
steamer, which had just landed at the wharf, mistaking
me for Captain Sullivan; and I'm sure, sir, that Captain
Drury and also your officer here, Major Mulcahey, will
bear me out in that statement. I must confess, however,
that I have taken some advantage of their blunders to
carry out certain plans of my own in reference to your
infernal intrigues to despoil my country."
" Come to think, Gineral," said the Major, " I don't
belave this mon did claim to be your brother in all his
conversation wid me last night."
" Silence!" ordered the General, with an oath, " and
learn to speak when you're spoken to, you stupid blather-
skite."
" Shure, Gineral ; roight yez are, and Oi'll cut off
this blathering tongue if yez will give the word of com-
mand. I niver yit opened me mouth but Oi put me foot
in it."
" Have you anything more to say, Clinton ?" de-
80
PLANS OF THE ENEMY DISTURBED
manded the General, turning again to the Squire, vainly
endeavoring to control his extreme excitement and anger.
" Once aboard the steamer, sir," resumed Squire Clin-
ton, " I requested Captain Drury to take me over to the
Mayflower, and, unknown to him or any of his crew, I
touched a match to her and had the satisfaction, a little
later, as we were proceeding down the Bay, of hearing
an explosion that assured me the old schooner was in
splinters, and her cargo at the bottom of the Bay. We
then called at Bath and I sent a telegram to the Govern-
ment authorities in Kingston informing them of your
plans and of the blowing up of the Mayflozuer, and then
we came on to Oswego. After learning from Major Mul-
cahey the particulars of your plan of campaign, I wrote
a dispatch to you, informing you of the actual condition
of affairs, and warned you of the utter futility of your
contemplated raid on Canada, certain to prove disastrous
to your own forces and to involve the loss of many of
the lives of our own loyal Canadians. That telegram, I
presume, reached you, General Sullivan, and I trust has
resulted in forcing you to the conclusion that your well-
planned schemes to capture Canada will not work.
Would you have done less, General, had you been in my
place?"
General Sullivan understood human nature sufficiently
to know that the man before him had told the truth.
The words, the actions, the spirit of the man, all indi-
cated that Squire Clinton had made a clean breast of
his complicity in the affair. It was impossible for the
General but to admire such frankness, courage, and
loyalty to one's convictions.
"Perhaps not," the General replied, with a frown,
" but now that you are a self-convicted spy you needn't
expect any leniency on my part in dealing with you."
6 81
THE OLD LOYALIST
ut
Turning to the Major, General Sullivan ordered : " P
him in irons in the dungeon, and give him bread and
water for a diet. Give him fifty lashes to begin with,
Major, and let them be applied with vigor. Perhaps he
will realize in due time what it means to interfere with
our plans. Call a hack and take him and the boy away
at once." So saying, the General turned away in a
rage, cursing the day he was born. He was interrupted,
however, the next moment, and came back close to his
questioner so as to avoid any noise or disturbance on the
street.
" One minute, General, before you go," said Squire
Clinton, with pale face and quivering lip. " If you have
any regard for your own future welfare you had better
cancel that order about the fifty lashes and the irons,
for I warn you that my solicitor, a member of the Gov-
ernment of my country, is my personal friend, and the
moment he hears of any cruelty on your part to me,
a Canadian citizen, he will certainly demand reparation
by the Government at Washington. Then, doubtless, you
shall be dealt with in accordance with your treatment of
me and this boy, whom you have no right to imprison,
much less to treat with cruelty."
It was a strong argument, and General Sullivan did
not take long to comprehend its force, especially as he
now realized that the conquest of Canada was impossible,
that the raid was practically over, and that the Fenian
brotherhood, disgraced and despised, need not in the
future expect any favors at Washington, however they
may have been tolerated in the past.
" Never mind the lashes or irons for the present.
Major," said General Sullivan, in a hoarse whisper, " but
see that you keep a close guard over him until you re-
ceive further orders, and woe betide you if you allow j
him to escape." 82
PLANS OF THE ENEMY DISTURBED
The General turned away, and soon the Major pro-
ceeded to lay violent hands on Squire Clinton, who
promptly turned, and striking him a blow with his fist
between the eyes sent Mulcahey sprawling to the ground.
He and Curtis then ran swiftly toward the station,
where the train for Cape Vincent was slowly moving
out from the platform. Just as they were in the act of
stepping aboard the moving train, Major Mulcahey, who
had quickly recovered his feet, came rushing up with
several other Fenians, who grabbed Clinton and the boy
from behind, and clapped their hands over the mouths
of the prisoners, thus smothering their loud cries for
help. Rushing them into an empty hack beside the
platform, Mulcahey and his men drove quickly away,
and in a few minutes Squire George Clinton and his little
grandchild found themselves securely fastened within the
confines of a vile Fenian prison without a single ray of
light to illuminate the darkness or an apparent opening
to afford ventilation.
Curtis felt disposed to cry, but managed to restrain
his tears when he felt the strong arms of his grandfather
about him, and heard his reassuring voice as he repeated
part of a very familiar Psalm : " I will bless the Lord
at all times ; his praise shall continually be in my mouth.
My soul shall make her boast in the Lord; the humble
shall hear thereof and be glad. O, magnify the Lord
with me and let us exalt his name together. I sought the
Lord and he heard me and delivered me from all my
fears. They looked unto him and were lightened, and
their faces were not ashamed. This poor man cried and
the Lord heard him and delivered him out of all his
troubles. The angel of the Lord encampeth round about
them that fear him and delivereth them."
83
CHAPTER VI.
PATIENCE LIKE UNTO JOB'S.
Jake Sullivan and his son Horace saw the skirmish
on the wharf between Captain Mike and Quinte Brown.
They were descending the hill from the village with a
wagon load of wheat which they were sending to the
Stone Mills on the opposite side of the bay an ordinary
farmer's grist. Recognizing the parties at once, Jake
said to Horace:
" What's going on down there on the wharf, Horace?
Looks as though Grandaddy and Clinton's old nigger
were having a fight. Wonder what's the matter? Gran-
daddy seems to be very angry."
Horace stood up in the wagon and shouted and
clapped his hands, evidently enjoying what he saw.
" I'll back grandaddy every time, father," he said.
" Cracky ! but he's a boss fighter. Why he's licked
dozens and dozens of men since he began to sail the
lakes. He has often told me all about his fights; I'll
bet you he can lick old Quinte with one hand. Look at
that, father! Hurrah! There he goes. That's right,
grandaddy, throw him overboard. Good for you, old
man, you're a peach." Horace laughed and jumped up
and down in the wagon with glee, as he watched the
movements on the wharf, and saw Quinte pitched head-
long into the water.
84
PATIENCE LIKE UNTO JOB'S
" But there goes grandaddy into the bay, too, Hor-
ace," said Jake, with evident fear. " Guess he couldn't
stop himself after that rush. I don't believe either one
of them can swim to shore."
Jake whipped up his horses to a run, and reaching
the wharf in a few moments, jumped from the wagon
and ran to the outer end with all speed, followed by
Horace. All that could be seen, however, was Quinte
clinging to the long, shaggy hair of the dog Rover, who
had sprung into the water. Captain Mike was nowhere
visible and Jake became alarmed. Throwing off his hat,
coat, waistcoat and boots, he quickly climbed down the
outer edge of the wharf, into the water, and holding to
the logs, looked here and there under the wharf and
around the cribs, but could get no sight of the object of
his search. Ascending again to the top, Jake ran wildly
about the wharf, looking over the sides and peering into
the deep water. He called to Quinte, whom the dog
was now dragging to shore, but the old negro appeared
to be more dead than alive, and no response came from
that quarter.
" Your grandfather, I fear, is drowned, Horace,"
said Jake to his son, in a broken, quavering voice, which
caused a feeling of fear and dread to take possession of
the lad, who now began to cry. In a short time Rover
reached the shore with Quinte, who was barely able to
drag himself out of the water and up on the rocks and
sand. He lay there for some time in the warm sunshine,
sneezing and coughing, with the dog sitting beside. him,
occasionally licking his face and showing the sympathy
and affection which such animals frequently manifest.
Presently Jake Sullivan rushed over to where Quinte
lay and said:
" What did you do with father, Quinte ?"
85
THE OLD LOYALIST
" Dunno, Jake," said Quinte, slowly, and with the
greatest difficulty. " He pushed me into de water, Jake,
and he done fell in, too, and Quinte nebber see him no
mo'. Hope poo' Captain Mike ain't drowned."
" You shoved my father into the bay, Quinte ; I saw
you do it, and so did Horace. I can't find him anywhere.
He is drowned ! My father is drowned ! Do you hear,
Quinte Brown? You shall have to answer for it with
your life."
" No, Jake, Quinte didn't do it, suah as dar is a God
in heben. Quinte didn' push him in. Youah dad pushed
old Quinte in, Jake. He was awfu' mad 'cause dat boat
wouldn' come in an' take him away."
The regular steamer for Kingston came along in the
course of an hour and there was a considerable commo-
tion among the neighbors, who had meantime assembled,
and the passengers and crew of the steamer, when they
learned Captain Mike Sullivan had just been drowned;
that Quinte Brown had nearly met the same fate, and
that the Mayfloiver was on fire. A thick volume of flame
and smoke was now ascending from the schooner's deck.
The steamer passed out from the wharf quickly and con-
tinued her course down the bay, the Captain fearing to
remain near the burning vessel. The group of neighbors
stood on the wharf watching the departing steamer and
the smoke and flames from the schooner, as they dis-
cussed the sad event that had just taken place. They
thought possibly the commotion in the water by the
paddle wheels of the steamer, would raise the body.
Everyone looked carefully in all direction as the waves
from the steamer subsided, but nothing could be observed
of the object of their search.
Some of the men were about to go to the village for
grappling irons, when something occurred that rendered
86
PATIENCE LIKE UNTO JOB'S
such unnecessary. The explosion aboard the Mayflower
took place, which fairly knocked the people off their feet
and made the whole district tremble. Fragments flew in
all directions. The vessel was completely demolished.
Shortly afterwards the body of Captain Mike was
seen floating on the water. The loud concussion had
raised the dead body from the bottom of the bay. The
lad Horace was the first to discover it. He shrieked with
fear and dread. The corpse was soon obtained by means
of a boat and raised to the wharf, where all gazed upon
it with sadness and awe. The face was observed to wear
a hideous expression. There was a large hole in the
forehead where some blunt instrument had penetrated,
from which water and blood were oozing.
" Thee hast made thy last sea-voyage in this world,
Captain Mike," said neighbor Joseph Picton, as he
reverently bent over the body, " and thy spirit hast now
voyaged to another world. Thy schemes and intrigues
in this world have been brought to a sudden end. Thine
own vessel's explosion served to raise thee from thy
watery grave. Didst thou make thy peace with God
before He called thee hence?"
There was much speculation as to the probable cause
of the wound in the forehead, which was observed to
be both large and deep. Quinte crawled into his cabin,
divested himself of his wet clothing and lay down on
the bed to rest. Jake Sullivan, on the discovery of the
fire in the Mayflower, had rushed excitedly down along
the shore, opposite the vessel to try and save it. After
the explosion, which knocked him flat on the ground, he
returned to the wharf, saw his father's body with its
ghastly face, and heard the various theories of the neigh-
bors as to the cause of death. Some declared that the
87
THE OLD LOYALIST
indications pointed strongly to suicide, others said it
looked suspicious of murder. Jake Sullivan returned
at this moment.
" Quinte killed father," said Jake. " Horace and
saw the fight on the wharf. They scuffled for some
time, and then Quinte struck him a blow on the head,
and pushed him over the wharf into the water. Father's
body must have sunk to the bottom at once, for I came
up in a few moments and it was nowhere in sight.
Jake Sullivan had deliberately lied while standing
over the body of his father. He had the reputation of
being the most untruthful man in the whole country and
now did not refrain from lying even on such a solemn
occasion as the death of his father. He hated Quinte
Brown and the Clinton family, and here was a good
opportunity to get rid of " Clinton's dirty old nigger,"
as he was wont to call him.
Taking Horace aside, Jake told the lad what he must
say about the fight observed on the wharf, so that Quint
could be proven guilty of the crime. At first Horace
refused to agree with his father, by saying:
" No, father, Quinte didn't push grandaddy into the
water. Grandaddy shoved Quinte in and then fell in
himself. Don't you remember we saw it from the
wagon ?"
"Yes, Horace, perhaps you thought so from when
we stood," replied his father, " but just at the end of
the wharf, don't you remember Quinte braced his feet,
threw himself back and struck grandaddy on the head
with a hammer or something of the kind, which I dis-
tinctly saw in his hand. Then Quinte pitched grandadd
overboard and fell in himself. It was done so quickly
you may not have understood it all, Horace."
" I did not see any hammer in Quinte's hand, father.'
88
PATIENCE LIKE UNTO JOB'S
" Well, perhaps not, son, but I saw something very
plainly. That's how it all happened, my boy, and now
you must tell the story just as I have done and it will
be all right. We'll hang Clinton's old nigger for killing
your grandfather, and that will be a blessing to the
whole community."
Having fixed Horace to his satisfaction, Jake now
demanded that a coroner's inquest be held. Then the
question arose as to what had become of Quinte. They
found him in his cabin, lying on the bed sound asleep,
with Rover lying on the floor beside him. A number
of neighbors gathered inside the cabin, awakened him
and enquired all about the facts of the case. Quinte re-
lated in full all the details of what had transpired that
morning on the wharf, how he and Captain Mike had
fallen into the water, and how Rover had rescued him.
Captain Mike's body was removed to the town hall
in the village, and a messenger was dispatched for the
coroner and the sheriff. That evening the Government
officials arrived and a jury was empanelled, of which
Joseph Picton was the foreman. The hall was packed
with people. Doctor Morrison, a well-known physician,
examined the wound and testified as to its nature. The
probability was strong, he thought, that death ensued
from the wound, which apparently had been caused by
a blunt, round iron of some description. The doctor
claimed that the falling of the body into the water was
a minor circumstance a common episode in the lives of
sea-faring men. The body apparently had not risen to
the surface, as it otherwise should have done.
Quinte was next called and again recounted all the
circumstances that happened from the time he went to
the wharf in the morning until Squire George Clinton
left on the steamer for Oswego. He related how Cap-
89
THE OLD LOYALIST
tain Mike twisted and squirmed while bound after Squire
Clinton's departure. Then he continued to inform the
Court in his own peculiar way:
" I tried to hoi' Captain Mike do'n, but, golly, he
war too strong fo' Quinte. He got hoi' of my jack-knife
on de flooah, cut de rope dat boun' hes hands. Den, golly,
he knocked me sprawlin' ober a salt barr'l and jist cut
de oder cords on hes legs an' behold, Captain Mike was
free. He den ran out on de wharf like lightenin', an'
yelled fo' dat steamah to come in fo' him, an' waved his
han'kerchief fo' long time, but no, de steamah wouldn't
come; an' so Captain Mike he jist run back an' catch me
an' say : ' You infe'nal black niggah rascal, I'll t'row
you clean ober in de bay.' Captain Mike pushed me off
the wharf, frien's, suah as preachin'. Den he fall in
arter me, an' I nebber see him any mo'. When I come
up to de top ob de watah, golly, dar I see de good dog
Rovah. He come up to me an' I catch him by de hai' an'
he jist pulls me out to de shore neah dead, an' that's all
Quinte knows bout poo' ol' Cap'n Mike's def."
" Thee hast given a straightforward account. Quinte
Brown," said the foreman, as Quinte concluded his evi-
dence, " and I, for one, believe thou hast told the truth,
the whole truth, and nothing but the truth."
Mrs. Clinton was called and testified to the fact that
Squire Clinton and Curtis had left their home that morn-
ing to take the steamer for Kingston. She had no
knowledge of what had subsequently taken place until
hearing the news from Quinte and others. She had no
doubt about the truth of Quinte's statement.
Jake Sullivan was called, and by swearing that he
saw a hammer, or something resembling a hammer, in
Quinte's hand, with which Quinte struck his father, lie-
fore they both fell into the water, he materially changed
90
PATIENCE LIKE UNTO JOB'S -
the whole aspect of affairs. Horace followed and told
substantially the same story as his father. The coroner
now reviewed the evidence, which he thought showed
conclusively that a murder had been committed and called
upon the jury for a decision. The jurymen, with one
exception, thought the evidence sufficiently strong to
justify them in sending Quinte Brown up for trial for
the murder of Captain Mike Sullivan.
That exception was Joseph Picton, the Quaker fore-
man, who, having implicit confidence in the truthfulness
of Quinte, would not be shaken in his opinion by any-
thing Jake Sullivan might say. He pointed out the pos-
sibility of Jake being mistaken at so great a distance from
the scene of action, even if he really thought Quinte
struck his father with a hammer. But the old Quaker's
protest was of no avail, and a verdict was rendered for
the commitment of Quinte Brown.
Great sympathy was expressed on all sides for the
old negro servant, who had never been known to do an
unkind act. Quinte was arrested by the sheriff and taken
away and lodged in the county jail, to await his trial
for the murder of Captain Mike Sullivan. It was a
sorrowful home at the Clinton's during the succeeding
weeks and months. The absent ones did not return, nor
could any word be obtained as to their whereabouts. The
Attorney-General, although exceedingly busy with Con-
federation affairs, quickly responded to a personal appeal
from Mrs. Clinton, and hastened to her side from Ot-
tawa. They discussed the whole matter in all its de-
tails, and Mrs. Clinton learned now for the first time
that it was her husband who had set the Mayflower on
fire, and his reason for so doing. The Attorney-General
told her of the important telegram her husband had sent
him and how thankful he was to get it; also that the
91
he
;'c h
w-
lld
THE OLD LOYALIST
probable reason for going to Oswego was to endeavor
to upset the plans of the enemy. They had likely been
imprisoned; but now that the raid was practically over
they would doubtless soon be released and allowed to
return home. He praised Squire Clinton's actions in
the highest terms. Mrs. Clinton expressed her anxiety
about Curtis and a certain walnut box given him by
Quinte, which the lad carried with him in a small leather
book-bag under his coat, intending to deposit it in th
Attorney-General's vault for safe-keeping. Mrs. Clint
placed Quinte's defence in the hands of the Attorneys
General, and requested him to spare no expense in the
case, as she was now positive Quinte had told the trutj
and had not murdered Captain Mike Sullivan. Ma
donald returned to Kingston on the steamer the follow
ing morning assuring her that everything possible woul
be done to have the whereabouts of her husband and
Curtis discovered; that Quinte's defence would be im
mediately taken in hand by his law-partner in Kingsto
who would communicate with her from time to ti
as matters developed, while she must write him pe
sonally at Ottawa whenever he could be of any assist-
ance.
The children, Helen, Gertrude and Walter, were
almost disconsolate, and wandered about the place, back
and forth to Quinte's cabin, lonely and dejected. They i
constantly talked about Curtis and their grandfather and I
wondered why they did not return. They could not
believe Quinte had done anything wrong and felt very ,
sorrowful over his imprisonment.
They abhorred the very sight of Horace Sullivan,
and ran from him when he came near, as though he were j
afflicted with some hideous disease. They had heard
Horace's evidence in the town hall and knew he was j
92
PATIENCE LIKE UNTO JOB'S
in part responsible for connecting their good old friend
Quinte with the death of Captain Mike, and that, to
them, was an unpardonable crime. Horace began to
learn he was an object of dread and dislike to his former
playmates; and while he could not understand the cause
fully, yet a guilty conscience accused him of having done
wrong in saying that his grandfather was killed by
Quinte, and he naturally began to avoid the Clinton chil-
dren as much as possible.
Joseph Picton, driving a fat and sleek horse before
an old family phaeton, was a daily caller at the Clinton
home. Squire Clinton and he had always been bosom
friends, and they had implicit confidence in each other.
Joseph now took charge of Mrs. Clinton's farming opera-
tions and induced the neighbors to lend a hand in cutting
hay, harvesting and other work. He brought a word of
cheer and encouragement to the lonely woman, who was
always delighted to see him and to accept his kindly
advice.
" Thee must have hope and faith that a providential
hand is directing the family in this matter, friend Mary,"
said Joseph one day, when Mrs. Clinton felt much dis-
couraged. "Thy Father in Heaven plans for the best
for His children; and some day thou wilt understand
what may be a mystery to thee to-day. Thy husband did
his duty. Quinte committed no crime. Curtis is innocent
of any wrongdoing. We are His children, friend Mary,
and ' Like as a father pitieth his children, so the Lord
pitieth them that fear Him and delivereth them.' "
" But why should we wait so long for deliverance,
Uncle Joseph?" answered Mrs. Clinton, as she wiped
away the falling tears.
" How long hast thou waited now, friend Mary?"
93
THE OLD LOYALIST
" Six weeks and they have been the longest and
dreariest of my life."
" True, but six weeks is a very brief period in God's
sight when trying thy faith."
" We fear Him, do we not, Uncle Joseph ?"
" Thou dost fear Him, without doubt, and thou and
thy family hast feared the Lord all thy days."
" And the Lord pities us as we pity our children?"
" Yea, much more than we can pity our children."
" Then why does He wait so long even six weeks-
and permit this load of sorrow to overwhelm me?"
" Dost thou not remember a man of old called Job?"
asked the Quaker, with a kindly smile.
" Yes, a most remarkable character indeed."
" Perfect and upright and one that feared God and
eschewed evil."
" True, I remember the words, Uncle."
" How long did Job wait for relief, friend Mary ?"
" A long time indeed, and he patiently endured ter-
rible afflictions."
"What was the result?"
" 'So the Lord blessed the latter end of Job more than
his beginning,' is what the Bible says."
" Yes, quite sure ; also the Lord gave Job twice as
much as he had before. His patience in affliction was
doubly rewarded."
" I wish I could have faith that there will be such a
happy outcome from my present trouble. I never real-
ized before how dependent we are upon the mercies of
our Heavenly Father."
" Exercise faith in God and have patience, friend
Mary, and thou shalt see the same things come to pass.
Thou shalt surely find ultimately that the Lord pitieth
thee and delivereth thee."
94
PATIENCE LIKE UNTO JOB'S
" Thank you for your comforting words, Uncle Jos-
eph. I feel stronger already and shall now leave the mat-
ter in the hands of Him whom I have always been taught
to believe doeth all things well."
" That's right. We knew thee to be full of faith, and
all thee needed was a word of cheer and a shake of the
old Quaker's hand. Good morning, friend Mary. We'll
finish the hay to-day and start the wheat to-morrow."
The good man drove away leaving a ray of sunshine
behind him a custom he had always followed through-
out a long, useful life, which made him a welcome visitor
in every home in the community.
Walter Earle, the young emigrant lad, did all in his
power to assist Mrs. Clinton in conducting the affairs of
the farm. She found him a great help to her in her time
of extremity. " I don't know how we could possibly get
along without you, Walter," she would say to the little
fellow." You're the only man we have now about the
place, and I must depend upon you for so many things.
I'm very glad indeed you are now one of our own family
my own boy on whom I can lean for support."
"You have been very good to me, Mrs. Clinton a
mother could not have been better and I'm very glad to
be able to help you a little with the work and partly repay
you for all your kindness. I hope you'll give me plenty
to do, for I'm strong and well able to work, and you
must take good care of yourself until the Squire's return."
The boy felt proud of the confidence reposed in him,
and early and late was found faithfully doing the chores,
and running errands and making himself generally useful.
The girls, Helen and Gertie, were a great comfort to
Mrs. Clinton and materially assisted her in all her house-
hold duties. But the former exhilaration and life of the
95
THE OLD LOYALIST
place was gone no shouting, no singing, no laughing.
The children felt gloomy and depressed as though a fun-
eral were about to take place. The former buoyant spirit
which had constantly prevailed when Squire Clinton and
Curtis were present, would not now return, and Mrs. Clin-
ton consequently found her task the heavier, owing to
the intense sadness of the three little children of her home.
96
CHAPTER VII.
THE JURY REVERSES ITS VERDICT.
The summer holidays ended and the autumn term
of the court of Queen's Bench opened in the county
town with a sensational murder case first on the docket.
The local and provincial papers, stirred up to fever heat
over the Fenian Raid, had published- many articles re-
lating to the murder of Captain Mike Sullivan, the dis-
appearance of the Clintons, and the blowing up of the
notorious schooner, the Mayiloiver, with her cargo of
arms and ammunition. Consequently, the people from
all parts of the county flocked to the court room to see
and hear this important trial. The Grand Jury, with
very short deliberation, rendered a true bill. It was the
first case called by Judge Thompson, and the court room
was thronged with an excited crowd, requiring the ser-
vices of several extra constables to preserve order. The
selection of a jury was a difficult problem, as many of
those called confessed to having previously formed an
opinion. That opinion, it may be said, was almost uni-
versally against the prisoner. Twelve men, loyal and
true, were found who had open minds on the subject.
The trial began with a brilliant array of legal talent on
either side. Mrs. Clinton and the three children occu-
pied seats within the railing near Patterson, the Attorney-
General's legal partner and leading counsel for the de-
fence.
7 97
THE OLD LOYALIST
Quinte or Moses Brown, as he was known in court
was dressed in his best Sunday suit, and though emaciated
and wrinkled, with a thick mass of curly grey locks sur-
mounting a sad countenance, the old colored servant pre-
sented a very respectable appearance in the prisoner's
dock. He smiled at the Clinton children after taking
his seat, and they, not having seen him all this time,
with one impulse, jumped from their chairs, vaulted
over the railing enclosing the prisoner, and were seated
on the old man's lap or had their arms around his neck
before the guards or constables could interfere. This
caused a ripple of merriment to pass through the court-
room, and the constables had to call out loudly : " Order !
Order in the court ! Order !" a good many times before
the children were gotten back to their seats and the court
was enabled to proceed.
Now, while Quinte's trial was in progress through-
out the day an incident took place elsewhere destined to
be of vital importance to the court's final verdict, which
it might be well at this interval to follow.
The Attorney-General had run up from Ottawa and
sat in his partner's office in Kingston that morning,
immersed in a variety of matters pertaining to his con-
stituency, with a large quantity of papers spread over
his desk. A clerk quietly opened the door and inter-
rupted him by saying:
" There's a dirty street Arab in the outer office, sir,
who persists in saying he must see you personally."
" Who is he, Frank? This is a very busy morning,
you know, with me," the Attorney-General replied, in a
low voice, as he glanced up from his papers.
" He will not give his name or business, sir. I tried
to send him away and have him call again some other
98
THE JURY REVERSES ITS VERDICT
time, but he refused to budge an inch, and said a man's
life depended on seeing you."
" He must be a stubborn Grit, eh, Frank, to hold
on so well? Bring the lad in anyway until we find out
what his trouble may be. A man's life is of more im-
portance than these dry documents before me."
Frank soon returned with a filthy, ragged, half-
starved looking creature, who could scarcely pull one
leg after another from sheer exhaustion.
" For God's sake, boy, what is the matter with you,
and where did you come from?" asked the Attorney-
General, startled by the pitiful looking sight before him.
The lad gazed for a moment on the Attorney-General,
then on Frank, and then at the door. He did not say a
word, but his actions readily signified the thought in his
mind.
The Attorney-General quickly took the hint and told
Frank he might retire. When they were alone he ad-
dressed the boy in a kindly voice.
" Well, my little fellow, what can I do for you ?
What is troubling your mind this morning?"
Immediately the boy's features relaxed, and ap-
proaching the desk, he said, timidly, " Please, Mr. Mac-
donald, will you take care of a little box for me?"
"Certainly, my young man. Where is your box?"
" Here it is, sir," and the boy proceeded to take out
from under his tattered coat a small, dirty, leather book-
bag, from which he extracted a black walnut box with
a brass plate on the lid, polished clean and bright.
The Attorney-General, with a look of surprise, took
the box from the extended, grimy hand, and read the
name on the plate, " Percival Clinton."
"Where did you get this, my boy?" he asked,
99
THE OLD LOYALIST
slowly, as he looked the box over and over with the
keenest of interest.
" From Quinte Brown, sir."
"When?"
" Last Christmas."
"Where have you been recently?"
" In prison, sir, in Oswego."
"What is your name?"
" Curtis Clinton."
" Who imprisoned you ?"
" General Sullivan, of the Fenian army, sir ; sent my
grandfather and me to prison."
"Where is your grandfather now, Curtis?"
" Still in prison in Oswego."
" How did you get away?"
" I stole out yesterday when the guard, who was
drunk, brought us our food."
"How is your grandfather?"
" Nearly dead, sir. I'm afraid he can't stand it many
days longer. Does not eat anything now just drinks
a little water. That's really what I came to see you
about, sir. It doesn't make much difference about this
old box, for I can keep it myself, but I'd like to save my
dear grandfather's life."
" How did you get here, Curtis?"
" I stole a ride on the train, sir, from Oswego to
Cape Vincent. I got there in the night and crossed over
on the boat this morning."
" Have you had anything to eat, my boy, since you
left Oswego?"
" No, sir. I hadn't a cent of money with me anc
the purser came near throwing me off the boat. I was
so glad he didn't that I forgot all about being hungry."
" You are as great a hero as your grandfather, Cur-
IOO
THE JURY REVERSES ITS VERDICT
tis," said the Attorney-General, patting the lad on the
head as he seated him on a chair.
Remembering what Mrs. Clinton had told him about
Curtis and his grandfather starting for Kingston, the
Attorney-General now anxiously asked : " Did you see
Quinte Brown kill Captain Mike Sullivan and throw him
off the wharf at Adolphustown?"
Curtis looked in blank amazement for a moment, and
then replied, " Quinte didn't kill Captain Mike."
" How do you know that ?"
" Why, sir, grandfather and I watched them from
the steamer and saw Captain Mike push Quinte off the
wharf and then fall in himself."
" Are you sure of that, Curtis?" exclaimed the Attor-
ney-General, as he arose, grasped the boy by the hand
and eagerly looked in his eyes.
" Yes, sir. God knows I'm telling you the truth.
Then we saw Rover jump in, too, and we hoped he
would save Quinte's life, and then the steamer went be-
hind the island and we could see nothing more."
" He did, Curtis. Good old dog ; he saved Quinte
from drowning; but when Captain Mike's body was
found there was a big hole in his forehead as though
struck with an iron, and Quinte is suspected of having
struck the Captain with a hammer, and is now being
tried for his life."
Curtis rubbed his hand over his dirty face, and his
fingers through his long, matted hair, engaged in deep
thought for a few moments. Then he said, in a low,
hesitating voice, as though deeply mystified, " Well, I
can't see how that could be, sir. Quinte didn't do it,
that's sure. His head must have struck against some-
thing when he fell off the wharf."
" Whose head, Curtis?" quickly asked the Attorney-
IOI
THE OLD LOYALIST
General, with a quick flash of the eye which indicated
a sudden impulse had come to his mind, due to the lad's
answer.
" Captain Mike's head must have hit against some-
thing sharp to make a hole in his forehead."
" Curtis Clinton," said the Attorney-General, taking
both of the boy's hands in his own. " I cannot begin
to tell you how glad I am you came to my office this
morning. I believe you have the real facts about Cap-
tain Mike's mysterious death. You have more brains
than the whole of us blockheads put together, for not
one of us ever thought of looking to see if the wound
in Captain Mike's forehead was not made by his falling
against something sharp a spike or a bolt, or some-
thing of that sort in the edge of the wharf or under
the water."
Then, looking at his watch, he continued : " I hope
it is not too late yet, Curtis, to save Quinte's life. He is
being tried to-day and we must go at once and make
an examination of the wharf. But you must have a
change of clothing and something to eat, for you look
as though prison life had not agreed with you very well.
I will put your walnut box away in the vault here where
it will be perfectly safe, and you can get it at any time
you wish."
" Thank you, sir ; you are very kind."
The Attorney-General rang a bell, and on his clerk
coming in, quickly ordered as follows :
" Here, Frank, take this boy over to the hotel and
give him a bath, buy him a good suit of clothes the
best is none too good, remember and fit him up like a
gentleman. Give him something to eat, Frank but be
careful, not too much, as that poor little stomach has
not been getting its normal supply for some time, as you
102
THE JURY REVERSES ITS VERDICT
can see and then bring him back to the office ready
for a trip."
" Very well, sir. We will be back in about an hour."
" That will do, Frank. Send Harry in."
The Attorney-General then began to gather up his
papers and clear his desk. A moment later he remarked,
as the second clerk appeared, " Harry, go down to the
docks and engage me a steamer the fastest one you
can get and have it all ready in an hour's time for a
trip up the Bay of Quinte. You need say nothing about
the price just say that it is for me and that I'm in a
wee bit of a hurry. Send Jack in."
" Very well, sir," replied Harry, as he backed out
of the door and scurried away to execute his employer's
commands.
Soon the door opened and another clerk entered.
" Here Jack, just run over to the office with this
telegram," the Attorney-General quietly commanded, as
he finished writing a message to his partner Patterson in
reference to his recent discovery. " While you are out,
Jack, you might step round and tell Doctor Sinclair I
desire him to go with me up the Bay on a steamer on
professional work for the balance of the day, and that we
shall be ready to start in an hour. Tell him it is im-
portant and that he must be sure and come if at all
possible."
" Very well, sir," Jack responded, as he, too, hastened
away to perform his mission.
" I wonder who Percival Clinton is, or was," re-
marked Macdonald, as he took the walnut box in his
hand, glanced again at the inscription, and proceeded to
put it away in the vault. " Methinks if that box has
been in Quinte Brown's possession all these years it must
belong to pre-Revolutionary days down in old Virginia,
103
THE OLD LOYALIST
where, I understand, the Clinton Loyalists came from.
What the deuce does it contain, I wonder ? Not money
it is too light for that. Oh, likely some old legal docu-
ments which would not be worth a penny if the pro-
perty was afterwards confiscated. Let me see! Clinton
was a Loyalist. That settles it, as the American Govern-
ment would certainly take possession of his property
at the conclusion of the war and give it to the victors.
I'm afraid otd Quinte's polished walnut box is more
valuable than its contents at the present time."
Promptly at the expiration of the hour the steamer's
bell gave the signal to go ahead, and with bow pointing
westward up the Bay of Quinte, the Attorney-General
and his little party took their seats upon the deck and
enjoyed the refreshing breeze. It was one of those de-
lightful warm days of the early autumn when a cruise
on the water invigorates a man and produces again the
buoyancy of youth. They sped away out of the harbor
with Fort William Henry frowning upon them from a
prominent point on the left, and with the picturesque old
Limestone City, sprinkled here and yonder with clusters
of green verdure slowly changing to autumnal tints, lying
on the right. They passed many excellent farms on
either side, sailing yachts and pleasure steamers on the
bay, and villages and hamlets basking in the sun. A
few hours' speedy sailing sufficed to bring them to the
Adolphustown wharf. Curtis rejoiced to see so many
familiar landmarks, and the old Clinton home nestling
among the trees. No time was lost in making the re-
quired examination of the wharf. Curtis showed the
Attorney-General and Doctor Sinclair the relative posi
tions of Captain Mike and Quinte, as he saw them fr -in
the steamer, near the spot where they disappeared ui
the water. With a pike pole they now prodded around
104
THE JURY REVERSES ITS VERDICT
in the bottom at this point, and against the outer edge
of the wharf. Nothing could be found projecting above
the bottom for some time ; but after a little, Dr. Sinclair
struck a drift-bolt projecting from the wharf, which had
been bent up so that its head was nearly perpendicular
and out about six inches from the face of the log in
which it was driven. The blunt head of the round bolt
was about three-quarters of an inch in diameter, and
about two feet below the surface of the water. All got
down in a small boat and examined the bolt carefully,
its size and shape, position of the wharf and exact depth
and length of head below the level of the water. Again
they returned to the surface of the wharf, and again
Curtis carefully explained the movements of the men.
Then Dr. Sinclair said, in a very decided voice:
" Without doubt, a man falling into the water here,
as the boy says Captain Sullivan did fall, and partly
swinging around to recover himself while in the act,
would naturally pitch along the edge of the wharf head
first, and would almost certainly come in contact with
that iron. I haven't a shadow of a doubt but that the
Captain was killed by striking his head against that bolt."
" Nor I, either, Doctor," said the Attorney-General,
with evident satisfaction. " And now, if you will kindly
make a little sketch of the end of the wharf and the rela-
tive position of that bolt, we will move on to Napanee
as fast as possible and endeavor to get our evidence be-
fore the court before the trial closes.
Soon the steamer was moving rapidly up the Bay,
with the cove where the Loyalists first landed on the
right, and Quinte Brown's old log cabin plainly in view.
" Never mind, Curtis, my brave boy !" said the At-
torney-General, kindly, as he came up to the lad a few
minutes later, who was looking off in the direction of
i5
THE OLD LOYALIST
his home with his eyes full of tears, " None of your
friends are at home now, you must remember, on account
of Quinte's trial. You will see them all as soon as we
can get to town and they will all certainly be right glad
to see you, and of course you'll be delighted to see them."
The lad's face brightened up quickly, as he replied,
" It seems a long time since I saw them, sir. I wonder
if they'll know me."
" Oh, yes. I have no doubt your friends will know
you, Curtis, although I must confess you do not look
much like a farmer's boy in that new suit of clothes
you have on. It fits like a charm and makes you look
like the prince, which, indeed, you are."
" If poor grandfather was only here, sir, I'd be glad,"
and Curtis gave a deep sigh. It is awful, sir, in that
dirty prison. Can't we get him out soon, sir? I wonder
how we lived so long in that dreadful place."
" Yes, my brave little fellow. We'll lose no time in
getting my good friend, your grandfather, set free; but
we must first try and save poor old Quinte's life."
" Yes, sir. Quinte is a good old man, and I'm sure
he wouldn't do wrong. He's been a good friend of
ours, and I hope he won't have to die, sir." Again
Curtis's eyes filled with tears.
The steamer soon swung round the most westerly
point of the township, and then, with Carnahan Bay "and
Hay Bay on the east, and the high Prince Edward shore
on the west, she glided down the long reach like a race
horse. At Deseronto then known as Mill Point the
course was again changed to the east, and leaving the
Bay of Quinte, the narrow Napanee River was more
slowly ascended, with due regard to the brightly painted
buoys planted at intervals, denoting the narrow winding
channel along the course. Reaching the Napanee wharf,
1 06
THE JURY REVERSES ITS VERDICT
the passengers alighted, and calling a hack, they were
driven rapidly to the court-house at the far end of the
town.
Entering the court-room by one of the side doors,
the Attorney-General, Dr. Sinclair and Curtis edged
their way in through a dense crowd, almost entirely un-
observed, to a position near the railing, from which the
Attorney-General managed to catch his partner's eye.
In another moment the two were conferring together.
A few words sufficed to explain the situation. The dull
look of discouragement that had taken possession of the
chief counsel for the defence was seen to rapidly dis-
appear and give place to one of hope and animation.
The evidence had all been taken. Patterson had ad-
dressed the jury and had done the best possible under
the circumstances for the prisoner, with the preponder-
ance of evidence against his client.
The great criminal lawyer, Drummond, Q.C, from
Toronto, who had a reputation for hanging prisoners in
murder trials in which he was the Crown counsel, had
likewise addressed the jury, and the great throng in the
court-room, with very few exceptions, had become con-
vinced by Drummond's forcible arguments, that the
prisoner was guilty of murder. Judge Thompson had
charged the jury, and while he admitted there was an
element of doubt as to the prisoner's guilt, yet he thought
the evidence of Jacob Sullivan and his son Horace, the
only eye witnesses of the scene, was so clear and definite
that Captain Sullivan had been struck by some weapon
in the hands of the prisoner, before he fell into the
water, that he was forced to the conclusion the prisoner
was guilty of murder. The jury had formally adjourned
to arrive at a decision, which had already practically
been made before leaving the judge's presence. They
107
THE OLD LOYALIST
had returned to the court-room with their verdict, and
were answering to their names when the trio from the
steamer entered. The judge was now in his seat, with his
black cap beside him. Quinte Brown, the old black
prisoner in the box, looked sad and dejected, as though
every hope had fled. Mrs. Clinton and the children sat
within the railing, shedding bitter tears. Every member
of the local bar, and every fledgling in the law-offices
of the town, was standing about on the tip-toe of ex-
pectation. Not a whisper was heard. There was breath-
less silence.
" Gentlemen of the jury, have you arrived at a ver-
dict?" It was Judge Thompson who spoke.
" We have, my Lord," came the response from the
foreman.
" What is your verdict?"
Quick as a flash, and before the foreman had time to
reply, Patterson arose and said, with evident emotion :
" My Lord, may I address you for a moment before
the jury announces its verdict?"
Every eye was immediately turned on him, and, as
the judge was agreeable to the request, Patterson con-
tinued : " Before the verdict of the jury is pronounced in
this case, which we all firmly believe would be against
the prisoner, I desire to request the indulgence of the
court for a few minutes, in order to explain that within
the last few moments two important witnesses for the
defence have come into this court-room prepared to give
the most conclusive evidence that the late Captain Sulli-
van's death was due to accident, and that the prisoner
at the bar consequently is not guilty. Your Lordship
will believe me when I say that said witnesses have come
by special steamer from Kingston to-day with all the
haste possible under the circumstances. They could not
108
THE JURY REVERSES ITS VERDICT
have reached this court-room a moment sooner, owing
to the fact that on the way they had to obtain part of the
evidence they are now prepared to submit. With your
Lordship's permission I shall explain in a very few words
the nature of this evidence, and I feel confident that your
Lordship will not decline to accept the weighty evidence
of these important witnesses at this moment even
though it be somewhat of an innovation in a High Court
of Justice especially since a human life is at stake."
As the judge did not enter any protest, but rather
gave an expression of relief and satisfaction, the counsel
for the defence proceeded with a brief narrative of the
names of the witnesses and the nature of the evidence
they were prepared to submit. He brought the lad Cur-
tis forward so that he could be seen by the judge, and
told of his escape from prison, and of Squire Clinton
still being held a prisoner at Oswego.
He told of the conflict on the wharf witnessed by the
lad, of the examination by Dr. Sinclair, and of the dis-
covery of the bolt, and explained how naturally Captain
Sullivan's head would strike this object on his descent
into the water under such circumstances. A few minutes
sufficed to relate these facts, and then Patterson said :
" That, my Lord, is the substance of the evidence I
desire to submit, and if permitted to do so I am quite
sure that the prisoner, Moses Brown, shall be exonerated
from any complicity whatever in the death of Captain
Sullivan."
Drummond, the Crown Counsel, here entered a
vigorous protest against such an unusual proceeding,
which the judge noted, and then demanded that the wit-
nesses be called.
The evidence of Dr. Sinclair and Curtis Clinton was
109
THE OLD LOYALIST
submitted. The counsel completed their arguments for
and against the prisoner. Again the judge addressed the
jury, and again the jury retired to decide upon a verdict.
They returned in a few minutes and when they were
asked this time, by the judge, for their decision, the fore-
man's firm reply was " Not guilty," and Quinte Brown
proudly stepped from the prisoner's box a free man.
no
CHAPTER VIII.
SQUIRE CLINTON RETURNS HOME.
Great excitement prevailed after the prisoner was
discharged and Judge Thompson left the court-room.
Everybody wanted to shake hands with Quinte and con-
gratulate him, thoroughly convinced at last that he had
committed no crime. The old man's hand was nearly
wrung off by the demonstrative crowd which clustered
around him for the next hour. The lad Curtis had
quickly won the sympathy of everyone in the court-room
when, thin, and pale and weak, he appeared in the witness
box, and told the whole story of what had transpired in
simple, boyish language which everyone implicitly be-
lieved.
When all was over and he was at liberty to speak to
his friends, who had been intently watching and yearn-
ing to get hold of him, Curtis fell into his grandmother's
arms and then fainted away. With great exertion the
lad had heroically performed his task; but now,, over-
come with excitement and physical weakness, he sank
exhausted into the lap of his best friend, who had always
given the orphan boy a mother's care and love.
They gently carried the lad out of the court-room,
and when he had partially revived, bore him away to
the steamer, accompanied by his friends, the Attorney-
General and Dr. Sinclair. The latter made Curtis com-
fortable in a cosy state-room as the party steamed down
the narrow river by the clear light of the moon.
"How is your patient, doctor?" asked the Attorney-
iii
THE OLD LOYALIST
General of Dr. Sinclair, as he came into Curtis's state-
room, after a chat with Mrs. Clinton and the children
and Quinte outside.
" Oh, the lad's coming around all right. Nature
called a halt for a time, as she has a habit of sometimes
doing, when we disobey her laws too often, but a little
rest and nourishment and quiet will soon restore the lad
again to his usual health."
" I am very glad to hear you say so, doctor. We
put the lad through a pretty hard ordeal to-day, consider-
ing the condition I found him in at my office this morn-
ing. He must be made of pretty good stuff. I will keep
my eye on that lad when he grows up. He should make
a useful man if nothing happens him, and good men like
you and me, doctor, are scarce, you know, in this day
and age of the world."
" That's a fact," said Dr. Sinclair, glancing around
at the Attorney-General, and smiling as he observed the
well-known twinkle in the latter's eye always apparent
when a joke was forthcoming.
" I suppose his politics are of the proper shade to
suit you?"
"Bless your soul! Certainly, doctor. The Clintons
are blue-blooded, dyed-in-the-wool Tories, who stand
by the party no matter whether the wind blows fair or
foul. That's what I admire, doctor faithful support at
all times, especially when we make a mistake, which
every public man is liable to do, even with the most
honorable intentions.
"Yes, yes, I thought so; but perhaps this intelligent
lad will see the error of his way by the time he has a
vote, and come over to our Liberal side of the camp,
as your best Tories are in the habit of doing from time
to time, as you are aware."
112
SQUIRE CLINTON RETURNS HOME
"There, now, doctor, I fear I will never be able to
convert you into a good Tory pity, too, such a fine
fellow, otherwise but, to change the subject before we
get into a political discussion, I desire you to remain
aboard this steamer, go to Oswego with the rest of us
and assist in bringing back Squire George Clinton, who
must, by this time, be in a deplorable condition, if he
is not already dead."
" Certainly, if I can be of any service ; but it seems
to me you are in more need of a detective than a doctor,
in order to find his whereabouts."
" Pardon me, doctor, you are wrong for once, at least,
for you have the detective there on the bed as your
patient, and from all accounts a doctor's services will be
indispensable after we locate my good friend Clinton."
" Doubtless you are right, sir, and I shall be pleased
to bow to your commands."
" Thank you, Doctor. I knew you were made of the
right stuff. If I could only turn you around to my way
of thinking politically as easily as I can in professional
matters, my happiness would be complete, but alas, I
know you to be like adamant on the former question."
The matter of proceeding direct to Oswego was
quickly arranged with Mrs. Clinton and Quinte by the
Attorney-General, and then all, with the exception of
Dr. Sinclair, retired to rest. When they arose in the
morning it was found they had passed the Clinton home,
left the Bay of Quinte and were far out on the bosom
of Lake Ontario. It was a beautiful morning, and as
Mrs. Clinton, with Helen and Gertrude and Walter, ap-
peared at the door of the patient's state-room, they re-
joiced to find that the good doctor, who had faithfully
watched by the bedside during the intervening hours,
had Curtis looking bright and cheerful and quite himself
8 113
THE OLD LOYALIST
again. The children rushed in and hugged and kissed
the lad, and assured him how glad they were to find him
nearly well again. They had a jolly time together re-
counting their experiences throughout the long period
of their separation and the happy outcome of Quinte's
trial.
Mrs. Clinton and Dr. Sinclair looked on in silence
and smiled as they witnessed the happy reunion of the
children. Then Curtis called for Quinte, and when the
old servant came to the bedside the lad threw his arms
around the old negro's neck and shed tears of joy.
Quinte, who had borne up in the long, trying ordeal
without a single murmur or complaint or sign of weak-
ness, now broke down and wept like a child. The old
man raised his hands and exclaimed, in the words of
Jacob of old, when he beheld his favorite son Joseph:
" Now let me die, since I have seen thy face once
more."
At noon the doctor had his patient out on deck and
they all proceeded to the dinner-table, where, with the
Captain seated at the head, and the Attorney-General at
the foot, and Dr. Sinclair and the Clinton family and
Quinte on either side, they spent an enjoyable hour in
pleasant conversation, while discussing the excellent
menu the cook had provided.
They reached Oswego during the afternoon, and the
Attorney-General, leaving the Clintons aboard the
steamer, called a hack and drove with the Captain, Dr.
Sinclair and Curtis to the place where the latter pointed
out he had been imprisoned. The boy had no difficulty
in directing them to the spot, which was on a back
street, in an old frame shed or stable without windo'
or light from above, and with one heavily barred door.
114
SQUIRE CLINTON RETURNS HOME
They rapped loudly at the door and for response there
came a deep, plaintive groan.
" George Clinton ! Are you there ?"
"Yes. Who calls? I've heard that voice before,"
came the response slowly and in a low, unsteady voice.
" Your old friend, Macdonald, from Kingston."
" My friend Macdonald, did you say ? Can it be
possible it is my friend John A.?"
" Yes, George, it is I, John A., and I've come to
rescue you from this vile prison as soon as we can burst
open this miserable door."
" That surely sounds like the voice of my old friend.
Merciful God! can that be true?" The response was
louder and the words were uttered more rapidly, signify-
ing that Squire Clinton had become thoroughly aroused.
" I'm here, too, grandfather," shouted Curtis, loudly,
unable to restrain himself any longer ; " also grandmother
and Quinte and all our family are on the steamer at the
dock. We'll get you out of this awful place in a short
time. Cheer up, grandfather."
The words of the Psalmist now came from within,
which those standing outside could clearly distinguish :
" But the mercy of the Lord is from everlasting to
everlasting upon them that fear him, and his righteous-
ness unto children's children."
" Faith and be jabers an' wot are yez doin' here wid
me prisoner?" said a man from behind, who approached
the shed with some bread and water, walking erect, and
endeavoring to assume the air and stride of a military
officer.
" Hello there, Major Mulcahey," cried Curtis, " open
this door quick. We are going to take grandfather
away."
" Begorra, an' thar's that spalpeen that run away frim
THE OLD LOYALIST
prison unbeknownst to me, whin I was very sick, very-
sick indade. Shure an' Oi'm glad yez came back, me lad,
an' insted of lettin' the auld bloke out, Oi'll jist thro'
yez in agin to sarve out yer term wid your auld grand-
daddy."
So saying, Major Mulcahey threw down his eatables,
seized Curtis in one hand, and proceeded with him to
the prison door, which he now unlocked and unbolted.
He was about to thrust the lad inside when the Attorney-
General stepped up, and, placing his hand on the Major's
shoulder, said, quietly but sternly:
" If you value your liberty, Major Mulcahey, don't
interfere with that boy, or with me in releasing your
prisoner from this filthy hole, which is not a fit dwelling
place for a beast, let alone a human being. I shall have
to report your conduct to Washington and request that
you be soundly horsewhipped, as well as imprisoned, for
starving my good friend in this loathsome den all these I
weeks and months since the Fenian Raid was ended. He I
is a loyal Canadian citizen, and you Fenian conspirators I
are no more justified in holding him in prison than you
would be in holding me."
" And who are you, sor?" replied the Major, with all
the dignity he could command. " Who is it preshumes
to come here and demond th' relase of wan of th'
Gineral's prisoners who upset his plans jist whin he wuz
on the pint of a swaping victhory?"
" You are now addressing the Attorney-General of
Canada, Major," said Dr. Sinclair, who, having looked
inside the shed to see the prisoner, had returned and
stepped up to the astonished guard. " I think when he
sees the filthy condition of his friend inside this foul den
he will flog you himself within an inch of your life,- or
better still, ask me to do it. I would take much pleasure
116
SQUIRE CLINTON RETURNS HOME
in giving you a sound thrashing for your terrible cruelty
and unpardonable neglect of your prisoner."
" May the holy angels presarve me, sor," said the
obsequious and frightened Major, as he humbly dropped
upon his knees before the Attorney-General and pleaded
for mercy. " Shure, your Majesty, or your Riverince,
or whativer they be afther calling yez, Oi'm sorry in-
dade for the poor mon, an' would gladly have lit him
an' th' wee lad go home long ago ; but, sor, I was afeared
Gineral Sullivan, who has niver been here since, would
come back some day, sor, and skin me alive if Oi lit the
prisoner go or even treated him dacently by kapin' him
clane and nate, as God Almighty an' all the saints in
hiven an' on airth know Oi would gladly hav' done if I
had been permitted, sor, to act accordin' to the dicthates
of me own conshuns."
14 Well, Major, don't lose any more time in explana-
tion, but help us get my friend out of this hell-hole as
soon as possible," Macdonald replied, and then went in-
side and spoke to Squire Clinton. He found him in a
deplorable condition, lying upon a bare floor without a
shred of bedding, crippled with rheumatism, unwashed,
uncombed and without a change of clothing since he
became a prisoner. They picked the helpless creature up
with the assistance of the Major, and placing him in the
hack, drove quickly to the steamer. Throwing a spread
over his form, so that the family could not see his awful
condition, the men quickly carried Squire Clinton aboard.
They placed him in a lower apartment, where the doctor
cut off his filthy clothing and threw it overboard. He
then proceeded to give him a thorough bath, and after-
wards obtained the services of a barber from the city,
who shaved him and cut his hair, and thus quickly trans-
formed his appearance.
117
THE OLD LOYALIST
Meantime the Attorney-General drove away to the
nearest store and soon returned with a full outfit of the
best clothing to be found. The doctor dressed Squire
Clinton in the ready-made suit, and in short time had
him in a presentable condition. He was carried up to a
state-room and allowed to have a good rest and sleep
before his friends were admitted to see him.
It was a happy reunion when Mrs. Clinton and the
children were permitted to enter the Squire's state-room
that evening. He was still faint and weak, but the proper
nourishment, the fresh air, and the changed conditions
instantly had a marked effect on what had always been a
vigorous constitution. Squire Clinton did not attempt
to talk much, but many expressions of deep affection
passed between him and his happy wife and the four
children, as they crowded around his bedside, which
needed no words of interpretation. The children could
scarcely be restrained from pulling him out of bed, so
glad were they to see him and to hear his kindly voice
once more.
The party remained at Oswego until the following
morning, when, before leaving, the Attorney-General sent
a telegram to Bath, with instructions that the message be
delivered at once by special messenger to Joseph Picton.
They crossed Lake Ontario with a gentle breeze, a cloud-
less sky, and a lovely autumn atmosphere. As they
neared the Bay of Quinte the Squire was helped outside
to a comfortable seat in a rocker on the deck. Already
he felt like a new man, and chatted freely with his friends
about all that had taken place in his own experience, and
made many inquiries as to what had transpired during
his absence from home.
Entering the bay, he pointed out familiar Objects on
either side and seemed as happy as a young school-boy
118
SQUIRE CLINTON RETURNS HOME
returning home for his holidays. He got Curtis between
his knees and fondled him as he would a baby, calling
him " my brave little fellow-prisoner." He chatted with
Quinte about Captain Mike and what took place on the
wharf after his departure in the steamer, and learned the
particulars of what had there occurred. The Squire was
deeply pained to learn of the sad fate of his old neighbor,
Captain Mike Sullivan.
They reached their destination, and as they rounded
the little island and turned in toward the wharf, Squire
Clinton wondered what could be going on to bring to-
gether the large crowd of people that stood on the shore.
Several hundred had assembled, and there was a brass
band playing.
" They must have heard something about your com-
ing home, George," remarked the Attorney-General,
with a gay laugh. " Do you recognize the tune they are
playing?"
" Why, that's ' Home, Sweet Home/ the old farmer
replied, with tears in his eyes. " Why, John A., do you
suppose this is all intended for me? How glad I am
to get back to my dear old home and friends once more.
Seems to me I have been away for years."
" I wouldn't be surprised, George, if this is a little
celebration to welcome you home. Your friends must
have got wind of it in some way. They seem glad to
have you return, and I do not wonder at it, after all you
have done for them."
As the steamer came alongside the wharf, and the old
Quaker, Joseph Picton, caught a sight of his good friend,
the Squire, and realized that he was certainly on board
without mistake, he waved his old plug hat in the air
and shouted at the top of his voice :
"Three cheers for the hero of the Bay of Quinre,
119
THE OLD LOYALIST
Squire George Clinton, a United Empire Loyalist
descendant worthy of the name. Three cheers, I say,
men of Adolphustown."
There were three rousing cheers, and a tiger, and
then the old Quaker flung his broad-brimmed plug hat
high in the air, and clean over the steamer into the bay,
with the shout:
11 Let the plagued old Quaker plug hat go, boys, to
the bottom of the bay down among the little fishes, in
which they may play hide and seek."
" Thee hast served us for well-nigh fifty years, old
hat, but we must now buy a new, modern one to cele-
brate the memorable occasion of the home-coming of our
good neighbor and beloved benefactor."
Then the old man danced over the wharf, swinging
his red bandanna high in the air while laughing, singing
and shooting like a ten-year-old lad just let loose from
school. Such outrageous actions and expressions from
the quiet, sedate, old Quaker preacher caused surprise
and consternation among the people, one of whom after-
ward said, " Quaker Joe's antics to-day were about what
you might expect from his harum-scarum grandson.
Charlie Picton."
The only way they could account for such conduct
was that he had been on the hop, skip and jump since
receiving the Attorney-General's telegram in the early
morning, driving hither and thither notifying the people,
engaging the brass band and preparing tor the grand ban-
quet which was to follow at the Clinton home, and con-
sequently was just a wee bit nervous and excited.
The Attorney-General addressed the people from the
deck of the steamer as soon as quiet could be restored :
'* As a citizen of the Ray of Ouinte district, I'm proud to
find that you, the neighbors and friends of Squire George
I20
SQUIRE CLINTON RETURNS HOME
Clinton, have assembled in such large numbers here to-
day to honor him on his return home. He is too weak
and feeble, as you can see, to speak for himself. He
did a noble deed for his country in a critical period, as
you all well know, and now for several months has lain
in a filthy Fenian prison in Oswego, suffering on account
of his valiant deeds. To his grandson here, this lad
Curtis, we owe not only the grandfather's release, but
also the life of Quinte Brown, the faithful old servant.
Mrs. Clinton, with true Christian fortitude, has courage-
ously borne up through this very trying ordeal and has
performed her onerous duties nobly and well. Thanks
to a kind over-ruling Providence, all this suffering is
now over and the Clinton family, unbroken, returns
again to live among you and to enjoy your friendship
and hospitality. Use them well, I entreat you, and should
ever the occasion come that they may need a helping
hand, pray do not forget the service this family has ren-
dered to you and me and to every citizen of Canada.
" Words would fail to express the great source of
pleasure it has been to me, personally, to render some
little assistance in restoring this family to the peaceful,
happy life they enjoyed here on your beautiful bay before
the ' Fenian Raid ' threatened disaster and bloodshed ;
but which, thank God, has been speedily crushed out, let
us hope for all future time. In such emergencies we are
all one family all brother Canadians and it should be
our pride and boast, like it was of your Loyalist fore-
fathers, that we are ever ready to sacrifice ourselves for
one another, and for this glorious country, which is
destined some day, I verily believe, to become one of the
grandest countries on God's green earth. Some of us,
members of the Governments of the various provinces,
have been working of late to bring about a united Can-
I2Z
THE OLD LOYALIST
ada. Many obstacles have stood in the way in the past,
but the clouds are now disappearing, as our public men
learn to avoid the obstacles by rising to a higher plane.
We are gradually ascending above the valleys and plains,
and we are very hopeful that soon we shall see from
the clear mountain top a wide, prosperous, federated Can-
ada, stretching from the Atlantic to the Pacific. Some
of us are leaving in a few days for England, in order
to lay our Confederation plans before the Home Govern-
ment, and I am very hopeful that our efforts shall be
crowned with success. Should our anticipations be
realized, I feel assured this old Loyalist settlement of
the Bay of Quinte will be one of the first in Canada to
commend the action of those who have been responsible
for the welding together of our scattered, and sometimes
conflicting provinces, into a mighty, harmonious Do-
minion."
122
CHAPTER IX.
A MORTGAGE ON THE HOMESTEAD.
The Squire, like his forefathers, had always taken
pride in keeping his farm clear of debt; but now when
the education of the four children became an issue, he
got somewhat reckless and withheld no reasonable ex-
pense where he considered their best interests could pos-
sibly be conserved. The farm became less productive
owing to excessive croppings of barley the one im-
portant cereal of those years in that community. A
heavy debt upon the farm was the natural result of the
course pursued, which in the course of time began to
weigh somewhat heavily upon the mind of the owner,
who had never been accustomed to indebtedness of any
kind.
The years sped away swiftly, and the stirring events
of the preceding chapters had become but a memory,
when, one delightful summer's evening, Squire Clinton
and his good wife sat upon the wide verandah of their
house facing the bay, of which it commanded an excel-
lent view.
Seated with them in comfortable rockers were Mrs.
Jake Sullivan, now a widow, and her son Horace, in the
prime of young manhood. The latter was a bold dashing
fellow, large in stature, and full of vitality, but prepos-
sessing in neither looks nor manners. Horace's associa-
tions at college and elsewhere had not tended to elevate
his character.
123
THE OLD LOYALIST
He was now a large contractor on the construction of
the Canadian Pacific railway, and was spending some
holidays with his mother on the farm. He frequently
dropped in of an evening to have a chat with the Clinton
family, for one member of which, as will soon appear, he
entertained a very special regard.
The little company were chatting about a variety of
local incidents, while gazing from time to time at the
white sails here and there flecking the bay, at the golden
and crimson colors with which the setting sun was crown-
ing the hilltops beyond the opposite shore, and at the
passers-by along the highway at the outer edge of the
spacious, well-shaded lawn.
" The girls are coming at last with the mail," said
Mrs. Clinton, as for a moment she dropped her knitting
and looked over her spectacles in the direction of the vil-
lage, where two young ladies could be seen leisurely
walking along the road towards the house, chatting and
laughing merrily.
" We should have some word from the boys by this
time, Mary," Squire Clinton replied, as he looked away
in the direction of the approaching maidens.
In a few moments Helen Clinton and Gertrude West-
wood joined the company on the verandah. They had
grown to be beautiful young women. Helen possessed
a wealth of lovely auburn hair, and her features were
of perfect mould. She wore a light-colored dress, with
a bunch of natural roses pinned on her bosom. Her
head was surmounted by a pretty sailor hat, which was
most becoming, and in her dainty hand she carried her
gloves and parasol.
Gertrude looked charming in a dark fabric and wore
a verv becoming hat. with an ostrich plume. She had
a ruddy clear complexion, with high forehead, well
124
A MORTGAGE ON THE HOMESTEAD
chiselled nose, black eyes, thin lips, and a rich musical
voice all of which combined to create a most favorable
impression upon the minds of all whom she chanced to
meet.
After greeting the Sullivans cordially, the young
ladies laid aside their hats, gloves and umbrellas, and
took seats on the verandah beside their visitors.
" Well, what did you learn at the post to-night, girls?
Has anything new or startling happened?" inquired
Squire Clinton, as soon as they were seated.
" Well, here's your old Tory paper from Toronto,
grandfather," replied Helen. " Perhaps it may give
you some interesting news ; but I've not had time, as yet,
even to glance at it."
Then, turning to Horace, she said, " I suppose you
never read that paper, Mr. Sullivan, as you are on the
other side in politics, I understand."
" Oh, yes, Miss Clinton, indeed I do. I read them
all on both sides of politics but I don't believe any of
them tell the truth, where party interests would be bet-
ter conserved by telling a lie."
" For shame, Mr. Sullivan," Helen replied, in a tone
of astonishment ; " you would never do to belong to our
party would he, grandfather?"
" I'm afraid not, Helen, for our party has every
confidence in its leader and this paper which champions
his cause."
" Then here's your old friend, the Christian Guar-
dian, grandmother," Helen continued. " I wonder which
you read the more, this weekly journal or your Bible?"
" It wouldn't hurt you, Helen, if you read that excel-
lent paper a good deal more than you do, instead of so
many love stories," Mrs. Clinton replied, with a kindly
smile.
"5
THE OLD LOYALIST
" There now, Miss Clinton, take that timely rebuke
and endeavor to mend your ways," interposed Horace,
with a loud laugh, " for you know, ' it's never too late to
mend.' "
" Helen's grandmother apparently is not aware of
the many moments her grandchild employs in her room
reading religious books," remarked Gertrude. " I wish
I were as careful as Helen in my choice of reading mat-
ter."
" That's right, Gertie, always to my rescue, in time
of need," Helen cried, exultantly, as she brought forth
a letter, and handed it to Gertrude, saying : " This letter
is from Gertie's young man in Toronto, I presume, and
of course we shall all be very much interested in know-
ing what he has to say."
" Indeed !" replied Gertrude, quickly opening the letter
and reading part of the contents aloud :
. . . .* " ' Owing to Nurse Nicholson having
contracted typhoid, I am sorry to inform you it will be
necessary for you to report for duty at the Toronto
General Hospital two weeks earlier than our arrange-
ment, or one week from this date.
1 Yours very truly,
' M. R. Jones,
' Superintendent/ "
Gertrude folded the letter and put it away with the
remark, " Now, what do you think of that, friends?"
" Shure, and I think it's dreadful. Miss Westwood,"
cried Mrs. Sullivan, "and I wouldn't budge wan ainch
for all the hospital bosses put together. Faith, what
matters it if a few poor crathurs do die and go to hiven,
while you're to hum on your holidays. Ther'll be plinty
126
A MORTGAGE ON THE HOMESTEAD
more to nurse whin yez gits back. Don't budge, Gertie,
till yez gets riddy to lave your home and friends."
" I wish you wouldn't go back at all, Gertie, my
Yankee girl," Squire Clinton remarked, in a low, kindly
voice; "but just stay at home the rest of the year and
cure me of this rheumatism, which will not let go its
hold."
" In that case, Squire Clinton," said Horace, with
a grin, " I would be glad to become a patient as well,
as my trouble, too, is becoming chronic, and I feel some-
thing radical must be done."
"And what's your complaint, Mr. Sullivan?" asked
Gertrude.
" To be frank, Miss Westwood, I have to confess
it's heart trouble, and the symptoms have become more
alarming the past few days."
" Then I fear a cross old maid would make a poor
physician for such a deep-rooted disease," replied. Ger-
trude, with some asperity, as she quickly discerned the
literal meaning of Horace's remark.
" Sthop that, now, Horace, you bold spalpeen," Mrs.
Sullivan answered, with a loud laugh at what she re-
garded an extremely witty remark by her son. " Don't
be proposin' to your swaitheart roight here forninst us
all. I niver saw such a bold crathure in all me born
days."
Everybody now joined in a hearty laugh at Mrs. Sul-
livan's good-natured remark, which apparently was in-
tended to assist and to encourage her son in his advances.
" And here's a letter for you, grandmother," con-
tinued Helen, " addressed in a gentleman's handwriting.
I think it must be from Rev. Charles Picton, our pastor,
on some special ' Ladies' Aid' business, and doubtless
of great importance."
127
THE OLD LOYALIST
"Hark! Listen, all, while I read," rejoined Mrs.
Clinton, adjusting her glasses and holding up an invi-
tation card:
" Mrs. J. Sullivan and her son Horace request the
pleasure of the company of Mr. and Mrs. G. Clinton,
Miss Clinton and Miss Westwood to a birthday lawn
party, at their home, on Tuesday evening."
"Why, what's going to happen, Mrs. Sullivan?"
quickly demanded Squire Clinton, looking up from his
paper. " It begins to look very suspicious when a
wealthy, blooming, Irish widow begins giving birthday
parties."
" Och ! Squire Clinton !" replied Mrs. Sullivan, " Yez
know well enough, ye auld flatterer, that it be's Horace's
birthday pairty and not moine yez are invoited to. If
yez could see the photygrafs of a sartin pritty gairl yez
all know, that Horace has shticking in his dresser, and
if yez could hear him talkin' in his slape and callin' her
by name, yez could aisly guess why my lovesick spalpeen
is makin' a birthday pairty an' invoitin' iverybody from
Dan to Beershaba."
" There, there !" admonished Horace, with a reprov-
ing gesture. " You must not be telling tales out of
school, mother. Those matters are strictly private be-
tween you and me. However, I trust the young ladies
will find it convenient to honor us with their presence,
as well as the Squire and Mrs. Clinton."
" We shall certainly all endeavor to go, Mrs. Sulli-
van," Helen replied, greatly amused at the widow's joke
on her son and at Gertrude's evident embarrassment.
" I trust the weather may be fine, Mrs. Sullivan,"
Gertrude quietly remarked, " and that your party may
be a great success."
The mail matter was now about exhausted.
128
A MORTGAGE ON THE HOMESTEAD
" Here is another letter to me, from my dear brother
Curtis, which I have kept until the last, knowing it to be
the most important of all, and one in which you will all
be interested," said Helen, as she opened the envelope
with a small pen-knife, took out the missive, and began
to read :
" C. P. R. Engineer's Camp,
" North Shore, Lake Superior.
" Dear Sister Helen, Your last letter has just
reached me and I am glad indeed to hear you are all
well and seemingly getting along nicely without me.
I little thought when leaving home a year and a half ago
to join Walter's survey party that I would be away so
long.
" My only ambition then was to earn a few dollars
through the winter months as axeman, when times are
pretty dull at home and when farmers' sons, as a rule,
spend more than they make. But before the winter
passed I had gone up all the steps on a survey party to
rodman.
" First, I was axeman, and you know that muscular
arm of mine stood me in good stead when I came to
compete with the stalwart lumberjacks of the Ottawa
River country. I held my own pretty well and soon
gave them to understand that muscle can be developed
on the Bay of Quinte as well as in the backwoods of
Canada.
" Then I became in succession, stakeman, chainman.
picketman, rodman and finally leveller. I thought I
had reached the summit and was well pleased with my
position, with a salary of one hundred dollars a month.
But Walter managed, although extremely busy to give
me some lessons each night on the methods for adjusting
9 129
THE OLD LOYALIST
and using the transit, the keeping of field notes, the
plotting of notes on paper, etc., until the knowledge of
these things began to penetrate my thick skull thanks
to the good mathematical training I obtained in the high
school.
" Well, Helen dear, you never know what is going
to happen next on a survey party.
" Chambers, the transit man an engineer of good
experience got an opportunity recently to take charge
of a survey party, thus leaving a vacancy with us, and
to my surprise Walter pitchforked me into the posi-
tion, although as green as grass, with an advance in
salary and more responsibility. That was about a
month ago and Walter tells me he has had no reason
as yet to regret the step he took.
" I feel quite at home in the work now and with
Walter's supervision and generous aid hope to be able
to do satisfactory work.
" We have long tramps through rough country
and often get into camp tired, wet and footsore. But
a change of clothing, a good dinner and a sleep that
knows no waking until the cook's gong sounds in the
morning, makes one feel refreshed and ready for the
fray once more.
" By the way, our cook is a gem, and bakes bread
and buns nearly as good as grandmother, and that you
know, is saying a good deal, for hers we always con-
sidered the very best in the world.
" When have you heard from Gertie ? She should
be home soon for her vacation, and I should be de-
lighted to be there and spend a few weeks with the dear
girl and yourself.
" I am beginning to believe more and more in the
old saying, ' Absence makes the heart grow fender. 4
130
A MORTGAGE ON THE HOMESTEAD
I wonder if Gertie has forgotten a little scene some
years ago under the mistletoe on a certain Christmas
eve ? That event shall always remain fresh in my mem-
ory, made more real by the pretty little story grand-
mother told us.
" I hope grandmother and grandfather may keep
well and not allow the mortgage on the homestead to
bother them, for although it is a large amount, owing
to their generosity in educating us children and to
grandfather's poor health since the Fenian Raid
troubles when that first mortgage was put on the
place still, I think Walter and I shall be able to re-
duce it considerably this year and gradually to wipe it
off.
" It would certainly be an awful calamity to have
that old United Empire Loyalist homestead pass into
the hands of strangers, and you may rest assured we
shall not suffer it to do so if it can possibly be avoided.
" Now a word or two about Walter before closing.
It will be a comfort to you all to know that he has
already won the reputation of being one of the best
locating engineers that ever graduated from McGill.
When the chief engineer was passing through not long
ago, I overheard him say to his secretary that Walter
was doing excellent work and that he had ' a good eye
for country,' whatever he meant by that.
" Walter gets on well with the men, who work for
him like Trojans, and without any bluster or harshness
accomplishes more than some taskmakers and slave-
drivers. He is kind and generous to a fault, and will
do anything within his power to assist any one of his
party.
" We have all sorts of games and matches and com-
petitions in camp in the evening, and Walter is always
131
THE OLD LOYALIST
ready to take part. He will not permit any swearing
or obscene language or vile stories in the camp; and it
is remarkable how some of the worst old toughs of a
few months ago will now pull one another up short
on the least approach to vulgarity or coarseness or rude
ness.
" The boys are fond of singing and we occasionally
make the welkin ring with song. Of course, we have
no church service, but every Sunday night Walter reads
a Psalm grandfather's good example, you know and
we repeat the Lord's Prayer in concert, and so you will
understand we are not heathen entirely.
"With kind regards to all,
" Your loving brother,
" Curtis."
As Helen finished reading, the Squire and Mrs.
Clinton wiped away some gathering tears, and intense
silence prevailed for a few minutes.
" I was not aware before," said Horace. " that
there was a mortgage against your fa mi, Squire Clinton
I hope it is not very large, and that it is not giving
you any trouble."
" Yes, unfortunately," replied the Squire, with a
sigh. "We do not care to make it public, but I fear
it will take the boys many years to wipe it off. My
health has not been the best, you know, in recent years,
and the farm has not been producing what it should
I wish I were as good a man to-day as I was twenty
years ago and I would soon wipe it off."
" I have some money to spare, Squire Clinton, and
should be glad to assist you, if you care to make use
of it, to raise the mortgage."
" Thank you, Horace, for your kind offer ; you
132
A MORTGAGE ON THE HOMESTEAD
might purchase and consolidate the mortgages, but "
and the Squire hesitated.
" Certainly, Squire Clinton, I will be glad to do so.
I have considerable money lying idle and wish you had
spoken to me about it before."
" No, thank you, Horace come to think that
would not do," the Squire replied, slowly. He was re-
flecting over the past and recalling the attitude of the
Sullivan family toward his own. A feeling of distrust
had been aroused in his mind, and he was sorry Horace
had learned about the mortgages.
" We shall let the matter stand as it is, Horace,
and Curtis and Walter will assist me out of my finan-
cial difficulties in a few years at the most. I am very
grateful, however, for your kind offer.
"All right. Just as you please, Squire Clinton,"
Horace replied, with evident disappointment. " Any
time you need any financial assistance, Squire, don't
hesitate for a moment to let me know, as I will be
happy to accommodate you if at all possible. I don't
like mortgages myself, for they usually seem to grow
larger rather than smaller."
" Now girls," suggested Mrs. Clinton, glad of an
opportunity- to change the subject " since you have
finished reading your letters and the men have got
through talking money matters, which always gives me
a fit of the blues, you had better favor us with some
music. I'm sure Mrs. Sullivan and Horace will be glad
to hear you sing."
" Shure, Mrs. Clinton," the former replied, " and
1 1 was jist wonderin' meself if thim swate warblers of
yourn wouldn't be afther favorin' us wid some of thim
illigant songs of theirn, that always makes me feel happy
and continted."
i33
THE OLD LOYALIST
Helen and Gertrude could not resist the invitation
to sing after so flattering a compliment from Mrs.
Sullivan, and going into the parlor, Helen sat down
to the piano, in the gloaming, and after playing a few
chords began singing a familiar song in a clear, sweet
soprano voice. Gertrude joined her with a deep, rich
contralto. The two voices sweetly blended and the
song filled the house and floated out through open
windows and doors, upon the balmy evening air.
Several songs were sung, the volume of music in-
creasing as the singers became more and more ani-
mated, until quite a group of people, driving and walk-
ing, had gathered before the gate.
As the first notes were wafted down to the bay
shore, a lonely old man seated before the door of his
log cabin immediately arose, with cane in hand, and
tottered along as fast as his stiff legs would" carry him
up the pathway leading to the Clinton home. Enter-
ing the gate, he advanced slowly, and quietly took a
seat on a step of the verandah, without uttering a
word, where with bowed head he listened intently to
the music within.
When the girls ended their songs and came out on
the verandah arm in arm and noticed the old man
sitting there as though asleep, Helen remarked gaily:
" Why, Quinte, had we known you were there we woulc
have sung your favorite song, ' Old Black Joe.' "
" Wish yo' would, Miss Helen, and Miss Gertie,
answered the old man turning towards them, " cause
yo' know ol' black Joe is ol' Quinte Brown, an' it won't
be long now, I spec's, fo' dem Angel voices will call
de ol' man to his long rest. Makes Quinte feel like
gwine horn' when yo' sings dat song. Yes, honey,
please sing ' Ol' Black Joe.' "
i34
A MORTGAGE ON THE HOMESTEAD
The familiar old negro melody was sung softly
and sweetly by the girls, while Quinte stood with bowed
head and joined in the refrain. Soon the singing was
concluded, and then, bidding every one good night,
Quinte shuffled away down the path again to his cabin,
repeating the words over and over:
" I'm comin', I'm comin', for my head am bending low,
I hear dem angel voices callin' ol' black Joe."
The Sullivans soon left for home, but before going
Horace managed to have a few words in private with
Gertrude at the end of the verandah.
" Don't, for the world, allow anything to inter-
fere with your attendance at our party, Miss West-
wood," he said, eagerly, " and I'll promise you a sur-
prise that night that will bring happiness, I trust, not
only to yourself but to the whole Clinton family."
" Such a promise, Mr. Sullivan, is too important
to ignore, and if nothing serious intervenes, you may
rest assured I will be present."
"Thank you, Miss Westwood; your presence on that
occasion will afford me more pleasure that I can express.
Good night."
After they were gone Gertrude Westwood said to
Helen Clinton, confidentially : "I really believe Horace
Sullivan intends doing something very generous with
your grandfather in regard to those mortgages on the
farm. He has promised me that on the night of the
party he will surprise us in such a way as to bring hap-
piness to the whole family. Nothing, I think, Helen
dear, could give me the pleasure I would experience in
seeing that heavy financial burden removed from the
shoulders of your dear grandfather, who has been so
kind to me."
i35
CHAPTER X.
THE CHARMS OF A MOUNTAIN LAKE.
Rev. Charles Picton called at the Clintons the
following afternoon and gave the family a general
invitation for a sail in his yacht the next morning.
" Be sure and bring them all, Miss Clinton tell the
Squire to fetch his trolling line and remember nine
o'clock sharp is the hour."
" I am delighted with the idea, Mr. Picton," Helen
answered, " and shall endeavor to have them all there
on time. I trust you may be inspired, during the out-
ing, with a text from which you will preach us an excel-
lent sermon next Sunday."
" Does that imply that my sermons are not always
excellent, Miss Clinton?" the minister asked, somewhat
gravely.
" No, indeed. That one last Sunday, for instance,
about 'Jonah and the whale/ grandmother said was a
marvel of its kind. Perhaps that sermon was what in-
spired you to go fishing this week, Mr. Picton."
"I'm surprised! Nay, more! I'm amazed, Miss
Clinton, that my faithful organist and choir-leader
should poke fun at her pastor's poor preaching in that
unblushing manner," the minister replied, with a droll
expression, indicating that he enjoyed thoroughly
Helen's little witticism.
" Pardon me, Mr. Picton, I was delighted with and
much benefitted by that excellent sermon, as I have been
136
THE CHARMS OF A MOUNTAIN LAKE
by all your very practical discourses since you became
our pastor."
" Perhaps you may be able, Helen, to suggest an
appropriate theme on the morrow for next Sunday's
sermon."
" I fear I have poor ability in that direction, Mr.
Picton, but I will gladly make an effort if something
worthy presents itself."
Then the minister lifted his hat and drove rapidly
down the road and away on his pastoral work, while
Helen, cheerfully humming a song, returned to her
household duties.
Mrs. Clinton's prophecy, many years before, that
some day the mischievous Quaker lad, Charlie Picton,
would make a Methodist minister, had been verified.
A change came over the boy as he grew older, and,
leaving the farm, he studied for and entered the min-
istry from a conscientious sense of duty. In doing so
he followed the faith of his mother rather than that
of his father, for the Pictons had been Quakers back
for many generations, having come into the country
with the first settlers from Pennsylvania.
After graduating 'from Victoria College, Charles
was placed on a mission in the outskirts of the
Northern settlements, where he did excellent work.
His backwoods life brought him in close contact and
sympathy with the many poor people to whom he minis-
tered, and excellent results followed from his faithful
efforts.
The Conference soon recognized in him certain
qualities calculated to make him a useful man on the
older circuits, and so in the course of time he was
assigned to this Bay of Quinte district.
Great was the surprise when it was announced that
i37
THE OLD LOYALIST
Charlie Picton had been appointed by the Conference
to his native community.
"Lord save us. What will happen next?" ex-
claimed Mrs. Stacey, when she heard the news. " Has
the Millennium indeed come?"
" For the love of mercy!" cried Mrs. Grant, another
dear old mother in Israel, on learning of the appoint-
ment. " Surely the Conference has gone stark crazy,
to send that wild scapegrace of a Quaker boy, Charlie
Picton, to preach among the blue-blooded Loyalists of
Adolphustown."
The boy's pranks and jests were still well remem-
bered all through the community, and the people were
very skeptical about his ability as a preacher and pastor.
Many friendly visits were made in those days, in
which the good old women took their knitting and
stayed all day discussing the merits of the new coming
minister. There were, consequently, many misgivings
when the service began on that first Sunday morning
of his pastorate in the old white church in the con-
cession, but they were all dissipated before he finished
the sermon. The people began to realize that the
frivolous, uncouth Quaker lad had been transformed into
an able interpreter and eloquent expounder of the deep
things of the Spiritual Kingdom.
A year had since passed, and now criticisms had
ceased, and Charlie Picton's congregation was in full
accord and sympathy with him in the important work
he was faithfully endeavoring to perform.
He was fond of many sports, and in the various
athletic games in which the young men engaged, the
minister usually participated with all the vigor he
possessed, and frequently bore off the championship.
But boating was hie particular hobby. Boarding at his
138
THE CHARMS OF A MOUNTAIN LAKE
own home on the bay, with no family cares, he spent
his holidays, for the most part, on his fine sailing yacht,
haunting the bars and coves and many shady nooks
with which this delightful sheet of water abounds.
" How generous of Charlie to include the whole
family," said Helen to Gertrude, after telling her about
the boating invitation for the following day.
" Very generous, indeed. But of course we can
readily understand who inspires all this generosity,"
Gertie replied, with a smile and knowing look.
"Who, pray?"
" Why his organist and choir-leader, to be sure."
" Now, Gertie," Helen replied, with a gay laugh,
" you should not flatter me in that way or you may make
me vain. I was thinking, you know, that it must be
due to the presence in our family of one of the chief
nurses of the Toronto General Hospital."
" How ridiculous, Helen. There are none so blind
as those who will not see. Do you not know that the
whole congregation is beginning to whisper about the
minister's admiration for the organist? Of course he
is very discreet and exemplary, and all that, but are
you not aware, Helen, that Charlie cannot even hand
you the hymns in church without blushing like a school
girl? No wonder he is an old bachelor."
" Why, Gertie, I am really shocked at your state-
ments, and can assure you there is nothing in them
whatever. I fully expect to find Charlie giving you
all the attention to-morrow and baiting your hook for
bass, while I have to put those creepy worms on my
hook all alone the nasty things, the very thought of
which makes me shudder."
" Very well, we'll see, to-morrow. You must act
as umpire, Mrs. Clinton," Gertie answered, with assumed
gravity. 139
THE OLD LOYALIST
" I'm surprised, girls nay, more, ashamed to hear
you say such foolish things about our very excellent pas-
tor," Mrs. Clinton replied, gravely.
The next morning the Clinton family were at the
wharf in good time with well-filled baskets for the day's
outing. Promptly at the hour stipulated, Charlie Pic-
ton's yacht swept in on a gentle breeze, and picking
the family up, he slowly sailed away to the west in the
direction of his favorite bar, near Glen Island.
It was a grand morning, with just sufficient wind
astir to nicely fill the sails and to provoke a buoyancy
of spirits in all the passengers, and especially in the
Squire, who dearly loved a boat and a good day's fishing.
" Steady, now, Charlie, my boy, until I get my troll
out," said Squire Clinton, as soon as they were away
from the shore. " It seems to me there ought to be a
1 masco ' waiting for me along this stretch of water
this fine morning. Many a one I've caught here, and
some of them were whoppers, I can tell you."
" I wish you would compel my husband to be more
respectful, Mr. Picton," exclaimed Mrs. Clinton. " He
calls everyone in the neighborhood by his Christian
name and does not even make any distinction when ad-
dressing his pastor."
" Now listen to that, Charlie," the Squire replied,
with first a broad grin and then a jovial laugh. " Can
you wonder that I'm prematurely old, and bald-headed
and crippled with rheumatism, when I have such a
pernickety wife as that? You can't imagine what I've
had to endure all these years from that prim little
woman."
"But where is my trolling line, I say? Here it is
all right see it spin. When I go fishing I want to have
a good time and enjoy myself and not to practise
140
THE CHARMS OF A MOUNTAIN LAKE
etiquette. You can't teach an old dog new tricks, my
dear."
Mrs. Clinton looked a little serious at first at her
husband's brusque remarks; but, a moment later, she
joined heartily in the general laughter that convulsed
the young ladies and the minister.
" How now, Squire? Is your line all out?"
" Yes, all out, Charlie, and the spoon is working
fine."
" It would not take any longer, George, to say ' Mr.
Picton,' " suggested Mrs. Clinton, with a smile.
" Imagine me, wife dear, calling that boy anything
but ' Charlie,' when I don't suppose I ever called his
father anything but ' Daniel ' or his grandfather rest
his dear old soul, now in heaven anything but ' Joseph,'
in all the days of my life. What do you say, Charlie
Picton? I'll be governed by your ruling."
" Quite right, Squire Clinton," replied the minister,
who was seated at the stern, dressed in a light yachting
suit, with white boots, neglige shirt and soft felt hat,
holding the tiller in one hand and gracefully managing
the sail with the other ; " I greatly prefer being called
1 Charlie ' by my old friends and shall inflict a heavy
penalty on the one who calls me by any other name to-
day."
" Good for you, my boy. That sounds like the
genuine article," shouted the Squire, and he laughed
with great glee.
Gertrude sat on the cabin roof, with her back to the
sun, doing some fancy work, while Helen stood at the
mast, looking out over the rippling water and singing
snatches of a boating song.
After gliding along smoothly for some minutes, each
enjoying to the utmost the exhilarating influence of the
141
THE OLD LOYALIST
motion and the breeze, the Squire suddenly caught a
firm hold of his line, and shouted, " Whoa ! whoa !" at
the top of his voice. Something was on the hook. He
gave the line a turn round his hand and, bracing his feet,
held on firmly, shouting, " Whoa! whoa! Charlie, whoa!"
An immense fish, from four to five feet long, about fifty
yards away, darted to the surface and leaped high out of
the water with the spoon in his mouth.
" A fifty pound masco, as sure as you're born," ex-
claimed the Squire, excitedly. " Charlie, if you value
your reputation as a preacher and a sailor, handle your
boat with care, so that I can land that monster. I'd
rather lose the best cow on my place than that whale."
At the mention of the word " whale," Helen quickly
glanced at the minister, who was busy at the moment
in swinging the bow of the yacht up in the wind. He
caught her mischievous look, and called out loudly, with
a broad grin on his face : " I hope you'll lose it, Squire,
if it is a whale, for we could scarcely endure another one
after last Sunday, could we, Helen?"
" An occasional change of diet is strongly recom-
mended by the medical profession," Helen replied, with
a roguish smile.
The old farmer was an expert at the game of tiring
out a big fish before attempting a landing. Forward,
backward; up, with his nose out of trie water; down, to
the bottom, slowly but surely the fine big fellow, whom
all could occasionally see, was drawn closer and closer
to the yacht.
" What a beauty !" excitedly exclaimed Mrs. Clinton,
rising to her feet. " If you land that fish, George, I'll
buy you a fine, new hat, and take you 'to the Sullivan
party."
" Steady now, steady, Squire," said the minister, as
142
THE CHARMS OF A MOUNTAIN LAKE
he came forward and leaned far out over the yacht with
a gaff hook in his hand, ready to assist the old farmer
at the critical moment.
"There! Well done, Charlie!" shouted the Squire,
as the former struck the gaff into the fish's head, quickly
pulled it aboard the yacht, and sent it flying down
through the open door upon the cabin floor, amid general
rejoicing.
" Don't let mother forget that new hat, girls, or the
blooming Widow Sullivan's birthday party," remarked
Squire Clinton a few minutes later, with a hearty laugh,
as the yacht again swung into the breeze and headed
for a bar not very far distant, where they had frequently
fished before.
They soon reached the favored spot and, anchoring
in a convenient depth of water, got out their poles and
lines and bait and indulged in still-fishing until the noon
hour. They caught a fine string of black bass and had
a jolly time, each of the young ladies baiting her own
hook, without any of the special favors from Charlie
Picton which Gertrude had anticipated.
When the time for lunch arrived they weighed anchor
and sailed over to the south shore, under a high hill,
where the hungry party found an inviting shady nook
in which to spread their immaculate linen and place
thereon the many dainty eatables Mrs. Clinton had pro-
vided. All did ample justice to the excellent lunch
during the next hour, while engaged in pleasant chat
under the over-hanging branches.
After the dishes were washed and packed in the
basket, Charlie Picton challenged the party to ascend
to the lake on the mountain. Squire Clinton and his
good wife pleaded old age for an excuse, while Gertrude
declared that the fishing in the hot sun had given her a
i43
THE OLD LOYALIST
slight headache. Consequently, Charlie and Helen had
to set out alone and struggle up the steep incline. It
was no easy task, as many tourists have since experi-
enced. Helen gladly availed herself of Charlie's prof-
fered arm as the ascent became steep and wearisome.
They stopped occasionally, and looking back over
the beautiful prospect below, wiped away the perspira-
tion that freely flowed on this hot summer's afternoon.
Reaching the summit, they proceeded a few steps and
came to the well-shaded shore of a beautiful sequestered
lake, about five miles in circumference, with clear, tran-
quil waters, bordered by a rich foliage interspersed with
scattered, stately trees, whose reflections could be seen
on the picturesque lake.
" What a lovely scene," Helen remarked, as they
seated themselves upon the timber of a bulkhead, from
which the water flowed into the pipe leading down to
the grist mill and foundry on the shore of the bay. " I
wonder what caused this large lake to be formed so
high above the level of the lower waters?"
" Various causes are assigned for its formation," the
minister replied, with deliberation; " but I am not aware
that any geologist has, as yet, spoken with authority on
the subject. Some claim it is the crater of an extinct
volcano, and that there is a certain portion of the lake
which is unfathomable, through which depths the lake
is fed by fissures in the rock from lakes at a still higher
elevation away to the northeast.
" Another theory is that the lake is connected with
Lake Erie by a subterranean passage, and that, as the
surface of each lake is practically of the same elevation,
the water line here is maintained by the constant flow
from Lake Erie.
" Some farmers in the vicinity claim, however, that
144
THE CHARMS OF A MOUNTAIN LAKE
the lake is simply a natural depression, fed from some
large swamps nearby, and that its rise and fall is
governed entirely by local conditions, and that theory
probably is nearest to the actual facts of the case."
"Is there no outlet?"
" Have you not been down to the gorge between
the lake and the bay?" interrogated Charlie Picton.
" Surely you have?"
" Never. Can we get down without too much ex-
ertion?"
"Yes; if you have a clear eye and a steady nerve."
" You surely would not let me fall should eye and
nerve fail," replied Helen, with a laugh, as they slowly
started off to go down into the deep chasm.
Before descending they viewed a little stream cross-
ing a narrow limestone ridge between the lake and the
gorge, which Charlie pointed out to be the only outlet
of the lake a small channel through which the water
for many centuries had been gently flowing and washing
away the clay and gravel embankment to the bay below.
In the descent of the narrow, winding, rugged path-
way which led to the bottom of the gorge, Charlie went
before or beside Helen, assisting her with one hand,
and then, in particularly dangerous places, steadying
her with the other arm about her waist. His face came
so near Helen's at times that their cheeks almost brushed
together. He found it somewhat difficult, on such
occasions, to keep up a continuous conversation respect-
ing the powerful forces of nature at work in the world,
transforming its surface, lowering its hills and elevating
its valleys; or the peculiar nature of certain plants and
shrubs that delighted in a damp, clouded existence in
crannies and deep ravines where the sun's rays could
scarcely penetrate.
10 I45
THE OLD LOYALIST
Charlie managed fairly well, however, and they
reached the bottom of the chasm without any accident.
Here, for a considerable time, they enjoyed the cooling
spray from the little waterfall, examined the rocks and
deep recesses cut into the clay banks, and speculated as
to the time nature had been occupied in the performance
of the extensive excavations that had been made on the
mountain's side.
At length they ascended to the surface, with feel-
ings of thankfulness that the sun was still shining, and
that they were not compelled to continually abide in
caverns, however enjoyable it may be to occasionally
visit them.
They retraced their steps to a point near the front
of the mountain from which they could obtain a magni-
ficent view of the Bay of Quinte with its branches, and
the lovely panorama spread out before them. They
stopped, and stood there, arm in arm, delighted and in-
spired by the beautiful prospect surrounding them.
" Was there ever a more lovely scene than that ?
What a landscape for a master painter's brush!" ex-
claimed Helen, in an ecstasy of joy, as she extended her
hand and slowly swung it through a semicircle.
" Look yonder, Mr. Picton Charlie, I mean to
that scene in front, where the green shores of the bay
converge in dim perspective until they almost meet at
that huge smokestack, with its dense cloud of smoke,
in yonder lumbering town ten miles away. Glance
there to our right and see those several arms of our
charming Quinte projecting far into the land, and giving
our native township the appearance of a man's hand,
with five fingers extended.
"Behold that pretty little shaded island in front, and
the majestic sweep of the bay as it turns its course to
146
THE CHARMS OF A MOUNTAIN LAKE
the east, and flows away to join the noble Lake Ontario.
" Then, look here to the west " and Helen, stand-
ing on tiptoe, pointed in the direction indicated " saw
you ever bolder outline than of that high shore of Prince
Edward, or more varied foliage than decks the hill-
sides beyond, or the mountain ridge that fringes the
shore westerly, from where we stand? Now, turn back
once more and observe in our rear the placid bosom
of that lovely lake, nestling in the lap of this mountain,
and tell me, Minister Charlie, if there you cannot find
one of the most glorious inspirations that Mother Earth
affords for your next Sunday's sermon?"
" True, Helen, true," the minister replied, with ani-
mation. " This magnificent sight certainly should be a
wonderful inspiration. I've stood on the palisades of the
noble Hudson, and admired its charming scenery. I've
climbed to the summit of Mount Royal, and looked over
our great metropolis at its feet, with the St. Lawrence
River gliding past, and the distant Vermont ranges on
the southerly horizon. I've penetrated several of the
sombre passes of the mighty Rockies on various lines
of railway. I've admired the solemn grandeur of Mount
Rainier, Baker, Shasta and Hood. I've gazed long upon
that wonderfully sublime scene, Niagara Falls. I have
observed these and many other sights that have given me
more or less delight, but nothing I have ever witnessed,
Helen, has afforded me the pleasure and satisfaction I
now derive from beholding the lovely scene you have
just pointed out to me within sight of our own rural
peaceful homes."
"Well done, Charlie," rapturously exclaimed Helen,
as he ceased speaking. Then she began humming softly,
" 'Mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam,
Be it ever so humble, there's no place like home."
M7
THE OLD LOYALIST
After the delightful strain was ended, Charlie Picton
resumed, " Those words inspire me with still another
thought, far transcending that of this beautiful lands-
cape. Can you imagine what it is, Helen?"
" No, I have not the faintest idea. What could be
more sublime?"
"It is the thought of home, sweet home, with you,
Helen, dear, as my wife, to make that home the dearest
in all this great wide world."
" Charlie Mr. Picton I'm deeply pained to hear
you say that."
" Do not draw back, Helen, and look at me with
such amazement. Have you had no suspicion of my
deep love for you, and has not your own heart responded
to this love in some degree during all these years we
have known each other?"
"No, Mr. Picton," Helen slowly replied, in a few
moments, after recovering from her surprise. " I've
had no suspicion of that nature, nor has there been any
response whatever on my part. While I hold you in
the highest esteem as a lifelong, true, personal friend,
and latterly as my pastor, there has been nothing in my
heart in accord with the love you have confessed nor,
indeed, can there ever be."
" Do not say that, Helen, and destroy all my future
happiness in this world. I do not find fault because you
do not love me now. I'm older than you, and am your
pastor as well possibly both of these facts have weighed
against me. But perhaps at some time in the future
you may learn to love me. Let me beg of you not to
dash all my hopes to the ground by saying that you can
never be my wife. I shall be content to patiently wait
if you will give me but the slightest hope."
They looked into each other's eyes for a few
148
THE CHARMS OF A MOUNTAIN LAKE
moments, and then Helen spoke : " Let me be perfectly
truthful, Mr. Picton " the voice and look indicated
that it was costing her a deep struggle to make the con-
fession. " It would be unfair to you and unjust to my-
self were I not to explain why your request can never
be fulfilled. I shall tell you in a word, and then I feel
that your high sense of honor will compel you to pre-
serve the secret and forbid you asking of me any further
explanations.
" There is one whom I love, and to whom I feel I am
bound by a bond that death only can sever, although
strange as it may appear to you no word touching
directly on the subject has ever been spoken between
us, nor have I ever before breathed a word concerning
the matter to any living soul."
Charlie Picton could not understand how this could
be, as he had never heard a word of Helen's affections
being centred elsewhere. But he now felt fully con-
vinced she had told him the truth and that His fate was
forever sealed.
He took a few paces, short and quick as though
angry or desperate and then stopped abruptly. Turn-
ing back, he took Helen's hand and said :
" I believe you, Helen, and I am now prepared to
relinquish all hope of making you my wife, difficult as
the task may be, since you feel you belong to another.
Trust me to maintain your secret inviolable and to ask
no questions in reference to the object of your love.
Pardon me for my blunder, which, God knows, was
made in entire ignorance of the true facts of the case.
I trust sincerely that the unknown one may prove
worthy of your love, whoever he may be, and that your
life may be filled with joy and great happiness. We
shall endeavor to forget this hour's experience."
149
THE OLD LOYALIST
Descending the hill and approaching the yacht they
found the rest of their company stretched out in the cool
shade, enjoying a peaceful, refreshing sleep.
Soon all were aboard the craft ready for the return
trip. They pushed out from shore and after a few
little puffs of a breeze which carried them into the
middle of the bay, they lay becalmed. There was not
a breath of air and the deep, blue water was like a sea
of glass. They lay there for some time chatting, in a
listless way, about various matters, when the Squire
suddenly sprang to his feet and shouted : " Look out
for a squall, Charlie! Lower your sail! Quick, my
boy!"
The minister was instantly aroused and caught hold
of the rudder in order to throw the bow up into the
wind, but it was too late. One of those sudden squalls,
like miniature whirlwinds, that commonly occur on the
bay in very warm weather, had struck them broadside,
capsized the yacht and in a few moments all were
struggling in the water.
No sooner did the owner of the yacht come to the
surface and grasp hold than he fully realized his re-
sponsibility for the lives of these people. He was strong
and, fortunately, was a good swimmer. Striking out
boldly he first encountered Mrs. Clinton, whom he
quickly raised and pushed up to a place of safety on the
upturned craft.
" All right, Charlie. I can hold on here," cried out
Squire Clinton a moment later, from the other side of
the craft. "Try and save the girls. Where are they?"
" Here is Gertie near you, Squire. Help her with
one hand there, that's- right. Up! Up! Catch on the
keel! Safe! Now hold on for dear life, Gertie, but
don't try to climb up."
150
THE CHARMS OF A MOUNTAIN LAKE
" Well done, Charlie, my brave boy," cried Mrs.
Clinton. " And now where is poor Helen ? Has the
dear girl gone down?"
Charlie swam around to the other side of the yacht
but could not catch a glimpse of her who to him was
the dearest one on earth. Her head was not above the
surface.
"Was Helen below in the cabin?" Charlie asked,
with alarm, and with a deathly pallor in his face.
" No, Helen was on deck, too," muttered Gertie,
choking and gasping for breath, with her head just
above the water.
The minister swam desperately round the yacht
again, and this time found Helen entangled in the ropes
under the sail and completely submerged. It was only
a moment's task to pull back the sail, dive down and
loosen her feet and bring her limp form to the side of
the yacht, which he grasped with one hand.
" Here, Squire, catch hold of her arm ; take her
hand, Mrs. Clinton. There now, steady; steady!
steady."
Holding on with one hand, Charlie pushed heavily
with the other, and soon they had Helen lying on her
stomach across the bottom of the craft. By dint of
rubbing and moving her body as much as the awkward
position would allow, they soon saw Helen begin to
gasp and show signs of recovery.
"How is it, Charlie?" called out the anxious grand-
father, with a trembling voice.
" All right, Squire all safe thank God. Hold
fast, and I'll help you up in a few minutes."
He now managed to get Helen's head around so that
it lay in her grandmother's lap. As soon as she was
able to hold on and maintain her position, Charlie slipped
151
THE OLD LOYALIST
round and hoisted Gertrude up to a position on the
keel where she could cling fast with less exertion.
" Hurrah ! Some one has seen us from shore and
is coming in a boat," called out Charlie Picton a few
moments later, with a joyous cheer. " Let us all hold
on steadily now, and keep perfectly quiet, and we shall
be rescued in a few minutes. How fortunate they saw
us. Thank God! Thank God!"
It was not long until Daniel Picton, the minister's
father, pulled alongside in his large skiff and carried
the whole party safely to shore. The women were soon
led and carried into Charlie Picton's home and made
warm and comfortable by his gentle mother. Then the
men returned and towed the yacht to a landing, not
forgetting to pick up the Squire's huge maskalonge,
which they found floating in the water in the vicinity
of the spot where the craft had capsized.
152
CHAPTER XL
AN UNEXPECTED SERMON.
There was an unusually large attendance at church
the Sunday following the boating accident. The news
of the latter spread like wildfire throughout the com-
munity, and a reporter for The Dominion, who happened
to be rusticating at Glen Island at the time, wired his
paper a long account of the affair. The article appeared
the following day with large headlines, entitled, " Heroic
Rescue by a Minister," and was widely read throughout
the whole settlement.
It was a beautiful Sabbath morning, and before the
hour of ten o'clock conveyances of all kinds were in
motion down the concession lines and cross roads lead-
ing to the Methodist church in the central part of the
community.
Reapers, mowers, and horse-rakes were standing
idly in the large fields of ripened barley and wheat flank-
ing the roads on all sides. Cattle, horses and sheep
were grazing in the pasture fields, or comfortably lying
under large beach and maple shade trees; crows were
flying hither and thither, loudly calling to one another;
swallows were flitting about the outer buildings, or
darting through openings to and from their nests; while
an occasional meadow-lark lustily sang its sweetest
notes of praise from the hay-field or the summit of the
highest fence-stake along the turnpike road.
When Rev. Charles Picton drove up to his church
iS3
THE OLD LOYALIST
he was greatly surprised to find the sheds and fences
on either side of the road for a long distance filled with
teams. The church was full to over-flowing, and groups
of men were standing outside in the shade talking about
the amount of grain they had cut, the probable yield
per acre, and as a matter of course, the weather proba-
bilities for the following day.
Jumping lightly from his buggy, the minister made
his horse fast beneath his favorite shade-tree and quickly
walking to the church, encountered several friends, with
whom he shook hands, and then passed inside and
ascended the high box pulpit at the far end of the
church. He looked over the unusually large throng of
people that crowded the seats and aisles and open win-
dows and doors, and then began to realize that he was
an object of curiosity, that many people were there
to see the hero of the yachting accident rather than to
hear the word of God.
After studying the faces of the people for some time,
the pastor said to himself: What can I say to awaken
and arouse this large audience? Not that dry, theo-
logical discourse in my pocket. That would put half
of them to sleep on this hot summer's day. Have I
not some fresh message that will appeal to these Loyalist
descendants, many of whom are careless and indifferent
about religious matters and are here this morning out
of idle curiosity? Their forefathers were different, for
they regularly attended divine service whenever the
opportunity presented itself. Ah, there is a subject the
religious life of our United Empire Loyalist ancestors
in this locality.
While reasoning thus this new thought took entire
possession of the minister and he quickly decided to act
upon it. Leaving the pulpit he walked down the aisle
*54
AN UNEXPECTED SERMON
and whispered something - in the ear of a decrepit old
man, seated in Squire Clinton's pew. It was Quinte
Brown, who, with a look of surprise, slowly arose, and
taking him by the arm, the pastor led him up the aisle,
then up several steps, and assisted him to a seat in the
pulpit beside him.
" For the love of mercy !" Mrs. Grant whispered to
her husband, " has the Quaker boy gone clean crazy ?"
Mrs. Stacey, too, was there, and spoke so loudly that
the people in the vicinity could hear her withering
remark : " Lord save us ! What will happen next ? A
nigger in the pulpit ! What are we Loyalist descendants
coming to, anyway?"
A young lad standing on a block and peering through
one of the windows, was heard to say : " Colo'ed gen'-
man f'om ol' Vi'gina is gwine to preach."
" Naw, go along!" said another, from the next win-
dow ; " can't you see special solo to-day by Clinton's
happy coon?"
The service began with the old, familiar hymn :
" O God our help in ages past,
Our hope for years to come,
Our shelter from the stormy blast,
And our eternal home,"
in which all heartily joined. Helen Clinton, as usual,
played the organ, and the choir was assisted by Gertrude
Westwood. The singing was followed by a brief, but
earnest, prayer by the pastor, the burden of which was
that the divine blessing might rest upon the descendants
of the devoted men and women who had cleared the
farms and rendered possible the raising of the abundant
fields of grain, denoting great prosperity all over the
community. He concluded with a fervent appeal that
i55
THE OLD LOYALIST
God's blessing might particularly rest upon all present
at that service.
The choir rendered an appropriate anthem in which
Gertrude sang a beautiful contralto solo that greatly de-
lighted the people. The Psalm beginning, " The Lord
is my shepherd, I shall not want," was repeated in con-
cert, and " Duke Street," that grandest of the old-time
tunes, was sung with such a volume that it made the
old frame church fairly tremble, as it has on many
occasions the whole world round.
Then the pastor and Quinte Brown arose, and the
people were filled with great wonder to know what part
the well-known negro servant was about to take in the
service.
The pastor began his address in a loud, clear and
earnest voice, and there was rapt attention. Part of
his discourse was as follows:
" You are assembled here this Sabbath morning in
larger numbers than usual, my friends, from different
motives. Many of you are here from a sense of duty,
esteeming it a great privilege to assemble yourselves
together on the Sabbath day to praise and worship God
as your fathers and mothers did in the years gone by,
which exercise always strengthened their faith and made
them better men and women.
" Others are here, doubtless, owing to some alarm
over the fact that a boating accident occurred a few
days ago, in which a family, whom you all know and
respect, was concerned. I am sure you are all devoutly
thankful that no lives were lost. As you are aware, I
had a part in saving some precious lives that day. I
desire you, however, to speedily dismiss the thought,
expressed by some of my friends, that there was any-
thing out of the ordinary in my action. I simplv did
' 156
AN UNEXPECTED SERMON
what anyone of you men would have done under similar
circumstances.
" We each have a duty to do in times of danger to
our fellowmen, and we instinctively lend the helping
hand or give the warning cry, or rudely thrust our best
friends, if possible, into a place of safety when disaster
is imminent.
" You doubtless are asking yourselves the question
at this moment why I have brought my old friend,
Quinte Brown, into the pulpit this morning. Let me
explain, if you please, in a very few words.
" I have before me a sermon which has engaged my
best thought for many weeks. When I entered the pul-
pit this morning I fully intended preaching that sermon ;
but when I looked into your faces I somehow became
deeply impressed with the fact that the discourse I have
so carefully prepared, which may prove helpful to some
of you on some other occasion, is not the kind of
spiritual food you require at this particular time, and
under these special circumstances.
" I have been wondering how many of you present
are Christians, following in the tracks of your Loyalist
ancestors, with whom the religion of Jesus Christ was
the greatest essential in their lives of toil and privation,
while clearing the fertile farms you are cultivating to-
day. Instantly my mind reverted to the fact that here
amongst us lives one who lived in the days of our ances-
tors, nearly a century ago; mingled with them in their
hospitable homes in the wilderness, worshipped with
them, and buried their dead in the old cemetery ad-
joining his cabin home. Then I thought it would be in
keeping with the suggestion that so unexpectedly came
to my mind, were I to invite such an one to come into
this pulpit with me, realizing full well, as you also do,
157
THE OLD LOYALIST
that through all the intervening years Quinte Brown
has been a faithful, humble Christian, regularly attend-
ing divine service, reading yea, more literally, study-
ing his Bible, until he knows more of it by heart than
any of us, and, on many occasions, has brought consola-
tion and hope to our people by his prayers, his praises
in song and sympathetic words when kneeling beside
their death-beds. Had Quinte Brown the gift of speech
that you or I have, he could to-day tell you of William
Losee, the first Methodist missionary from the States,
who, in the early days of this settlement, travelled from
house to house carrying the Gospel message, and hold-
ing service in the kitchens of our ancestors, thus bring-
ing joy and gladness to those lonely people scattered
here and there in the clearings between dense forests,
over a wide extent of territory.
" He could tell you of the great revival of religion
which at that period spread over this community, owing
to Losee's efforts, resulting in the salvation of hundreds
of your forefathers, and of the erection in this locality
of the first Methodist church in Canada. He could tell
you that he had a hand in the building of that church
which still stands over yonder on the shore of Hay Bay,
deserted and decayed a lonely memorial of the good
men and pious women who once worshipped there.
Yea, more, he could tell that he assisted in the construc-
tion of those seats in which you are now sitting, the
altar in front of you, and the pulpit in which he now
stands all brought over from the old church when this
one, a score of years ago, was built by you, or your
fathers and mothers, to take the former's place.
" He could tell you, moreover, all the particulars of
that thrilling drowning accident on Hay Bay, near the
old church, on that most eventful Sunday morning,
158
AN UNEXPECTED SERMON
whe*n nearly a score of our ancestors were upset in the
act of coming over the bay to quarterly-meeting and
many precious lives were lost. He could tell you of the
good old Quaker settlement of this community, and of
the erection of their first chapel, still standing on the
shore of Hay Bay, in which I am glad to know my fore-
fathers worshipped and learned those precious scriptural
truths which fitted them to become faithful servants of
the God of all nations.
" We are proud of our ancestors, and of the rude
churches they erected in which to worship God in those
years of poverty and arduous toil; but what are we
doing toward preserving those monuments they erected?
What have we done in the way of honoring the dust of
our departed dead?
" The old temples in which our fathers worshipped
are fast going to decay, and no hand is raised to pre-
serve those ancient landmarks, standing there on the
shore of the bay like faithful, weary sentinels, reminding
us of our duty to God. The graves of our forefathers
are being levelled with the ground and their tombstones
upset and broken, and there seems to be no one suffi-
ciently interested in their preservation to rebuild them
or to beautify the grounds.
" Again, the hundredth anniversary of the landing of
our forefathers on these shores will be reached next
June, and we do not hear a word about any preparation
being made to celebrate so important an event in our
history by some public demonstration that would draw
the Loyalist descendants together and cause them to
erect an appropriate monument worthy of so great an
event.
" Then, the religion of your forefathers is being sadly
neglected by some of you who never darken the door of
J 59
THE OLD LOYALIST
God's house except on some special occasion like this
to-day. Others who are regular attendants never re-
main for the class-meeting or prayer-service or the ' Sac-
rament of the Lord's Supper.'
" Do you, my dear friends, imagine for one moment
that God will always continue to prosper you as He has
been doing, if you continue to disregard the Divine
laws in the way many of you have been doing for a
large portion of your lives?
" Arouse ! awaken ! ye Loyalist descendants. God
is calling you for service. Heed the call. Do your
duty to Him and to your fellow-men, and the God of
your forefathers will bless you and make you a blessing
to this community and to the generations yet unborn."
All eyes had become riveted on the minister during
his earnest appeal, and as he concluded and resumed
his seat, some one in the audience began singing a
familiar hymn, in a low, but distinct voice:
" Come ye sinners, poor and needy,
Weak and wounded, sick and sore,
Jesus ready stands to save you,
Full of pity, love and power.
He is able,
He is willing; doubt no more."
The people quickly caught up the strain and sang
stanza after stanza. The volume of sound increased in
intensity as the singing proceeded, and whenever the
very familiar refrain,
" Turn to the Lord and seek salvation,
Sound the praise of His dear name,
Glory, honor, and salvation,
Christ, the Lord, has come to reign."
was reached, the large congregation with an earnestness
and fervor never before experienced, poured forth their
1 60
AN UNEXPECTED SERMON
penitence, yearnings, desires and tributes of praise to
the mighty God of their fathers.
Then the service was about to be closed by the pas-
tor in the usual formal way; but while the people sat
in breathless silence, it was observed that one of the
congregation with light steps moved quickly from his
seat nearby to the platform between the railing and the
pulpit, and began to speak with evident emotion:
" Neighbors and friends sons and daughters of our
Loyalist forefathers children privileged to dwell in
this delightful land of Canaan, after the wanderings of
our ancestors through the wilderness, harken!"
The people opened wide their eyes at the first sound
of a familiar voice, and beheld Squire Clinton, with
an open Bible in his hand, addressing them.
Instead of any one moving out and away, every one
quietly maintained his seat, and looked to the front of
the church with the keenest attention. The minister and
Quinte Brown descended from the pulpit and took seats
in the Squire's pew. The speaker then resumed :
" Listen, friends, while I read a few passages I have
marked in my Bible within the last few minutes. Re-
member, we are the people to whom God is speaking
loudly to-day by His servant, our pastor, and by the
words I shall now read from this Holy Book :
" ' I am the Lord thy God, which hath brought thee
out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of bondage.'
" ' Thou shalt have no other gods before me.'
" ' And the Lord thy God will bring thee into the
land which thy fathers possessed, and thou shalt possess
it; and He will do thee good and multiply thee above
thy fathers.'
" ' If thou shalt hearken unto the voice of the Lord
thy God, to keep His commandments and His statutes
" 161
THE OLD LOYALIST
which are written in this Book of the Law, and if thou
turn unto the Lord thy God with all thine heart and
with all thy soul.'
" ' The eternal God is our refuge, and underneath
are the everlasting arms, and He shall thrust out the
enemy from before thee : and shall say : Destroy them.'
" ' For we are strangers before Thee, and sojourners,
as were all our fathers; our days on the earth are as a
shadow and there is none abiding.'
" ' O Lord God of Abraham, Isaac and of Israel,
our fathers, keep this forever in the imagination of the
thoughts of the heart of thy people, and prepare their
hearts unto Thee.'
" ' Come unto Me, all ye that labor and are heavy
laden and I will give you rest.'
" ' Take my yoke upon you, and learn of Me ; for I
am meek and lowly in heart ; and ye shall find rest unto
your souls, for my yoke is easy and my burden is
light.' " '
Squire Clinton closed the book and after a few
minutes continued :
" My Loyalist friends, After what we have heard
to-day, I feel deeply ashamed that we have allowed the
graves of our noble forefathers to be trampled upon,
and in many instances obliterated, through our neglect
in protecting them from the cattle of our fields.
" This very day we shall start a movement not only
to repair the fences and fix up the graves of the old
cemetery, but to erect a noble monument therein, next
year, to commemorate the Centennial of the landing of
our forefathers in this place. I feel very grateful to
our pastor for reminding us of our duty in this respect,
and feel assured you are all in hearty accord with this
proposal
162*
AN UNEXPECTED SERMON
" After reading these wonderful promises of God
from this grand old Book, I feel greatly humiliated as I
recall how poor and unprofitable my service has been
throughout a long life. I have resolved this hour, how-
ever, to serve our Lord and Master with full purpose
of heart during the few remaining years He may
permit me to remain with my friends. Surely you have
come to the same conclusion, and may God help us all
to live better lives."
All were intent on listening to these words, which
in a most impressive manner fell from the lips of the
speaker, who now took his seat, visibly affected, with
tears coursing down his face.
Never had Squire Clinton so addressed his people
before. Never stood there, perhaps, a man among his
neighbors and friends more universally respected and
beloved than this plain, old Loyalist farmer, who had
always tried to give a square deal in business affairs,
to lend a helping hand to the needy, and to humbly serve
his God according to the light and knowledge he pos-
sessed.
But the uppermost thought in the minds of these
Loyalist descendants just then was that this man had
done more for them and the whole community than any
one else, in repelling the Fenian enemy that had lurked
on their southern borders, thus preserving the prosperity
that had been, and still was, in evidence on all sides.
Moreover, by the appropriate scripture quotations and
the honest confession of his own unworthiness, Squire
Clinton had revealed to each one present the necessity
of serving the God of his fathers more faithfully than
had been his wont in times past. Evidently their con-
sciences condemned them, for one after another quickly
rose to his feet and told how deeply he had been im-
163
THE OLD LOYALIST
pressed that day with the necessity of living a better life,
more in keeping with the lives of the many noble and
godly men and women who had passed on before.
An hour passed thus, and scores of men and women
in quick succession sometimes several at once, with
tears streaming down their cheeks stood up and ex-
pressed a determination to make a fresh start in the
Christian life, and asked for the prayers of God's people
that they might be true to their convictions.
No such movement had been known in the com-
munity by any one save Quinte Brown, who afterwards
recalled similar manifestations in the early days of the
settlement, and the wonderful revivals that followed.
Before the congregation dispersed, a public meeting
of all the Loyalist descendants in the settlement, was
announced by Squire Clinton for the following after-
noon in the village town hall. It immediately became
the talk of the whole district. No one apparently had
thought of it before. Every family began to enquire
about their forefathers their nationality, what State
they had come from, where their remains rested, whether
their graves were marked by monuments, and how many
generations had lived and died since the Loyalists first
landed.
They gathered at the public meeting from far and
near, old and young, and Squire Clinton was unani-
mously elected chairman of the committee. Plans were
proposed and discussed for erecting a suitable memorial
to mark the time and place of the landing of the Loyal-
ists. Propositions were made respecting the fixing up
of the long-neglected graves and the beautifying and
protection of the cemetery. Discussions followed con-
cerning the advisability of preserving the old Loyalist
164
AN UNEXPECTED SERMON
churches, no longer used for worship and rapidly going
to decay.
No definite action was taken then, but other meet-
ings followed from time to time which became intensely
interesting to every son and daughter of a Loyalist, and
ways and means were devised for carrying out the sug-
gestions made by Rev. Charles Picton in his peculiar,
but very effective, Sunday morning address.
The pastor's name was on the lips of every one in
the settlement. All were glad to see him on his pas-
toral visits, which increased and widened as time ad-
vanced until he became a great power in the community
in faithful pastoral work, and in the preaching of the
ever-wise and ever-inspiring gospel message.
The peculiar service of that particular Sabbath was
the beginning of a great spiritual awakening throughout
the whole settlement, which has been reproduced from
time to time in various parts of the world the great
Welsh revival being, perhaps, the latest illustrious ex-
ample of such marked manifestations of the quickening
of the spiritual life of a whole community.
165
CHAPTER XII.
AN UNWILLING PROMISE SECURED.
It was not an unpleasant surprise to Horace Sullivan
to learn from Squire Clinton that there was a heavy
mortgage on the latter's homestead. From the way
Curtis wrote about the matter in his letter to Helen, and
from the Squire's remarks, Horace realized that this
mortgage was a great source of worry and pain to the
whole family.
That did not concern him, however, except as it
might assist him in the accomplishment of certain plans
he desired to carry out. Years of selfish indulgence had
rendered him almost incapable of cherishing sympathetic
feelings for the sufferings of others. He was now a
wealthy young man, having inherited his father's large
property.
As a contractor on the new transcontinental line the
Canadian Pacific railway Jake Sullivan had been very
successful and had accumulated a considerable amount
of money. His untimely death by a premature blast of
nitro-glycerine, at the scene of his operations on the
North Shore of Lake Superior, had suddenly trans-
formed his son Horace from a wild, reckless 'Varsity
student into the responsible head of a large and profit-
able business. The son consequently had plenty of
money under his control, and spent it lavishly in all
sorts of dissipation. He found the rough life at the
front too irksome after the novelty had worn off, and
leaving the extensive works in charge of Saunders, his
166
AN UNWILLING PROMISE SECURED
foreman, he would spend weeks in Toronto and else-
where with a fast set, in reckless amusements and dis-
astrous dissipations.
He now hoped it might be possible to realize the
fulfilment of a purpose he had been cherishing for some
time, but which heretofore had not been very promising.
If he could gain possession of the mortgage or mort-
gages against the Clinton farm, they would, he thought,
materially assist him in persuading Gertrude Westwood
to become his wife. This was now the great object of
his ambition. This was the thought uppermost in his
mind when he conceived the idea of a lawn party.
Horace, consequently, walked home that night with
his mother from the Clintons with feelings of exulta-
tion over the prospect of securing the Clinton mortgages
and using them to good advantage in inducing Gertrude
to overcome any scruples she might chance to entertain
against marrying him. He remembered the reference
Curtis made in his letter to Helen about Gertrude, and
was glad Curtis was out of the way and that the coast
was clear.
" We must double the list of invitations, mother,"
said Horace, as they entered the house, " and make this
the greatest social event ever known in this district, and
don't for one moment consider expense in providing for
the entertainment of our guests."
" Why, Horace, what has come over you ?"
"Are you blind, mother? Can't you see I'm head
over heels in love?"
" Love and fiddlesticks ! My poor bhoy has gone
clean daft."
" Don't be foolish, mother. I'm just beginning to get
sensible, and now purpose settling down and becoming
a man."
167
THE OLD LOYALIST
" Who would marry sich a wild crature as you,
Horace, or who could live wid ye and he happy wid your
roving, drinking habits, which be worry in' the loife out
of yer poor mother."
" Gertie Westwood, of course; who else could it be?"
" May the blessed saints presarve me, Horace. Ger-
tie is too good for yez, an' begorra I don't belave she'd
wipe her shoes on ye, so I don't. The Clinton family
has niver liked yez since the day of your grandfather's
death, rest his soul."
" There now, mother, you are mistaken, and one of
these days I shall bring Gertrude here as mistress of
this house, and then you will have to stand aside and
take a second place. How will you like that?"
" Faith, an' if you do, my son, I'll dance to your
weddin' an' take her to my arms as my own darlint of
a daughter nothing would please me better. I've been
very lonely, Horace, since yer poor father's death, rest
his soul, and me only boy away from home so much
of the toime."
Mrs. Sullivan sat down on Horace's lap, and, throw-
ing her arms round his neck, hugged and kissed him
as though he were her little child again, while tears
flowed freely down her cheeks as she sobbed aloud a
new experience in the lives of this fond mother and way-
ward son. Horace made no remark, and soon Mrs.
Sullivan continued:
" Shure, darlint, an' I was only jokin' wid ye, as
nothin' would give your mother so much comfort as
for ye to marry that lovely lady ye were talkin' wid
forninst Squire Clinton's verandy to-night, an' then
settle down an' be my own swateheart once more, loike
when yez was yer mother's baby boy."
The extra invitations were issued that night, and the
1 68
AN UNWILLING PROMISE SECURED
following day Horace and his mother, with the assist-
ance of several people employed in the village, gave the
house and lawn a thorough overhauling. Preparations
on an elaborate scale were then made for entertainment,
and Horace was extremely busy for the next few days
completing arrangements for the eventful evening which
was to decide his fate.
He made several trips away from home in the carry-
ing out of his business affairs, and did not forget to
arrange with certain parties about the mortgages on the
Clinton farm, which passed into his possession without
the knowledge of Squire Clinton.
The day of the party at last arrived and Horace had
everything satisfactorily arranged to entertain his guests.
He met the Kingston steamer at the wharf to convey
the orchestra and a number of city guests to his home.
He was somewhat surprised to see the venerable Premier
of Canada step off the steamer and accompany the Clin-
tons to their home. What a triumph it would be if he
could induce the Premier to accompany the Clintons to
his party, in view of the write-up he was to have in the
Toronto papers. He would send an invitation at once
with a personal note, urging the Premier to come with
Squire Clinton and meet many of his old friends and
supporters, who would be delighted to see him once
more. Better still, he would see the Premier personally
and then the latter could scarcely decline. This was
speedily done and the coveted promise was secured.
The crowds gathered from far and near, filling the
house and swarming over the closely-cropped lawn. Old
and young were invited and all seemed to have accepted
the generous invitation. They formed in merry groups
of all sizes and ages, chatting and laughing, dancing in
the pavilion erected on the lawn, promenading through
169
THE OLD LOYALIST
the spacious grounds and partaking of delicious refresh-
ments furnished by a caterer from Toronto, while the
excellent orchestra discoursed sweet strains of music.
It was a lovely, warm, clear night, and as darkness
came on, many Chinese lanterns suspended over the lawn
were lighted; also the interior of the house was bril-
liantly illuminated.
Squire Clinton and the Premier walked over about
this time, and Horace very graciously received them and
expressed the great pleasure it afforded him to have
the presence of Canada's greatest statesman at his
humble home. The latter, after this warm greeting,
moved about among the people, most of whom he had
known from boyhood, shaking hands and chatting in
that friendly, familiar manner which always gave
genuine pleasure to all who chanced to meet him.
Horace had led off in the first dance with Gertrude
Westwood, and it was remarked by many how charming
they looked, and what a dashing couple they made.
On the arrival of the Premier, Horace arranged that
his distinguished guest should have Gertrude as a part-
ner in the only dance he took part in. The Premier
soon convinced the young men and maidens that he was
no amateur in the graceful art. He glided through the
mazes of the dance with the buoyancy and agility of
youth, like the gallant courtier of bygone days, saying
many witty things and paying many graceful compli-
ments to the young ladies, with the result that everyone
on the floor entered with zest into the spirit of this
dance, which would mark an epoch in their lives.
Gertrude, feeling the joyous thrill of dancing with
her beloved Premier, swept through the various move-
ments with a lightness of step and grace and ease that
170
AN UNWILLING PROMISE SECURED
delighted her partner and rendered her an object of con-
cern, if not of envy, to all the other young ladies present.
As the Premier and his partner retired from the
dance, Horace was ready to receive them, his face rad-
iant with smiles.
" You have done me such great honor, Sir John,
in being present at, and in taking part in our amuse-
ments," Horace remarked, very graciously, " that I have
decided henceforth to become one of your political sup-
porters, if I can be of any service."
" I'm sure that is very gratifying news, Mr. Sulli-
van," the Premier answered, with a smile ; " and I've no
doubt I have my good friend, Miss Westwood, largely
to thank for bringing you to see the error of your
former ways."
' You are quite right, sir. It is she who has been
doing the effective missionary work," replied Horace.
" Indeed !" said Gertrude, with a look of surprise at
Horace. " I cannot recall ever having spoken to you,
Mr. Sullivan, about political matters in all my life."
" But silent forces are often most powerful, Miss
Westwood," said Horace, as he turned to the' Premier
for confirmation of the truth of his wise statement.
" I wish I had many more such good missionaries
in this constituency, Miss Westwood," the Premier
suavely replied ; " I think we could then easily redeem
it at the coming election."
" If I can get the nomination from the party," boldly
answered Horace, " I will run as a government candi-
date, and I have no doubt but that, with the influence I
can bring to bear, we can win the election."
" Thank you for your suggestion, Mr. Sullivan," the
Premier gravely replied. "I appreciate your offer very
much, but I understand the party already has a candi-
171
THE OLD LOYALIST
date in view, and it would not be wise, you know, to
interfere with the choice the people may have made."
" Now that I see Squire Clinton coming to fulfil his
promise to take me home early, I shall say good-bye,
Mr. Sullivan, and trust your guests will all go away as
much delighted with your excellent reception as I have
been."
After the Premier had cordially shaken hands with
Horace and Gertrude, and had departed arm in arm with
Squire Clinton, Horace turned to Gertrude and said :
"Come with me up to yonder balcony, Miss West-
wood, where we may have a few words in private con-
versation."
" Very well, Mr. Sullivan. If you will lead the way
I shall be pleased to follow, for the hallways are thronged
with people."
Gertrude accompanied Horace through the crowded
building, up two flights of stairs, and soon they emerged
from a door on a roof balcony. Horace closed the door
behind them and they stood there in silence gazing at
the animated scene below.
The air was warm and still, scarcely a leaf fluttering
in the cluster of shade-trees surrounding the lawn. The
moon had risen and, being nearly at the full, was bathing
the earth with a flood of mellow light, without a cloud
above the horizon to obscure its brightness. The silver
streak of the bay, broken here and there by an elm,
maple or birch tree in the fields or along its bank, could
be seen stretching east and west for a long distance.
Beyond the bay the crest of the hill growing higher
and higher towards the west and culminating in the
lake on the mountain, could be distinctly traced in the
bright moonlight.
The Clinton home, nearly environed with giant
172
AN UNWILLING PROMISE SECURED
maples, stood out prominently to the east, and the fields
and fences of the old farm, familiar and dear to Ger-
trude, could be outlined from the bay, back for a con-
siderable distance toward the rear of the farm.
The long line of horses and carriages in the lane,
the chatter of many people moving about on the lawn
below, the pale light of the lanterns, the strains of music
in the pavilion all these sights and sounds were noticed
by Horace and Gertrude in the brief interval that elapsed
before a word was spoken. Then Horace turned to
Gertrude, and taking a long, white envelope from his
pocket with one hand, while he placed the other upon
her shoulder, said:
" Miss Westwood, this is the surprise I promised you
last week. I cannot tell you how much pleasure it
affords me to be able to place these papers in your hand."
"What does the envelope contain, Mr. Sullivan?"
" It contains the mortgages on the Clinton farm for
ten thousand dollars, which I have purchased since that
evening we sat on Squire Clinton's verandah, and which
I now present to you, with the request that you hand it
over to Squire Clinton, thus freeing his farm entirely
from all debt and allowing him and his family to breathe
God's air more freely than they have in recent years."
Gertrude took the envelope and rapturously ex-
claimed : " Mr. Sullivan, how can I ever thank you suffi-
ciently for such generosity? Nothing in this world
could possibly give me such delight as to be able to do
as you say. That awful burden has been slowly, yet
surely, sinking my dear benefactor and guardian into
his grave. Your extreme kindness, Mr. Sullivan, will
bring joy unbounded to the whole family I sincerely
thank you from the bottom of my heart, and I feel
i73
THE OLD LOYALIST
assured Curtis and Walter will repay you with interest
in a very few years."
" I have just one little request to ask, Gertie, in re-
turn. I do not ask or expect a cent from Curtis or
Walter it is a gift to you. Will you grant my re-
quest?"
" Certainly, Mr. Sullivan, if I can. And what is it,
pray?"
" That you make me the happiest man in all Canada
by becoming my wife."
Gertrude looked keenly at Horace for a moment,
scarcely able to realize the import of what he had said ;
then, stepping back quickly, so that his hand on her
shoulder fell to his side, and throwing the white envelope
at his feet, she replied in a stern tone, with pale face
and compressed lips:
" Never, Mr. Sullivan. That can never be. Take
back your documents."
"Why not, Miss Westwood?"
" Because I do not love you."
" That may be true now, Gertie, but "
" That will always be true, Mr. Sullivan, and you
must cease this moment to entertain such a thought,"
answered Gertrude, impatiently, without allowing
Horace to complete the sentence.
" Look here, Miss Westwood," said Horace, firmly,
"you must listen to me. We have known each other
since childhood days, and I have always admired you
notwithstanding the fact that you have been reserved
and cold in response to any advances I have made to
cultivate your friendship. Latterly, I have learned to
love you passionately, and since meeting you here during
our holidays I began to have strong hopes that your
feelings toward me were undergoing a change that, in
i74
AN UNWILLING PROMISE SECURED
fact, you would consent to become my wife and enjoy
the comforts of a good home yourself, and at the same
time be in a position to free your guardian's farm
from all encumbrances. To this end I am now willing
to, give you a deed in your own name of this valuable Sul-
livan farm on which we now stand, and to hand you the
mortgages of the Clinton farm which have cost me ten
thousand dollars. Surely, that should be an inducement
for a poor girl to marry, who otherwise will be forced
to work hard for her living all her days."
" Pardon me, Mr. Sullivan," Gertrude replied, with
warmth and spirit, " I am quite willing to work for my
living, and shall never feel that it is any disgrace. I
thank you for your generous offer, but let me tell you
frankly I would rather live on one meal a day with the
man I love than be your wife and possess all your abun-
dant wealth."
"And what about your friends?" said Horace, who
felt he still had his trump card up his sleeve.
" It certainly would be very gratifying indeed, Mr.
Sullivan, to clear the farm of debt with one stroke;
but we shall have to wait patiently until Curtis and
Walter can earn the money, which at the most cannot
be more than a few years."
" Very well, Miss Westwood, the matter rests with
you. But understand that the Clinton farm is mine
since these mortgages are equal to its entire value, and
if you refuse to grant my request, your family shall be
turned out homeless on the street to-morrow."
" Surely not, Mr. Sullivan," cried Gertrude, in alarm.
" That would be awfully cruel and would, I'm quite
sure, break Squire Clinton's heart."
" That is what I feared, and that is why I think
you should act wisely, and by becoming my wife insure
i7S
THE OLD LOYALIST
your guardians the comforts of a good home in their
declining years, and at the same time relieve Curtis and
Walter from financial burdens that would probably
cripple them all their lives."
Horace could see that his specious argument was
having the desired effect and he felt like patting himself
on the back for having secured those mortgages.
" You certainly do not intend to be so unkind?" con-
tinued Gertrude, in a pleading voice. " Think of the
disgrace. Think of the pain and sorrow it would cause
those dear old people who have been kindness itself to
all of us children. Why should you do this?"
" You have plenty of capital, Mr. Sullivan Horace.
You have a kind mother to live for, and some day,
doubtless, you will find a suitable wife of your own
faith, who will give you her love in return for yours.
Be generous, then, Horace ; yea, more, be noble and kind
and spare us now. Then at some future day you will re-
joice and thank God that you took the advice of Gertie
Westwood."
She had placed her soft hand on Horace's arm, and
looking him in the eyes, had spoken with a trembling
voice, revealing deep emotion. He listened intently
until she had finished, and then replied slowly, but firmly :
" All you have said, Gertie, cannot possibly dissuade
me from my purpose. The flame of love for you burns
so strong in my heart that I would sacrifice everything
I have in this world nay, more, I would give up every
hope I may have of happiness in the world to come in
order that I might win you. You must consent to be
my wife, or the Clinton family will be disgraced. There
is no other alternative. What do you say?"
Gertrude now burst into tears, and while they freely
flowed she thought of all the sacrifice Squire Clinton
176
AN UNWILLING PROMISE SECURED
had made for her. He had rescued her perhaps from a
life of shame in New York; had cared for her through
childhood as though she were his own child, and in later
years had freely expended the money in her education
that had contributed to weighing down the farm with
a heavy burden.
Now, when it came to the first real test, and she was
called upon to make a sacrifice for him and his family,
she shrank like a coward from the task, refusing, pos-
sibly, the only chance there would ever be to redeem the
farm.
On the other hand, she thought of Curtis and of
the scene under the mistletoe, when they were children,
to which he had alluded in his letter to Helen, which had
always remained fresh in her memory. But since Curtis
had never confessed the love she firmly believed he
cherished for her, she was not actually bound to him,
but free to marry whom she would.
Then, reverting again to the feeling of repugnance
she entertained for the man before her, Gertie sobbed
aloud in her distress. " Oh, miserable creature that I
am. Would to heaven I had never been born."
" Don't say that, but consent to be my wife, as I
believe that you are now convinced it is your duty to
do, and you shall never regret the step you have taken."
" No, I am not convinced," Gertrude answered, with
a look of despair, " but I consent to marry you not for
my own peace or happiness, which I this moment resign
for ever but solely to prevent sorrow and disgrace to
those who have befriended me, and rescued me perhaps
from a life of shame."
" Thank you, Gertie," said Horace, with an out-
burst of joy, and threw his arms around her in a loving
embrace.
12 I77
THE OLD LOYALIST
" Stand back, sir ! Don't dare touch me, or take any
liberties with me until I am your wife," cried Gertrude,
stepping back and standing erect with the dignity of a
queen.
"How soon may that be, I pray?" asked Horace,
with a cynical smile, as he stepped back and thrust his
hands into his pockets."
" The sooner the better to-morrow if you choose."
"Very well, to-morrow. Where, and by whom?"
" Privately, in our church and by our pastor, with
Helen alone as a witness is that satisfactory, Mr. Sul-
livan?"
" Quite satisfactory, and I shall have the papers
there. We shall then have time to catch the evening
steamer for Belleville, and the flyer for Toronto, Chi-
cago and the Pacific Coast, embracing two or three
months of the grandest trip possible on the American
continent."
They descended from the roof and reached the parlor
just as a large throng was vigorously applauding Helen
for a selection she had been playing on the piano. She
was just retiring from the room, and meeting Gertrude,
said:
" Why, dear, what is the matter? You are as pale
as death."
"Come home, please, Helen. The atmosphere here
seems very oppressive. Let us get away as quickly as
possible."
Quietly and unobserved Gertrude and Helen left the
party and without any escort walked home. At a late
hour the guests dispersed, and Horace Sullivan con-
gratulated himself on the marvellous success of his first
social effort, and the excellent manner in which his mar-
riage plans were working out.
178
CHAPTER XIII.
THE BOWERY WAIF HAS A HISTORY.
The two girls entered the Clinton lawn when Ger-
trude, drawing her friend to one side of the pathway,
said : " Take a seat here, Helen, with me, under this
dear old maple, where we have so often sat in years
gone by and told each other the innermost thoughts of
our hearts."
They sat down side by side on a large wickerwork
lawn chair, with their wraps over their shoulders, for the
night air was cool, and at once became engaged in earnest
conversation, respecting the one important event, to
Gertrude at least, of the Sullivan party.
Helen was so sympathetic and kind that Gertrude
was constrained to tell her all that had taken place be-
tween herself and Horace Sullivan. She frankly con-
fessed that, although she did not entertain the slightest
regard for Horace, yet, as a matter of expediency, she
would wed him on the morrow and save the Clinton
family from disgrace and poverty.
" Surely not, Gertie. It will never do for you to
marry a man whom you do not love, no matter what the
consequences may be," replied Helen, aroused and in-
dignant at the thought of Horace being so unscrupulous
as to demand that Gertrude, her dearest friend, should
sacrifice herself to so selfish a creature in order to save
the Clinton farm from passing out of the family's pos-
session.
179
THE OLD LOYALIST
" But I tell you, Helen, I have promised to do so,
believing it to be my plain duty under the circumstances,
and that promise shall be fulfilled," Gertrude sternly re-
plied in a harsh, unnatural tone of voice, which Helen
realized meant settled determination. Still, Helen would
persist in a hopeless argument.
" What does it matter, Gertrude dear, if we should
be turned on the street? You and I can earn our own
living, and Curtis and Walter will not see our grand-
parents suffer. Be sensible, Gertie, and let Horace, the
villain, do his worst. I beseech of you not to sacrifice
all your happiness in this world, and perhaps in the
world to come, from a mistaken sense of duty. Be true
to yourself, my dear sister, though the heavens fall, and
you shall sooner or later realize that you have acted in
your own best interests as well as of all others con-
cerned. You must listen to the voice of reason."
" No, Helen, your argument may be true possibly
it is quite true but I have made a promise, and that
promise must be fulfilled, regardless of what the conse-
quences may be."
" It is better to break a bad promise, Gertrude, than
to attempt to fulfil it. Listen to me, Gertie. You have
told me your secret, now let me tell you mine, and per-
haps that will influence you. When Charlie and I
were on the mountain that day last week, just before
the boating accident, he told me he loved me and re-
quested me to become his wife. I refused him for two
reasons, first, because I did not love him, and second,
because my affections were centred in another. Did I
do right, Gertie? Answer quickly? Why do you hesi-
tate?"
" Yes, Helen," Gertrude at length replied, " and I
am glad indeed to know you still remain faithful and
1 80
THE BOWERY WAIF HAS A HISTORY
true to your early love especially since the object of
your affections is so worthy a young man."
" Then why should you not prove faithful and true
to yours, when you know as well as I that your love is
reciprocated by one, whom we are both satisfied, is noble
and good and true my own darling brother."
"There, now, dear Helen, you must cease your very
logical reasoning. What you say was the uppermost
thought in my mind to-night, and had there ever been
a word of confession, one to the other, I could not I
would not have dared to consent to Horace Sullivan's
proposal. In the absence, therefore, of any actual tie
binding me to another, and remembering my duty to my
benefactor that duty we heard so much about from our
pastor last Sunday at church the thought of that, I
say, took possession of me and impelled me to forget
all about my own happiness, and to undertake to main-
tain the happiness and honor of those who have reared
me and cared for me as one of their own, whose kind-
ness I can never repay in this world. I am sorry,
Helen, dear you cannot realize how deeply that
this awful cloud has settled down so suddenly over
my life, hitherto bright with happy anticipations,
but God has decreed it, so it seems to me, there-
fore it must be done and you must not oppose me in my
set purpose.
" To-morrow, in the afternoon, I shall expect you
alone to accompany me to the church and witness my
marriage. Not a word on the subject must be men-
tioned to your grandparents until after the ceremony,
when I shall return and tell them all, and hand them the
mortgages before we take our departure, and ask their
forgiveness if I have done wrong, which I'm sure they
will grant. When you write to Curtis and Walter and
THE OLD LOYALIST
tell them Gertie is married, say, too, that the mortgages
are all burned and that the dear old homestead is again
entirely free from debt."
Entering the house quietly, the two girls retired to
their respective rooms, and endeavored, like others, to
forget for a season the cares and anxieties of this world
in refreshing slumber. But sleep, the greatest restorer
to the human race of vitality, ambition and hopefulness,
was out of the question for several hours that night with
Gertrude Westwood.
Her emotions, Vesuvius-like, were stirred to their
profoundest depths. She knelt beside her bed, as she had
been wont from childhood, and especially prayed that
God would guide her and uphold her in the important
step she was about to take. Then, retiring, she tossed
on her pillow from hour to hour, with countless thoughts
regarding her whole past life and weird imaginations
respecting the future.
With an intensity she had never before experienced,
Gertrude's thoughts went back to her earliest childhood,
to her baby life in New York, to her father, whom she
could scarcely remember; to her mother, an angel of
light ; to the little trinkets her mother had given her on
her death-bed, and especially the miniature hand-paint-
ing encased in a gold locket, of some ancestor of her
mother's, which she had quite forgotten.
She began to wonder what had become of that paint-
ing and all those precious keepsakes. After her mind
had dwelt upon them for a short time, Gertrude arose
from her bed, lit her lamp, and brought out from the
bottom of her trunk the small parcel given her by her
mother, which she had not opened before since early
girlhood. She spread each little article out carefully on
her dresser, including a lock of her mother's hair, which
182
THE BOWERY WAIF HAS A HISTORY
by comparison she found closely resembled her own.
Then she unfolded and unclasped a large gold locket, and
gazed long and earnestly at the features of her mother's
ancestor, between whom and her guardian, Squire Clin-
ton, she thought she discovered a striking resemblance.
So much was she impressed with this that, with the
open locket in one hand and the lamp in the other, she
opened the door, went through into an adjoining room,
and stood at the bedside of Mr. and Mrs. Clinton, who,
as she supposed, were fast asleep, and compared the
features of the portrait with those of her kind guardian
now resting so quietly in his comfortable bed.
She could not refrain from bending over and kissing
the old couple, whose grey heads lay peacefully slumber-
ing within easy reach upon spotless white pillows.
Gertrude was turning away and tip-toeing out of the
room, when she heard her guardian call, " What is it,
Gertie?"
Returning to the bedside, she answered in a low
voice :
" Nothing ; only a fancy of mine to compare this por-
trait given me by my mother, with your face, in which
there certainly seems to be somewhat of a resemblance.
I'm sorry, though, that I came in and wakened you."
"Why aren't you sleeping at this time of the night,
child? Do nurses in Toronto become night owls and
flit about in the dark hours and then sleep in the day-
time?" said the Squire, kindly, as he rubbed his eyes.
" No, not usually ; but I find I am somewhat nervous
to-night and have been thinking about my childhood and
my mother and how you became my guardian. You
never told me the particulars of that important event,
Squire Clinton, and I would dearly love to hear all about
it. Will you not tell me now?"
183
THE OLD LOYALIST
" Not tonight, Gertie, dear go to your bed now
and some other time I'll tell you all the particulars. So
run off, quickly, child, and ' jump into bed and cover up
your head and lock the door with the pillow.' "
"Won't you tell me now, please? I would sleep
much better to-night if I knew all about my mother and
something more about this portrait," asked Gertrude,
pleadingly.
" Yes, if you like, foolish child. Put down the lamp
on the stand there and bring the chair close beside me
so that we may not waken tired Mother Clinton."
" Do you think any one could sleep, George, when
you are talking loudly enough to waken the whole house-
hold?" Mrs. Clinton answered, in a low, whispering
voice.
" Upon my word, Mary, I thought you were sound
asleep."
" I'm not always asleep when my eyes are closed,
like some people I know. But, Gertie dear, how pale
you are. Here, child, put this counterpane around your
shoulders as the night air is cool. You should be in
your bed at this time of night, fast asleep."
" Thank you, Mrs. Clinton, that makes me very com-
fortable. Now, you may proceed with the story, and
please tell me every particular."
Squire Clinton thus began : " Well, you see, after
my son Tom and his wife were drowned, leaving two
babies, Curtis and Helen, for mother and me to bring
up, I grew restless and nervous, like you women folk
do at times, and so decided on taking a trip down to
Virginia, where our forefathers had lived, and see if I
could find traces of any other branch of our family. It
turned out to be a wild-goose chase, as every mother's
son of them had gone, and I could not even find the
184
THE BOWERY WAIF HAS A HISTORY
plantation where Quinte had told me the Clinton family
lived, on the Potomac river.
" After visiting George Washington's grave, and
the capital city named after him, I returned to New
York, and was wandering around seeing the sights of
that great metropolis, when I happened to pass through
a street called ' The Bowery,' which was the toughest-
looking hole I ever had seen. On a certain corner I
stood and watched the proceedings of the people that
thronged the place, when I was touched on the arm by
a pretty, black-eyed little maid, clean and neatly dressed,
who was weeping and attempting to dry her eyes on a
dainty white handkerchief.
" I asked her what she was crying about. She re-
plied that her dear mamma was very sick in an old
rickety tenement building across the street to which
she pointed and that she was likely to die and there
was no one there to do anything for her. I had heard
something about the way some of these New York
people decoyed greenhorns, or tenderfeet, like myself,
into out-of-the-way places and robbed them and some-
times killed them. That was the first thought that
flashed into my mind.
" Then the little girl took me by the hand and said,
with earnest entreaty, ' Please sir, will you not come
with me and speak to my dying mamma before she goes
to heaven?'
" There was something so pitiful in the words and
voice that I became at once convinced there could be
no deception in this case, so away I went with the little
girl and climbed two pairs of rickety stairs amid dirt
and filth and a smell that was almost unendurable. In
another minute I was led into a clean, tidy room, and
there on the bed sure enough, lay an emaciated creature
185
THE OLD LOYALIST
in the last stages of consumption. She had been a good-
looking woman in her day, with large, black eyes and
fine features, but alas, that terrible disease had done its
work and she was now but a living skeleton.
" ' Here, mamma, dear, is a kind gentleman I found
on the street, who has come to see you before you go
away to live with the angels/ said the little maid, as
she led me to the bedside, and placed her mother's hand
in mine.
" ' You are very kind, sir,' the woman said, in a
low, trembling voice, ' I have been praying that some
one would come in before I die, and God has been kind
enough to send you to me, in answer to my prayers.'
" ' What can I do for you, madam ?' I asked. ' You
apparently are very sick and have not long to live in this
world.'
" ' Could you take this darling child of mine, sir, and
care for her as your own, or else find her a good home
after I'm gone, where she will be free from the snares
and temptations of this awful place?'
"I thought for a few moments of the situation, and
the need Mother Clinton had here on the farm for such
a little girl, before I answered :
" ' Yes, I'll take your child and provide her a good
home in my 'family and see that she gets an education.
I will treat her as one of my own, and you need have no
more concern about the care of your child.'
" The sick woman's face lit up wonderfully as she
reached out her bony hand, and taking mine, said :
1 God bless you and reward you, sir, for your extreme
kindness to a poor, helpless woman.'
" ' What is the name of the child ?' I enquired.
" ' Gertie Westwood.'
" ' And your name, madam ?'
1 86
THE BOWERY WAIF HAS A HISTORY
a (
Westwood. Gertrude Westwood,' she replied,
slowly, ' wife of Charles Westwood, a dry goods clerk,
who sickened and died with the same disease I have,
shortly after our only child, this little girl Gertie, was
born. He was a good man and did his best to keep us
and earn a living for us ; but, at last, the end came. He
died peacefully and I buried him.'
" ' I have had a hard struggle since to make ends
meet with my needle, but always managed to live in re-
spectable quarters until my health failed. We were
obliged to come to this terrible district a few months
ago, but I'm so glad, sir, that you will take my dear
child away from this loathsome place.'
" Then, placing a little parcel, which she took from
under her pillow, into my hands, she continued : ' There
are some little keepsakes for Gertie, and among other
trinkets you will find a locket containing a miniature
painting of one of my forefathers in Virginia, handed
down through several generations to the next heir by
some arrangement made many years ago. My father
gave it to me, and now I wish Gertie to keep it and
pass it on down to her child, if ever the dear girl has
one.'
" She told me a kind neighbor, a washerwoman,
had been doing her work, in addition to her own; also
that I would find Gertie's few clothes clean, though
much worn, in a closet in the room. She requested me
to sell the furniture and such things as were of any
value in the room, to use the money to bury her beside
her husband, whose plot and grave I would find in a
certain cemetery, and she named the Presbyterian minis-
ter whom she desired to officiate at her burial the same
who had buried your father, Gertie, dear. Your mother
lay perfectly still for a few minutes. I knelt beside her
187
THE OLD LOYALIST
bed and prayed with her, and pointed her to the ' Lamb
of God that taketh away the sins of the world.' Then
she called you to her side, and, kissing you again
and again, placed your hand in mine and said, through
blinding tears : ' Good-bye, sir. Take good care of
my precious child. Good-bye, Gertie, dear, be a good
girl. Meet your mamma in heaven.' Then her spirit
fled and you and I, Gertie, became good friends, which
friendship, I trust, will never cease."
The old kitchen clock's ceaseless tick-tock, tick-tock,
was the only sound that could be heard in the stillness
of the night as Squire Clinton ceased speaking.
Gertrude sobbed for some minutes, and then, wiping
away her tears, and looking at a photo she held in her
hand, said : " My dear, dear mother, how beautiful, how
unfortunate, how good! Do you see any resemblance
between my mother and me?"
She handed the photo to Squire Clinton, gave him
his glasses and brought the light near to the bedside.
The Squire, after closely examining the photo, ex-
claimed : " Yes, certainly, Gertie, a strong resemblance.
Where have you kept that photo of your mother all these
years? It must have been taken when she was about
your age."
" Along with this one," said Gertrude, handing him
the large gold locket, " laid away in the parcel my
mother gave me, which I always regarded as too sacred
to handle."
" Whose picture is that ?" asked the Squire, with evi-
dent surprise, as he looked closely at the painting in the
gold locket, and then up at Gertrude.
" My mother's Virginia ancestor. The one you were
just speaking about. Did she not tell you his name?"
" No, I don't remember that she told me who it was,
188
THE BOWERY WAIF HAS A HISTORY
nor did she mention her maiden name. Poor soul, she
was too much concerned about providing you a home
during the few moments she had to live to think of
those details."
" What a pity you did not find out the name, Squire
Clinton, for I see some resemblance between that paint-
ing and yourself. Perhaps he was some relation of your
Virginian ancestor, Percival Clinton, whom Quinte once
told us about !"
The Squire and Mrs. Clinton examined both the
photo and painting, and after they had commented upon
them for a time, Gertrude bade them good-night, and
then quietly returned to her room without mentioning
a word about her approaching marriage.
It weighed heavily upon her mind that it was her
plain duty to tell those who had been so kind to her all
about the matter, now that she was about to leave their
home. She knew, however, they would not approve of
the act, and therefore she must maintain silence until the
dreaded ceremony was over on the following day.
It was a great relief to her to learn the particulars
of her father and mother, and to know there was no
blot or stain upon her birth and early life : also that her
parents had been dependent upon a higher power had
put their trust in God and had gone to a better world.
This was her one comforting thought. Gertrude retired
once more, and this time found solace in a few hours'
sleep. She was aroused in the early morning by a
commotion in the house and knew that the Squire was
astir in order to take the Premier to the steamer for
Kingston.
Then she arose and dressed and began the many
duties of that most eventful day in her life.
" You may tell the Convention this, George," said
189
THE OLD LOYALIST
the Premier, as the two stood upon the wharf waiting
for the steamer, whose trail of smoke was close at hand,
"that I came up from Ottawa on purpose to persuade
you, if possible, to allow your grandson, Curtis, to be-
come our candidate in this county in the approaching
election in accordance with the desire of many of our
party. His absence will cut no figure, as we can have him
here in good time for the campaign. Tell them, more-
over, that I believe he will make the strongest man that
we can put in the field, and that it will be a personal
pleasure to me to learn that he has been nominated, as I
have regarded him for some time as one of our coming
young men in this country. I've been waiting for a good
opportunity to bring him into public life, and this appar-
ently is the opportune time."
" I thank you very sincerely, Sir John." the Squire
answered, " for your thoughtfulness and for your kind
words respecting my boy, Curtis. I shall certainly ac-
cede to your request if you consider it the proper thing
to do, and will convey your message to the Convention
at its next meeting, and advise you of the result of the
proceedings. From what you have said it is probable
that Horace Sullivan's name will come up for nomina-
tion, and as he has considerable wealth and some in-
fluence, it is possible the Convention may feel disposed
to give him the preference."
" Not a bit of danger of that, Squire. We must not
antagonize Horace if he feels inclined to come over to
our side; but he is not the type of a man to carry this
constituency. Even if he could which I think very
improbable we could not depend upon him in an emer-
gency. He does not come of a very good breed, you
know, Squire. His father, Jake, and his grandfather,
190
THE BOWERY WAIF HAS A HISTORY
Captain Mike well, rest their ashes. We'll say nothing
against the dead, but we can scarcely forget the past.
" No, friend George, rest assured there will be no
difficulty in arranging for Curtis to become our candi-
date. I shall in the meantime have a word with some
of our more influential followers in the riding. We
must bring all our forces to bear, for there is only one
thing more uncertain in this world than an election,
as I have often said, and that, as you doubtless know,
is a horse-race. Good-bye, Squire, my old friend, and
don't forget to write me about the boy Curtis."
" Good-bye, Sir John, God bless you !" the old
Loyalist replied, as he removed his wide-brimmed straw-
hat, and warmly grasped the Premier's extended hand.
A few moments later his departing guest stepped aboard
the steamer, ascended to the deck, and signalled a part-
ing farewell to Squire Clinton. The latter waved his
handkerchief in response, and then stood, watching the
departing steamer until it had rounded the small island,
immersed in deep thought. His heart was filled with
gratitude at the thought of the Premier's recognition of
the boy Curtis, in whose future welfare he was deeply
concerned. Then his mind reverted to the schooner May-
flower, and the tragedy that had taken place many years
before on the spot where he now stood, in the life of
the Mayflower's owner, Captain Mike Sullivan. As
Squire Clinton gazed over the quiet waters of the bay,
all the scenes and experiences of that most strenuous
period of his life, came trooping before his mental vision
like panoramic views on canvas. Retracing his steps
homeward, a little later Squire Clinton dismissed all
sad reflections on the Fenian Raid of former days, and
comforted himself with the glad thought, that matters
might have been far worse, and that the Premier was
still his good friend. 191
CHAPTER XIV.
QUINTE MAKES AN IMPORTANT PROTEST.
It was arranged that morning that Quinte Brown
should hitch a horse to the phaeton and drive Gertrude
and Helen to the church in the afternoon, where the
pastor, Rev. Charles Picton, was to perform the mar-
riage ceremony.
** Specs you an' Miss Gertie is gwine to practise fo'
next Sunday," said Quinte, with a grin. " Hope you'll
sing one of dem lovely duets, Miss Helen. Golly!
Quinte loves to heah you ladies sing seems jes' like de
angels, as I've often said."
" Yes, Quinte, we certainly shall have to sing our
best if you are going to be the preacher again next
Sunday," she answered, with a smile, and a knowing
look.
" Dar, now, Miss Helen, don't make any moah fun
of ol' Quinte. Golly, it felt funny to stan' up dar befo'
all dem people las' Sunday! You couldn't hire Quinte
to do dat ting agin. No no! Not eben fo' de pastor,
much as I love him."
" You had better dress up in your Sunday clothes
to-day, Quinte, for we desire our coachman to look-
pretty fine, you know, when we go driving to the
church."
" All right, Miss Helen. Quinte will knock de spots
off dem Kingston niggahs all togged up wid plug hnts
an' kid gloves an' hoi's dar whips jes' so when dey drive
192
QUINTE MAKES AN IMPORTANT PROTEST
de gran' ladies. Golly, don't dey tink demsel's swell
when dey drive 'long de street lookin' outer de co'ners
ob der eyes at us pooah f o'kes ? But Quinte can beat dem
all hollo'. Yah! Yah! Yah!" And the old servant
chuckled and laughed as he shuffled away to prepare for
the afternoon drive with the young ladies.
Great was the surprise of Charlie Picton when
Horace Sullivan drove over that morning and arranged
for his marriage that very afternoon with Gertrude
Westwood.
" Honor bright, Charlie. True as preaching. I'm
to be married this afternoon at three o'clock in your
church. Mum is the word until after the ceremony is
over," said Horace, in reply to Charlie's surprised look.
" There's another one in the family for you, Charlie,
and I hope you'll follow suit soon. You're not as young
as you once were, remember, and time and tide wait
for no man."
" But why did you not give me notice before,
Horace? Why this secrecy? Why this haste? Surely
Gertrude is not a party to this sudden marriage !"
" Why, I was not engaged until last night, sure,
Charlie, old man; and as for keeping it a secret, that is
Gertie's idea, not mine. I don't care how many know
it or how soon. Shall I call for you, Charlie, and drive
you over to the church with my team? You can drive
back with Helen."
" No, thank you, Horace. I much prefer going in
my own conveyance, as I may have some calls to make."
11 All right, my boy, don't be late and mind you
tie the knot good and tight, and there is a cool hundred
in my pocket for you when the deed is done. Such
events are rare in one's life and should be well paid
for."
13 193
THE OLD LOYALIST
Horace then cracked the whip over a team of spirited
black thoroughbreds, attached to a light covered buggy,
and dashed away down the road, smoking a cigar and
waving his hand to any of the neighbors who chanced to
be in sight.
A few minutes later he reined up at the village hotel,
and springing hghtly out, handed the lines to Jenkins, one
of the old bummers about the place, who invariably was
on hand night or day when any free drinks were avail-
able. As Horace walked to the hotel door he said to the
man holding the reins:
" Hold them tight, Jenkins, old man. They're a
pair of trumps the best team along the Bay of Quinte."
" Pretty busy time, Bill ?" said Horace to the proprie-
tor, as he entered the bar. " Your customers are all at
work these days not much doing in the bar, eh, Bill?"
" Right you are, Horace. There are not many of
the boys around this fine harvesting weather. They will
be here to-night, though, and make it a little more
lively. They know I've got a fresh barrel of beer on tap
to-day and that will bring them, sure."
" Well, here's a fiver, Bill, to treat the boys when
they come in. I'm off to-night for Chicago and the Paci-
fic Coast for a few weeks, and will not see you again
before I go ; so tra-la, William au revoir as we say in
French, until I return in the course of a couple of
months. You will hear that something has happened
in the meantime. Good-bye."
" Good-bye, Horace, and good luck to you," the
genial proprietor replied, as he shook hands with Horace
and then stored the crisp five dollar note away in his
trousers pocket. Flipping the old man Jenkins a quar-
ter, Horace took the reins, shouted at his team, and
hastened away with a freshly-lighted cigar to interview
QUINTE MAKES AN IMPORTANT PROTEST
the issuer of marriage licenses at the other end of the
village. Then, having completed some minor duties, he
returned home in time for dinner, which his devoted
mother had ready and waiting for him.
" Yes, Horace, my darlint bhoy," said Mrs. Sullivan,
as she bade her son good-bye with tears in her eyes, on
his departure in the afternoon. " I'll have the house
all trim and nate for yez and your pretty bride when
yez come back from Chicagy, and shure I'll be glad to
take a back sate and let sich a grand loidy become the
mistress of this house. May the blissed angels presarve
yez from harm and bring yez back safe from yer honey-
moon and make yez a good mon. I shall count the days
until me darlint returns wid his swate bride, and here's
anither kiss for that swate soul."
" All right, mother ; thanks for your good wishes
and blessing, and I hope you will always remember who
is mistress here. You might polish up your English or
Irish a little in our absence, and be able to make a some-
what better appearance in our social life in future.
Some of your expressions are a little out of date, you
know, in the social life of to-day."
"Faith and bejabers, Horace, an' I can talk wid
the best of 'em an' yez needn't be afther gettin' ashamed
of yer old mither's Irish brogue. Shure an' ye moight
jist as well expect a lipard to change his spots as fer me
to larn yer new-fangled words. So good-bye to yez,
an' may hiven presarve yez both an' bring yez back in
safety."
At the proper time Quinte appeared with the con-
veyance at the front gate, togged out in his black Sun-
day suit, and an old silk hat that had done duty for
several generations, which he only wore on special
occasions.
i95
THE OLD LOYALIST
Helen and Gertrude came out dressed in their
ordinary plain costumes, and took seats in the phaeton,
while Quinte mounted a rear seat, folded his arms and
looked very grand in his own estimation, as they pro-
ceeded leisurely to the adjoining concession.
They reached the church in good time and found
the minister already there. While Quinte was putting
away the horse, Rev. Charles Picton and the two young
ladies walked inside the church and sat down without
uttering a word. Presently they heard a buggy dash
up, and, looking through the windows, they could see
Horace Sullivan drive under the shed, his horses all
covered with foam.
" Wondah what's gwine on heah to-day?" said Quinte
to himself, as he saw Horace drive in, and shortly after-
wards enter the church. He followed inside, and, taking
a seat near the door, watched the movements of the four
people who had now advanced to the altar. He saw
Horace take certain papers from his pocket and hand
them to the minister. Quinte was a deeply-interested
spectator of these proceedings, and, without attracting
any notice, walked quietly up to the front seat and sat
down.
" This seems to be a mortgage of the Ginton farm,"
said the minister, as he glanced over the documents,
" drawn in favor of John Fisher, with a transfer to
Horace Sullivan, and a more recent transfer from Horace
Sullivan to Gertrude Westwood."
Then, taking another paper in his hand, he said,
" This document is a deed of Horace Sullivan's farm
to Gertrude Westwood. These papers are duly executed
and witnessed, with seals attached, and without doubt
are what they purport to be. What do you wish done
with them, Mr. Sullivan? Why do you hand them to
me?" 196
QUINTE MAKES AN IMPORTANT PROTEST
" You are to give them to Miss Westwood, after
she becomes Mrs. Sullivan," Horace proudly answered.
" She will then be the sole possessor of those two ad-
joining farms."
Gertrude, with a face like a marble statue, dejected
at heart, though still resolute, moved over to the posi-
tion assigned her by the minister beside Horace. Helen
stood by her side, and the marriage service was begun
in a very listless, indifferent manner by the one in
charge.
The voice of Rev. Charles Picton, usually strong and
steady, now trembled and faltered as he began reading
the solemn words. He was evidently nervous and ex-
cited, and vainly endeavored to preserve that quiet, com-
posed manner habitual with him under ordinary circum-
stances.
Helen glanced for a moment into the face of her
pastor, and quickly realized he was undergoing a great
strain, and she wondered if he, too, like herself, was
shrinking from the thought of the consummation of this
marriage.
" Oh, God ! If something could happen to prevent
it, even, at this last moment," prayed Helen to herself,
as, with intense sadness, and eyes full of tears, she
stood listening to the words which would soon result in
what she firmly believed would prove a most unhappy
union.
Horace was perfectly unconcerned and indifferent to
the deep emotion that prevailed among the other mem-
bers of the little group at the altar. His mind was self-
centred. A life of selfish gratification, indulgence by
a fond but foolish mother, and utter disregard of the
claims of others, rendered it impossible for him to see
beyond the narrow horizon bounded by his vanity, ig-
197
THE OLD LOYALIST
norance, conceit and arrogance. He looked on with
perfect composure, as a customer at a counter who ex-
pects to obtain the goods he pays for, no more, no
less.
Quinte became greatly interested, and then more and
more agitated as the service proceeded. He rubbed and
rolled his eyes, looking first at one and then at another,
scratched his long, grey locks, fumbled in his pockets,
wiped his brow with a large bandanna, and actually
clenched his fist and shook it at Horace Sullivan.
He had seen marriage ceremonies performed in the
old days in the log cabin, and so was not long in com-
prehending what was going on, and who were the con-
tracting parties.
" Heben sakes alibe!" he said, in an under breath,
" can it be possible dat my deah chile, Miss Gertie, is
gwine to marry dat man, an' he a Sullivan, one ob ol'
Captain Mike's tribe?"
" Wondah if Mas'r an' Missus knows about dat?
Why am dey not heah? Golly, dis am strange goin's
on. An angel to marry a debbil nebber, so help me
God !" And the old man rose to his feet with determina-
tion in his eye, and made a step forward in the direction
of the bridal party.
The minister at this moment had come to that part
of the service which reads: " If there is any just reason
why these parties may not lawfully be joined together
let him now speak or else forever hereafter hold his
peace."
He hesitated for a moment and, glancing up, his
eyes rested on Quinte, who had advanced to the altar
and stood beside Helen.
"I fo'bid de banns!" roared Quinte, in a loud, deep
voice that re-echoed throughout the large church.
198
QUINTE MAKES AN IMPORTANT PROTEST
Everyone was startled but 'the minister, who had
seen from Quinte's look that there was liable to be an
explosion.
" What is that you say r Quinte Brown ?" demanded
his pastor.
" I fo'bid dis marriage, sah. It must not take place."
" For what reason ? On what grounds do you for-
bid this marriage? The minister stood with an eager,
penetrating look at the old man, while the book he held
in his hand trembled like an aspen leaf.
" Llig il'igit, illigitm' chile!" stuttered Quinte.
" What's that you say ? Illegitimate child ? Be
careful, Quinte Brown, what charge you make." Rev.
Charles Picton spoke sternly to Quinte and then looked
at Gertrude Westwood as though apparently to verify
the truth or falsity of Quinte's remarkable statement.
With an imploring look and agonizing, heartrending
cry, Gertrude turned to Quinte and said, " No! No,
Quinte! You're wrong. You've made a mistake. That
is not so. I was honestly born. I heard all about it
last night by one who knew my mother in New York.
She and my father lived very happily together and I was
their first and only child. Oh, wretched creature that I
am! How can I endure so shameful a charge by dear
old Quinte, who has always been a true friend to me
up to this moment. You are misinformed, Quinte Brown,
and I can prove it by Squire Clinton."
These hysterical sentences of Gertrude's caused
Quinte to look at her with surprise, and when she con-
cluded he made certain strange grimaces and gestures,
but at length managed to say :
" No, Miss Gertie, not you ! not you ! Quinte doesn't
mean you, deah chile! You am all right. Golly, what
a bad mistake dat am!"
199
THE OLD LOYALIST
" Who is an illegitimate child, Quinte Brown ? Speak
quickly !" demanded the minister, as he walked over and,
grasping Quinte by the shoulder, rudely swung him
round as though endeavoring to bring him to his senses.
" Dat man dar, Horace O'Malley," said Quinte, in
a loud, scornful voice, holding on the altar with one hand
and pointing with outstretched arm and finger towards
Horace Sullivan.
"What's that you say, you infernal liar?" Horace
yelled, at the top of his voice ; and then, rushing over to
Quinte's side, caught him by the coat collar and glared in
his face with the look of an angry beast, at the same time
drawing back his other clinched fist as though about to
strike him.
" I say youah name is not Horace Sullivan, but
Horace O'Malley, which was youah mudder's maiden
name befo' she married youah fader, Jake Sullivan. Yo'
was bo'n mo' dan a yeah afo' dat marriage, so youah
name's not Sullivan at all, but Horace O'Malley. Did
yo' nebber heah dat befo' ? Specs not. Well, dat God's
truf, an' Quinte Brown can prove it, too."
"What proof have you of that statement, Quinte?"
asked the minister, with an anxious questioning look, as
he disengaged Horace's hand from Quinte's collar and
parted them, fearing there would be a crime committed
by Horace within the sacred precincts of God's house.
" Proof, yo' say, sah?" said Quinte, with a sneering
laugh at Horace ; " why de whole neighbo'hood know'd
all bout dat fac' 'specially de ol' folks. Youah own dad
an' mam, Charlie Picton, will tell yo' what I say am
true. He's a basta'd, suah as youah bo'n, an' unfit to
stan' in de same chu'ch as Miss Gertie, let alone to
marry her. Once mo' I say I fo'bid dis marriage an'
200
QUINTE MAKES AN IMPORTANT PROTEST
you dar' not pronounce dem man an' wife, Charlie Pic-
ton, if you specs to go to heben when you die."
Horace walked back defiantly to Gertrude's side,
and turning to the minister, cried aloud in a perfect
frenzy of rage:
" It is false, sir false as hell and I demand that
you proceed instantly and complete this marriage and
pay no attention to the ravings of that crazy old devil's
imp, Quinte Brown, who ought to have kicked himself
out of this world under the hangman's noose many
years ago."
" I dare not proceed, Mr. Sullivan," answered the
minister, firmly, as he closed the book. " In the face
of such a grave charge against your mother, I am com-
pelled to wait and investigate. Any man has the right
to prefer a charge and forbid your marriage if he knows
of any serious impediment. The charge made by Quinte
Brown is a serious one indeed, and if proven true, your
illegitimate birth would certainly render you ineligible
for this marriage contract. But the woman herself has
a voice in this matter. What do you say, Miss West-
wood? Shall we proceed? Do you still desire to be-
come the wife of Horace Sullivan?"
Horace quickly turned to Gertrude, hoping she would
remain firm in her purpose, and in order to spur up her
resolution at this critical moment, whispered in her ear :
" Remember your sacred promise, Gertrude ; the fate
of the Clinton family; the property you will possess in
your own name! Be true; be mine, Gertie, and we'll
defy the whole world."
Gertrude, pale as death, glanced up at the minister,
then, turning so as to squarely confront Horace, said
with all the bitterness she could command, "Scoundrel !
Villain !" and fell in a swoon to the floor. ,
201
THE OLD LOYALIST
" Thank God ! Oh, how thankful I am, Gertie, that
this marriage, which would have been so disastrous, has
been averted," cried Helen, as she knelt by her side,
fanned her brow, took the clammy hand in her own and
tenderly watched over her.
Horace gazed for a moment at the sad sight before
him. Then, without making the least effort to assist
in restoring life to the prostrate body of the one he had
professed to love, asked the minister for the mortgages
and left the church with awful curses, and vowing ven-
geance on Quinte Brown. In another minute he drove
out from the shed, furiously whipping his spirited team,
and dashed towards home with such a terrific speed that
everyone in the neighborhood seeing him pass declared
his horses were running away and that he was drunk
or crazy.
Charlie Picton caught Gertrude under the arms, and
with the assistance of Helen carried her from the church
to a spot of green grass in the shade outside. Leaving
Helen to attend her, he rushed away bareheaded to a
neighboring house and soon returned with a bucket of
water. They bathed Gertrude's forehead, sprinkled her
face and rubbed her body, and soon had the satisfaction
of seeing her begin to revive.
" Where is he ?" was Gertrude's first question on
regaining consciousness, after staring here and there
with a frightened look, and then setting her eyes upon
Helen.
" Gone home, Gertie, dear, and I am so glad that it
did not take place," said Helen, with a cheerful, happy
look.
" Thank you, Quinte," muttered Gertrude, and she
tried to extend her hand to the old man standing beside
202
QUINTE MAKES AN IMPORTANT PROTEST
her, wiping his eyes and blowing his nose, and revealing
all the signs of utter despondency.
"Dar, now, bless youah bones, Miss Gertie, don't
look so pale like dat an' scar' ol' Quinte to def. Golly,
I'se glad to see youah purty eyes open once mo', 'cause
I was afeared youah was dead." Quinte grasped Ger-
trude's hand and kissed it again and again.
" Thank you, Helen. Thank you, Mr. Picton. You
were both kind. There, let me sit up. Oh, that is much
better. I am not married at all! How strange! I
thought this was to be my wedding day, but it's more
like a funeral. Where is Curtis? I thought I saw Cur-
tis. No ! No ! It all seems like a dream. I thought it
my duty; but I must have been mistaken. You were
right, Helen. Did he not stay to help me when I
fainted? I did not think he was so heartless. I'm so
glad it's all over. There, Helen, dear, I'm all right now,
only just a little swimming in my head. There, that
pillow is fine. I'll just have a wink or two of sleep, and
then and then we'll all go home."
Rev. Charles Picton had folded his coat and made a
comfortable pillow upon which the poor, exhausted girl
found refreshing sleep, amid the chattering of many
swallows under the eaves of the primitive white church.
Old Quinte sat down on the ground beside her and
fanned her face and brushed away any flies that dared
to intrude, meanwhile muttering an old, familiar
lullaby, as though again putting a baby to sleep as he
was wont to do in the days of long ago in the Loyalist
log cabin on the shore of the bay.
The minister and Helen sat in the shade at a little
distance and, in a low voice, so as not to disturb the
sleeper, discussed the whole matter of Gertrude's con-
templated marriage. He now learned for a fact what
203
THE OLD LOYALIST
he already suspected, that Gertrude had intended to sac-
rifice herself in order to save the Clinton family from
the ruin and disgrace which Horace had threatened.
" What made you so nervous, Mr. Picton ? I never
saw you so overcome before," asked Helen, after some
time had elapsed.
" My whole nature strongly rebelled against the
marriage, Helen, and yet I was powerless to raise a
finger in protest. My duty was plain and clear as an
ordained minister of the gospel ; but as a warm, personal
friend of Gertrude's, every fibre of my being rebelled
against joining her to that horrid creature. Hence the
conflict waging within me, which doubtless was the
cause of the agitation you observed. I was never more
grateful to anyone in my life than to Quinte when he
forbade the marriage. It seems providential that you
brought him along with you this afternoon, Helen."
" Do you think Quinte is right in what he claims?"
"I haven't a shadow of a doubt of its truth, when
Quinte states it for a fact. He has always known the
Sullivan family; but, strange to say, none of them have
ever been friendly to Quinte. Of course I shall be care-
ful to have his statement verified by others who will
remember the circumstances, but I feel we can rest
assured Quinte has made no mistake."
When Gertrude awoke she declared her refreshing
sleep had rendered her quite herself again. The carriages
were brought out and the parties returned home in the
cool of the evening. As Quinte rode with the minister
he had an opportunity to explain in more minute detail
some matters of particular interest to Rev. Charles Pic-
ton, concerning the Sullivan family in the early years
before he could remember. He helped Quinte out of
204
QUINTE MAKES AN> IMPORTANT PROTEST
the carriage at the Clinton gate and watched the gather-
ing clouds in the sky above him as he slowly drove west-
ward to his quiet home, deeply meditating upon the
cause of the many disappointments of life so common to
all mankind, and wondering what kind of a world it
would be if every wish and desire of every individual
were immediately gratified.
205
CHAPTER XV.
A VIOLENT SCENE IN THE OLD LOG CABIN.
Horace Sullivan did not drive home, but stopped
at the village hotel, and demanded that his team be put
away and fed. He called for a room and locked himself
in, and, throwing himself on the bed, thought over the
whole situation. Fear of the truth of Quinte's state-
ment led him to abandon his original intention when
leaving the church of going direct to his mother and
confronting her with Quinte's charge. With all his
conceit and bravado, Horace was morally a coward,
lacking even sufficient courage to investigate to its full
extent so important a question as one which materially
concerned his birth and reputation.
The overmastering influence governing the young
man at this juncture was hatred and revenge. Ringing
a bell, he called for glasses, a pitcher of water and a
bottle of rye whiskey, and gave strict orders that he was
not to be disturbed.
" What is the matter with Horace to-night, I won-
der?" asked the proprietor during the evening of some
of the men who had gathered in the barroom, and were
having some drinks on account of the five dollar note.
"Why? Where is Horace?" they asked.
" He has gone upstairs to bed, with a bottle of old
rye for his bed-fellow," answered the host, in a tone of
disgust.
206
A VIOLENT SCENE IN THE OLD LOG CABIN
" I heard he was to get married to-day, and take the
steamer this evening," remarked Tom Piper.
"Where did you hear that, Tom?" questioned the
landlord, with evident surprise. "I never heard that
before."
"Why, his mother, Biddy Sullivan, told it at the
store this afternoon to the clerk, Sally Jones, as a great
secret, and Sal told me, but said I wasn't to breathe it
to any person until to-night. So this news is fresh from
the mint."
"I guess there must be something in it," continued
the host, " for he told me this forenoon he was to take
the steamer this evening, and was bound for the Pacific
Coast. There must have been a change in the wind,
however, since then, boys, judging from his present
condition."
" Who was the victim to be ? " enquired Jenkins. " I
thought he must be half daft when he gave me a quarter
to-day for holding his team. Never knew him to be so
generous before."
" Why, Squire George's adopted daughter, the pretty
nurse of Toronto, of course," answered Piper. " Didn't
you see them dancing together at Horace's party? Well,
I did, and I saw her go up with him to the top balcony
of the house, where, I suppose, they billed and cooed like
turtle doves, and got engaged."
"Great Scott!" ejaculated the landlord. "Surely
Gertie Westwood wouldn't marry Horace Sullivan. I
used to think that possibly Gertie and Curtis would get
spliced, but the old saying is true, ' There's many a slip
'twixt the cup and the lip' We never can tell what's
going to happen next, can we boys ? The next thing, we
may hear Jenkins is married."
" I've been seriously considering matrimony for some
207
THE OLD LOYALIST
time," gravely replied Jenkins, the old bummer, which
remark caused a loud burst of laughter.
" The affair must have been patched up in a hurry,
eh, boys ? " continued the host. " It didn't come off,
however didn't materialize, as Horace would say
because I saw the girls and the minister and old Quinte
go home, after Horace went upstairs to bed. Well,
there's as good fish in the Bay of Quinte as ever were
caught, so here's another drink at Horace's expense, and
may he have better luck next time."
All hands filled their glasses to the brim, clinked
them together, and drank to the health of the disap-
pointed bridegroom. Thus the evening was spent with
drinking and song and many jokes concerning the wed-
ding that was to have been. At last the merry ones
departed, and the host closed the bar and retired for the
night.
Passing Horace's door, he knocked lightly, but
received no response. He tried the door and found it
locked. He could hear the heavy breathing of the occu-
pant, and remarked:
" I guess Horace will sleep till morning, from the
mile-a-minute gait he's going it now," and passed on to
his room.
That night Gertrude Westwood was disturbed by a
terrible dream. Quinte Brown was in trouble, and was
calling to her for help. It seemed so real that she found
herself shaking from head to foot when she awoke. She
sprang out of bed, and, peering out of the window, could
discern that the night was dark and cloudy, with occa-
sional flashes of lightning, and there was a dull roar of
distant thunder. Quinte's weird, plaintive call for help
was, in imagination, still ringing in her ears, and she
could not shake it off.
208
A VIOLENT SCENE IN THE OLD LOG CABIN
" I wonder what's the matter ? " cried Gertrude,
aloud. " I'm not dreaming. I'm fully awake. There's
a thunderstorm coming on. The lightning is very vivid.
Quinte must, indeed, be in trouble, and I must go to him
without a moment's delay. He surely was calling me."
Pulling her bedroom slippers on her feet and catching
up a light shawl, which she flung around her shoulders,
Gertrude quietly opened her bedroom door, glided noise-
lessly through the hall, down the stairs, out of the front
door, and sped away down the lawn, across the road and
along the pathway leading to the shore of the bay. The
wind was blowing a gale in her face from the south.
The forked lightning illuminated the whole sky for a
moment, followed by such inky darkness that she could
scarcely keep the path. The bellowing thunder made her
shiver more and more as each peal came nearer and
nearer.
Her long, black hair streamed loosely behind, and on
her bare head and face the heavy raindrops spattered.
Still, she rushed along with all the speed she could com-
mand, determined to reach Quinte's cabin, if possible,
before the breaking of the impending storm. She
stumbled against a small mound of earth and fell head-
long to the ground. She managed to protect her face,
but her hands and arms and knees were bruised, and her
whole body was badly shaken by the heavy impact.
Again, she regained her feet, and hastened on until
she heard the loud splashing of the waves on the shore.
Almost breathless, with her heart beating like a great
force-pump, Gertrude stood still and listened, with her
hand to her ear to aid in catching the words.
A loud, angry voice could be heard inside the cabin.
She quietly crept to the door, and, looking in, saw a sight
that made her blood run cold. There stood Horace Sul-
14 209
THE OLD LOYALIST
livan beside Quinte's bed, with his back to the door, hold-
ing in his left hand a lighted candle, and in his right a
revolver pointed at Quinte's head. Quinte was lying
motionless on his back, with his face turned toward his
would-be assassin.
"Are you ready to go?" cried Horace, in a harsh,
rasping voice. " If not, you had better make your peace
with God instantly, for in another minute you shall die,
curse you, and your body shall then be sunk to the bottom
of the bay, at the end of the wharf, where you threw my
grandfather in and killed him when I was a boy. I've
not forgotten your murderous deed, Quinte Brown, and
now I mean to avenge my grandfather's death, as well
as to make you suffer for telling those hellish lies about
my mother and thus preventing my marriage. What say
you, Quinte Brown, before you die ? Do you admit your
guilt?"
Gertie realized in a moment from Horace's attitude
and the tone of his voice that there was murder in his
heart, and yet she dare not move for fear he would shoot
her as well. She listened breathlessly to Quinte's reply,
without moving a muscle, and ventured a little closer.
" Quinte did not kill Captain Mike, nor did he tell
any lies 'bout youah mudder, Horace nuffin but de truf,
so help me God; an' as fo' bein' ready to go to heben,
why, bless yo', Horace, ol' Quinte's been ready fo' a
hund'ed yeahs or mo', an' knows fo' suah dat ' if our
earthly house ob dis tabernacle were dissolved, we hab a
building of God, an house not made with han's, eterna
in de hebens.' Can yo' say dat, Horace?"
"Don't take time to quote Scripture, you lying olc
hypocrite ! You need not try to make me believe you ar<
a saint, ready for the skies. Pray to God, or to the Holy
2IO
A VIOLENT SCENE IN THE OLD LOG CABIN
Virgin, or whoever may be in charge up there, to forgive
your sins. You must beg my pardon, too, before you
die, for your falsehood about my mother, who says there
is not a word of truth in what you said to-day to Charlie
Picton.
" Did youah mudder say dat, Horace Sullivan ? "
" Yes, certainly. What else could she say in reply to
your infernal lies? She says I was as honestly born as
any man in this Loyalist settlement. Now, what have
you to say?"
" I say youah mudder lies, Horace Sullivan, if she
said dem wo'ds," Quinte replied, in a low, solemn voice,
which Gertrude could, however, distinctly hear, notwith-
standing the roar of the wind and the splashing of the
waves.
" Dare you call my mother a liar, you black villain ?
Then die, curse you ! " shouted Horace, in a perfect
frenzy, and fired his revolver point blank into Quinte's
face. Horace recocked his revolver, but before he had
time to fire again, Gertrude sprang through the doorway,
rushed to the bedside, and fiercely struck up the hand in
which he held the deadly weapon.
Another report, clear and sharp, rang through the
cabin, but the bullet this time went wide of its mark, as
the revolver fell to the floor. Quick as a flash Gertrude
stooped, grasped the weapon, cocked it, pointed it at
Horace's head, and cried, defiantly, "Move another step,
you vile murderer, and you are a dead man ! "
" For God's sake, Gertie, don't shoot don't shoot !"
pleaded Horace, who, frightened and subdued like a
whipped cur, was now ready to cringe at her feet.
Without taking her eyes off Horace, Gertrude asked
the question, " Quinte, are you hurt ? Did the first bullet
strike you?"
211
THE OLD LOYALIST
" No, Miss Gertie, t'ank de good Lord ! Fse not
hu'ted at all jes' a little scratch on Quinte' s fo'head.
Skull too t'ick, me tinks, fo' dat bullet. Don't shoot
Horace, Miss Gertie. Let him go, de mean cow'd. Some
day he'll repent an' ask youah pa'don an' mine, an'
p'r'aps de good Lo'd will fo'gib him fo' all his sins."
" Shame on you, Horace Sullivan," cried Gertrude,
with flashing eyes and scathing tones, as she still covered
him with the revolver, and took a step nearer.
" By sophistry and threats you would compel me to
marry you. Failing in that, through a merciful Provi-
dence sending Quinte Brown to my relief, you would
now, under the cover of darkness, add the terrible crime
of murder of an innocent man to your other sins.
Shame on you, I say! Down on your knees and ask
pardon of us both, here and now ! Then leave this cabin
yea, this neighborhood before to-morrow's rising sun,
or the emissaries of the law shall fling you into a felon's
cell. Down on your knees, I say, you craven coward,
and ask forgiveness."
Dropping on his knees and quaking with fear, the
blear-eyed bully of a few moments before humbly
pleaded : " I beg your pardon and forgiveness, Miss
Westwood ; and yours, Quinte Brown. I shall leave this
part of the country, I promise you, this very night, and
I shall trouble you no more. I swear it, so help me
God," and he raised his right hand aloft to confirm his
oath.
" That will do, Horace Sullivan. Arise ! And now,
before you go, let me assure you that Quinte told you no
lies. What he said was literally true, as I have since
verified by those who know all the circumstances. I
cannot express how profoundly thankful I am that I
have been saved from the clutches of such a fiend in
A VIOLENT SCENE IN THE OLD LOG CABIN
human shape as you to-night have proven yourself to be.
Go, and may God have mercy on you, and influence you
to become a better man from this day forward."
Horace slowly backed out of the door without utter-
ing another word, clutching his hat in his trembling
hand, and then quickly vanished into the black darkness
of the night.
213
CHAPTER XVI.
THE CALL OF DUTY.
The storm at that moment broke furiously over the
cabin. Gertrude dropped her weapon on the bed, bolted
the door, closed the window blinds, and then by the aid
of the candle Horace had left on a stand by the bedside,
examined the wound on Quinte's head, which she found
to be not at all serious.
She took a basin of water and washed the blood from
his face, due to the scratch of the bullet wound, saying :
" I'm so glad you were not badly hurt, Quinte, by that
terrible man, and that I was able to get here in time to
save you."
"Golly, Miss Gertie, dat was a clos' shave. What
made yo' come jes' in de nick ob time?"
" I was dreaming about you, Quinte, and thought I
heard you call for help, and rushed down as fast as I
could."
" Suah enough, Gertie, de good Lo'd knows when
His chile needs help, and sends His deliberer in time to
obercome de enemy. Dat's what He's doin' ebery day
fo' His elect."
" Do you suffer any pain ?"
"No, honey; dat wound's no mo' den a good-sized
flee-bite. I mean dem big, ol' fashioned flees we used to
hab in de days when dis country was young."
"Do you think Horace would really have shot you
dead that second time, Quinte, had I not raised his arm ?"
214
THE CALL OF DUTY
" Suah as youah bo'n. I could see it in his eyes.
Horace nebber liked Quinte since his grandfather, Cap-
tain Mike died, an' so dis was a good chance to get rid ob
de ol' black coon."
" Well, we've upset his plans to-day to destroy us
both, Quinte, and I think he will be glad to leave the
country now, fearing we shall have him arrested for
attempted murder. However, I mean to stay right here
and keep watch until morning, for fear he does come
back again."
As Gertrude thus spoke she threw the basin of water
outside quickly, rebolted the door with a shudder, and
then began to tidy up things in the room.
" You mus' be col', chile. Jes' get a quilt out ob de
closet dar, honey, an' wrap yo'self up good an' wa'm."
" Thank you, Quinte. I believe I am somewhat
chilled."
Gertie did as requested, and soon made herself com-
fortable in the old armed rocker, which she pulled up
alongside Quinte's bed in such a position as to allow her
to look into his wrinkled face and kindly eyes.
" Why, this is fine, Quinte ! Just like being back in my
old ward in the Toronto Hospital, caring for one of my
good-natured patients. Some of them were extremely
cross, and so it was a great pleasure to find a nice one
like you occasionally."
" I s'pose yo' see some purty tough sights up dar,
Miss Gertie, in dat big hospital, whar dey take so many
people ?"
" Yes, indeed. As you say, I have seen some painful
sights and sad death scenes. But it's wonderful how
often men pull through when you think there isn't a
ghost of a chance for them to live. Some people seem
to have nine lives, like the proverbial cat, and you,
215
THE OLD LOYALIST
Quinte, must be one of them, for I have heard you tell
of other narrow escapes you have had from death."
Then, by way of passing the time and quieting her
unstrung nerves, Gertie related many of her hospital
experiences, amusing and sad, until she and the old
servant had almost forgotten their recent personal adven-
tures. Their conversation soon turned to the church
event, and Quinte enquired about the papers Horace
Sullivan had handed to Charles Picton. Gertrude
explained the matter to the old man, who appeared to be
mystified by the fact that she had consented to marry
Horace.
" Oh, I see !" said Quinte. " Horace was buying yo\
den, fo' de price ob his fa'm, Miss Gertie, jes' like Mas'r
would buy a horse?"
" Well, Quinte, I'm afraid you are very close to the
truth, when I come to think of it. I can see it now in
all its hideousness, but at the time when Horace almost
forced my consent to marry him by threatening to throw
Squire Clinton and his family on the street, I thought I
was under obligation to make this sacrifice for him who
has done so much for me. I cared nothing personally
for Horace's wealth, Quinte; I can say that with a clear
conscience, and was giving up all my future happiness,
for I could never have loved him never, mever, never !"
"I t'ought so, Miss Gertie. I didn't jes' know de
facts; but I felt in dese ol' bones ob mine dat a big
mistake was bein' made, an' den, Miss Gertie, came de
t'ought how to stop dat marriage, an' I had to scratch dis
ol' head ob mine to tink ob some plan, an' den, golly, I
t'ought ob de bery ting dat knocked Horace higher dan
Gilroy's kite!"
" I fear Horace will now have his revenge, however,
and turn us all out of doors. I shall tell Squire Clinton
216
THE CALL OF DUTY
all about it as soon as I go home. I'm sorry I did not
take Helen's advice."
" Horace can't turn dis ol' niggah out ob his hole.
Miss Gertie, 'cause I've de deed ob dis ol' cabin an'
ga'den to de bay shore, an' yo' all can come an' lib wid
ol' Quinte. Golly, wouldn't dat be fine? I'd wean my
plug hat ebery day den, 'cause I'd be de landlo'd an yo'
white trash de servants."
" I'm surprised, Quinte, but at the same time am
delighted to learn you are the actual owner of this cabin
and lot. When did you get it?"
" Oh, 'bout fifty yeahs ago, when Mas'r Clinton's
fader built de big house up on de road whar Mas'r
now libs. He wanted me to move up dar, too, but I
said, ' No, dis place am good enuf fo' ol' Quinte.' That
made Mas'r Clinton laugh loud an' long, an' he said,
1 All right, Quinte ; I'll gib yo' a deed ob de place, an' if
yo' eber find a wife I'll make good provishun fo' yo'
bof.' "
" Well, well ! That is fortunate, indeed. Did you ever
think seriously of getting married, Quinte? How ridicu-
lous for me to ask you such a silly question !"
" Bless youah soul, honey, 'deed I did. I was
in lub, suah as you' bo'n, an' spected soon to hab me
bride, but "
" When was that, Quinte ? You never told me about
it."
"Dat was in de yeah 1800, when I was de finest
young coon in all dis distric'. I fell head ober heels in
lub wid a beau'ful colo'ed gal dat wo'ked at Mas'r
Picton's, in dis neighbo'hood. She came f'om Kingston,
an' I cou'ted her fo' a long time, an' tol' her she was an
angel, an' took her out fishin' in de bay in my ol' punt,
an' walked wid her to church sometimes on Sunday.
217
THE OLD LOYALIST
My ! but she made dis hea't ob mine fluttah like a leaf f o'
weeks an' months, an' I was lubsick suah, fo' I could
not eat or sleep, t'inkin' 'bout my lubly Dinah. I 'specs
Dinah lubbed me, fo' she acted silly, too. I was jes'
gettin' ready to p'opose to Dinah, when glo'y Hallelu-
jay! what should she do but go off an' marry a low-
down black niggah coachman in Kingston. She libed
down dar, so I jes' went straight down on de boat, an'
I saw her dad an' mam, an' tol' dem how bad I felt at
losin' my deah Dinah. Dey only laughed at me, an' said
Dinah always was a fickle chile, but dat it was now too
late, as Dinah was away on her honeymoon. I felt ver'
bad, Miss Gertie, fo' a long time. I nebber saw Dinah
no mo', no' did I eber lub anuder gal. I hope dat coach-
man used her well. I 'specs she's dead now an' gone to
heben, an' dat we'll meet some day again in de sweet by
an' bye, but I'd jes' as soon dat oder black coon wouldn't
be libin' next dooah to Dinah an' me."
Thus Gertie unconsciously touched a tender chord in
the old man's heart which vibrated again with surprising
activity after the lapse of three-quarters of a century.
With many reminiscences of olden times did he continue
to interest and amuse his nurse, while the candle burned
low in the old brass candlestick and the night hours
chased each other away.
With the first appearance of dawn Gertrude left the
cabin, and, retracing her steps up the pathway through
grass saturated with the night showers, she reached her
home and bed, and slept for many hours, with nothing to
disturb her peaceful dreams.
Horace Sullivan immediately left the settlement, and
the Clinton family for the time being were not disturbed.
The Squire and Mrs. Clinton were deeply grateful when
they learned how Gertrude had escaped from marrying
218
THE CALL OF DUTY
Horace. They now insisted that she should remain at.
home at least for the balance of the year, and Gertrude
was constrained to comply with their request.
The leaves of autumn were falling and the chilling
winds were reminding the people once more of the
advance of the ice king from the north, when on a certain
afternoon, as Gertrude sat with the Squire and Mrs.
Clinton by the fireside, Helen came in from the post
with a letter from Walter Earle, written at his engineer-
ing camp on the north shore of Lake Superior.
Descending from her room a half-hour later, Helen read
part of Walter's letter aloud, as follows :
" I am very sorry to be compelled to say that Curtis
has been severely hurt, and that the company's physician
and surgeon, Dr. Thorp, who has been faithfully attend-
ing him, advises me that his life depends largely upon
the care we give him during the next several months. He
is in too weak a condition at present to remove from
camp, and as navigation closes soon, it is very probable
that we shall be obliged to attend him here until the boats
begin to run next spring.
" You will be surprised and pained to learn that the
foul deed was done by our old acquaintance and neighbor,
Horace Sullivan, whose largest railway contract at the
present time is on my division.
Horace returned some weeks ago from his holidays
in a very bad condition. He had been drinking heavily,
and they had to carry him from the steamer to his camp.
Some of the attendants on the boat told me he had been
on the verge of the D. T.'s, and thought from his raving
he must have been getting married, and that he certainly
must have been concerned in some shooting affair. How-
ever that may be, his foreman here, a very good man
named Saunders, told me they had a hard time with him
219
THE OLD LOYALIST
in camp trying to pull him into shape; that he was ugly,
even fiendish, and threatened the lives of several in the
camp.
" Dr. Thorp attended him occasionally, and told me
confidentially that he thought Horace would stand
watching, which, in other words, meant his mind was
giving way.
" Curtis was engaged a few days ago measuring up
the work in a certain rock-cutting on Horace's contract,
and had his task about completed when Horace came
along. He was in a very bad humor, and immediately
started to dispute with Curtis about his estimates, con-
tending that more work had been done during the month
than Curtis had given him credit for. When Curtis
endeavored to explain that the reason for a less depth of
cutting in that month to the preceding month was due
to many of Horace's men having quit work, he began to
curse and swear and called Curtis many vile names.
" Horace called us all paupers, and said that the j
Clinton family would be on the street in a few days ; that
he would be in possession of the farm, and he supposed
the family would be compelled to go begging for a living.
" Curtis was about to move on with his work, when
Horace, realizing his efforts to provoke him had proven
abortive thus far, now made a remark which instantly
aroused him.
"I must be explicit here, Helen, however distasteful
it may be to you, so that you may understand that Curtis
was justified in doing what he did. Horace told Curtis
that he had better beware of Gertie Westwood, for from
what he had personally seen of her conduct in Toronto,
and from what he had learned on good authority of her
mother's record in New York, Gertie was not just what
THE CALL OF DUTY
she should be, and would likely get some man into
trouble.
" Curtis threw off his coat in a moment, and, con-
fronting Horace, said : ' Take that back, you lying scoun-
drel, or I'll smash you !'
" With a sneer and a vile oath, Horace replied : ' I'll
dare a Clinton pauper to lay a finger on me.'
" ' Apologize ! Retract !' Curtis demanded, ' or else
take the consequences. I'll not allow you to speak with
such disrespect of any good woman, and especially of a
member of our family, whose reputation I know to be
spotless and pure take back what you said, Horace
Sullivan.'
" ' Horace Sullivan never takes back anything he
says,' was the haughty answer.
" Then, like a flash, Curtis struck Horace between the
eyes, and he fell like a log to the ground. After some
time he recovered, and Curtis then assisted Horace to his
feet, but not a word was spoken. Presently Horace
reached down slowly to the ground, as though he had
dropped something. Seizing an angular stone as large
as his fist, lying at his feet, Horace quickly flung it with
all his strength and struck Curtis on the head.
" As Curtis fell, stunned and bleeding, to the ground,
Horace walked away, the men said, with a fiendish smile,
saying : ' I guess that will quiet that Clinton cur.'
" The men carried poor Curtis to camp in an uncon-
scious condition, and I immediately sent a messenger
down the line for Dr. Thorp, whom I knew to have been
in the vicinity that day. The doctor reached ' here at
midnight. I was never so glad to see anyone in all my
life. He was an old McGill man, with a good experience
as hospital surgeon, and a much wider experience in the
field where accidents are continually happening, and I
221
THE OLD LOYALIST
had confidence that he would soon know if there were
any chances for Curtis.
"In a few minutes he had the blood washed away,
and with delicate instruments raised a fractured part of
the skull, which was. pressing against the brain. How
thankful I was a little later when Curtis opened his eyes
and spoke, you can well imagine. He has slowly
improved since then, and to-day he is taking some nour-
ishment and is resting quite easily, but he is still in a very
precarious condition.
" Dr. Thorp calls as frequently as his duties will per-
mit. Instead of taking the risk of moving Curtis out
before navigation closes, he recommends that, if possible,
I bring a nurse into camp to look after him this winter,
for it will take several months at least before he can be
entirely cured.
" Possibly you may not be able to find a nurse who
is willing to come, but if you can, we will take good care
of her and make her as comfortable as our poor quarters
will allow, and we will pay her liberally for her services.
Perhaps you had better wire Gertie, at Toronto, and
ask her, if possible, to send someone by the next steamer
leaving for the north shore."
Helen, with eyes brim full of tears, ceased reading the
unfinished letter, and, with faltering voice, asked : " Can
anything be done, Gertie?"
As the latter made no reply, Squire Clinton de-
manded, eagerly : " Gertrude, dear, can you think of
anyone who would be likely to go?"
" Could you not wire the superintendent to-day,
Gertie, to send someone from Toronto?" suggested Mrs.
Clinton, with tears streaming down her face.
There was no answer from Gertrude, who, without
a trace of a tear in her eyes, looked first at one and then
222
THE CALL OF DUTY
at another as they spoke, and then out of the window to
a passing sail on the bay.
" You are thinking of what Horace said about you,
Gertie?" Helen sorrowfully remarked, as she looked at
her friend.
" No, indeed, Helen ; I was thinking rather of what
things I shall require to take with me," Gertrude replied,
in a half -meditating mood.
" Take with you where ?"
" Why, to the north shore of Lake Superior, of
course. Where else would you suppose?"
" Gertie Westwood, will you really go to my dear
boy yourself?" cried Mrs. Clinton, and then threw her
arms around Gertrude's neck and wept like a child.
"Do you mean it, Gertie? Thank God, for my
brave little woman!" exclaimed Squire Clinton, as he
arose from his chair, walked over and, stooping down,
kissed Gertrude tenderly on the forehead.
"Do I mean it? Why do you ask? There's only
one thing for me to do under the circumstances. I
wonder that you express such surprise. Why was I
trained for a nurse do you suppose? Who could care
for Curtis like I can, and bring him through this crisis?
What have I ever done for this family in return for all
that has been done for me? Nothing absolutely
nothing. I've only been a burden and a care all my life.
Surely it is time I did something in return for all that
has been done for me.
" Come, Helen dear, and assist me in packing my
trunks, for I must take the next train for Toronto, in
order to catch that steamer for the north shore, and
there's not a moment to lose."
There was a great stir in the Clinton home for the
223
THE OLD LOYALIST
next two hours in getting Gertrude ready for her long
trip.
The evening steamer up the Bay of Quinte on its way
to Belleville picked up but one passenger at the wharf
in Adolphustown. It was Gertrude Westwood, who
managed to catch her train for Toronto, and on the fol-
lowing day her steamer across Lake Superior, to a
country which, to her, as to many others in those days,
was a veritable terra incognita.
234
CHAPTER XVII.
CAMP LIFE IN THE WILDERNESS.
Walter Earle's engineering camp was situated in
a delightful location on a sequestered inlet on the north
shore of Lake Superior, convenient to a dock where an
occasional steamer called with railway supplies.
Entrance to this bay was effected through a com-
paratively narrow channel, on either side of which an
almost unbroken rocky ridge extended east and west
until it intersected the bold, rugged shore line of the bay.
Thus a large inner lake was formed inside the reef,
which was practically uninfluenced by the fierce storms
that sometimes raged without on this largest body of
fresh water in the world. Huge cliffs of granite and
diorite extended back from the water's edge, ascending
in elevation as they receded from the shore and cul-
minating in peaks of considerable height, which, for the
most part, were devoid of trees.
Deep ravines extended down between the ridges in
general parallel lines with outlets at intervals along the
shore of the bay. In the valley of one of the larger of
these ravines, on a level, grassy plateau, a few feet
higher than the level of the bay, stood the engineering
camp, consisting of a few small, rudely-constructed log
shacks and several canvas tents of various sizes and
shapes, with their entrances facing the bay. A broad
view of the latter could here be obtained, and also a
glimpse of the large lake beyond through the navigable
channel directly opposite the camp,
is 225
THE OLD LOYALIST
At the rear was a grand view of a great amphitheatre
several miles in radius, with bald peaks and fringes of
jack pinejfcimarack, spruce and cedar on the slopes and
in tlje ravines.
A roadway wound up from the dock near the camp,
between boulders and ledges of rock, through graded
muskegs and over temporary bridges to the railway
dump and rock cuttings, which could be seen here and
there at intervals skirting the shore of the bay.
The noon-hour had arrived in camp and Walter
Earle, a slim, dark-complexioned and fairly tall English-
man, wearing a full beard closely cropped and pointed
at the chin, sat at the head of the table in a large canvas
dining tent. The survey party was engaged in satisfying
the demands of exceedingly vigorous appetites, induced
by incessant outdoor exercise from day to day. Conver-
sation at such times was not very brisk, and the only
comments heard at the moment were in reference to
the merits of a prodigious, steaming rice-pudding, which
all were sampling with evident relish.
As the cook came in from the log kitchen adjoining,
with a large tin tea-pot in his hand for the purpose of
renewing the supply of tea in the cups on the table, he
said : " Gentlemen, I'm happy to inform you the
steamer is coming from God's country beyond the lake,
and is now in sight."
Instantly there was a loud cry of " Hurrah ! Bravo !"
and a bolt and dash for the outside of the tent by all
the members of the party.
"Well done, the Monitor!" shouted Walter Earle,
the chief, after bringing his field-glass to bear upon an
object far out in the lake.
" The last boat of the season," cried one of the chain-
men, and he turned a handspring upon the smooth turf.
226
CAMP LIFE IN THE WILDERNESS
" Hurray for letters and papers from home !" roared
the cookee, as he waved his apron high in the air, the
better to express his joy. m
The party stood there for some time gazing out upon
the tranquil lake through the offing, where a cloud of
smoke could be distinctly seen in the distance, indicating
the approaching steamer.
" Now, my brave lads," said Walter Earle, " this
is Saturday afternoon, and as you doubtless will wish
to send some letters off by this steamer, you may have
a half-holiday to write to your mothers and sweethearts."
" Hip ! Hip ! Hurrah !" was the general response
from the survey party to this generous act on the part
of the chief, and soon all members thereof were seated
here and there in their shacks and tents with letter pads
on their knees writing to the dear friends at home.
Those who have not been beyond the confines of
civilization and thus deprived of the privilege of re-
ceiving and sending mail for weeks and months in suc-
cession cannot properly appreciate the peculiar sensation
that comes over one when intercourse with the outside
world is about to be interrupted for a long period, or,
on the other hand, when it is again renewed after weary
months of waiting.
Walter went over to one of two small, new log
shacks standing side by side and a little apart from the
rest of the camp. On a cot in one corner, lay a stout,
beardless young man, of fair complexion, square, de-
termined chin, large mouth, kindly blue eyes and a high,
intelligent forehead. His face was pale and haggard
and his head was partially bound up with a white cloth.
He had been a fine type of physical manhood a few
weeks before, but now Curtis Clinton was exceedingly
ill.
227
THE OLD LOYALIST
Walter closed the door softly, and taking a seat be-
side the cot, spoke to the patient in a kindly voice:
" Well Curtis, old boy, how are you feeling to-day?"
" Not very well, Walter. This terrible pain in my
head is almost unbearable at. times. It has been very
severe to-day, but I'm now feeling some better. I think
Dr. Thorp might loosen the bandages a little, which I
am sure would give me some relief."
" Yes, possibly it is a little too tight. We'll see what
can be done, Curtis, when the doctor comes to-morrow."
" What was all that cheering about outside just now,
Walter?"
" The Monitor is in sight and will shortly be in."
" That's good news, surely, for this lonely camp."
" Yes, and the boys are kicking up their heels in
great glee. They're always exceedingly glad to get
home news, and you and I are disposed in the same
manner just now, eh, Curtis?"
" Yes, indeed. Do you think there will be any word
from Helen or Gertie about a nurse?"
" Without doubt there will be a letter, but whether
or not a nurse will be aboard is the important question."
" I'm afraid there wasn't time for Gertie to send a
nurse on this steamer, even if one had been available."
" Perhaps not, my dear fellow, but we'll hope for
the best and try to believe they have sent one of some
kind or other until we learn the contrary to be true."
" If none has come, Walter, would it not be well
for me to try and go back by this boat? I think I could
stand the voyage all right."
" No, Curtis, that is out of the question, as Dr.
Thorp has advised against it. He thinks if the trip
should be a rough one as it probably will be this time
of the year you would not be able to pull through.
228
CAMP LIFE IN THE WILDERNESS
So if Gertie has not been able to send a nurse, why, I'm
a pretty good one, you know, and the boys will assist
me, and together we'll look after you this winter and we
will make a whole man of you again by next spring,
with Dr. Thorp's valuable help."
" You have been very good and kind to me, Walter,"
Curtis replied, with tears in his eyes. " And if anything
should happen "
" There, there now, old boy, I know your concern
about the people at home, should anything happen you,
and that mortgage, and all the rest of it. But rest
assured you will soon be all right again and then you
and I will clear matters all up. Don't allow yourself to
fret about the home affairs. You must compose your-
self and get well, and then, together, we'll turn a small
part of this old world around to suit us better than it
does to-day.
" Keep up your courage, Curtis, for ' all's well that
ends well,' and my word for it, you will yet see a happy
outcome from all our apparent misfortunes."
At that moment the whistle of the steamer rever-
berated throughout the bay and re-echoed from the dis-
tant, lofty peaks at the north.
The welcome sound was heard by the busy members
of the engineering party and in the various contractors'
camps throughout the district, and soon a large con-
course of men and teams were moving in the direction
of the dock. Walter Earle was early on hand and
eagerly scanned the passengers on the deck L of the ap-
proaching steamer. Not a female form could be dis-
covered, however, and his hopes in consequence sunk
low. They were laborers of various nationalities, and
in different groups were jabbering away in their respec-
229
THE OLD LOYALIST
tive tongues as they drew near and beheld the move-
ments of the people and teams on the shore.
As soon as the steamer touched the dock, Walter
jumped aboard and cordially shaking hands with the
Captain, inquired, " Have you a nurse on board as a
passenger, Captain Cook?"
" Yes. You better believe we have, chief," replied
the Captain, with animation, " and she's a jolly fine girl,
too, and sings like a meadow lark. I wish we could take
her back with us on the return trip. Pity to leave so
fine a girl here in the wilds of this beastly country with
a lot of heathen surveyors and contractors."
"Where is she, Captain?" demanded Walter, as he
looked here and there among the throng now descending
from the deck and walking out on the gang-plank. " I've
not yet seen a woman aboard your steamer."
" There she comes down the stairs with her grip
the brightest, jolliest young woman I've met in a month
of Sundays."
Walter looked intently for a few moments at the
approaching young lady, who, with head down, was
picking her way along the narrow passage between
crates, barrels and bags of freight. She glanced up as
she drew near, and looked him full in the face. Walter
shouted, and as he rushed to her side, he exclaimed :
" For the love of mercy ! Can it be possible ? Gertie
Westwood, as sure as I'm born."
" You seem to be much surprised, Walter. Were
you not expecting me? I thought you were in need of
a nurse, but perhaps you were expecting a better one."
Walter threw his arms around Gertrude, kissed her,
took her grip, gave her his arm, and together they walked
up to where the Captain was standing at the gangway,
with a broad grin on his face, indicating considerable
230
CAMP LIFE IN THE WILDERNESS
personal pleasure in witnessing this meeting of old
friends.
I wish to thank you, Captain Cook, for your kind
hospitality," Gertrude said, pleasantly. " And now
allow me to introduce my adopted brother, Mr. Earle.
Walter, this is Captain Cook, who has been extremely
kind to me and has materially assisted in making this a
most pleasant voyage across the lake."
" Chief Earle and I have had the pleasure of know-
ing each other for some time, Miss Westwood," re-
turned the Captain, with a laugh, " but I was not aware
until this moment that he, too, was your adopted bro-
ther. I thought the latter had been wounded and you
were coming over to nurse him."
" Oh, that's another adopted brother, Captain. You
see, I'm fortunate in having two. How is he, Walter?
How is poor Curtis ? We've all been very anxious about
him."
Gertrude's anxious, penetrating look was quickly dis-
pelled by Walter, who said, " Curtis is improving slowly
but surely, Gertie, and he will be greatly cheered when
he finds that the best nurse in all the world has come
to take care of him and to assist in restoring him to
health."
" I should think as much, Miss Westwood," remarked
the Captain. " And if you ever think of adopting
another brother, who doubtless will require to be waited
upon some day, just kindly remember me."
" Very well, Captain. I shall be pleased to file your
application and to notify you when there is a vacancy,
as you business men are in the habit of writing to those
seeking employment. That is the best encouragement
I can give you at the present time."
" Thank you, Miss Westwood. I shall not forget
231
THE OLD LOYALIST
your promise," Captain Cook replied, with a hearty
laugh, as he raised his hat and bade them good-bye.
Gertrude's baggage was sent up in a wagon, while
she and Walter walked, engaged in earnest conversation
about the patient and the friends at home.
A few minutes later, Walter opened the door of
Curtis's shack and said in great glee, " I've good news
for you, Curtis, the nurse has come, and she's the very
best one Gertie could find in Canada."
" I'm very glad, indeed, to hear it, Walter." And
Curtis's face immediately brightened with the pleasing
information. " Where is she ?"
" At the door, waiting for your permission to come
in. I just stepped in first to see if you were ready to
admit her."
" Walter was scarcely able to restrain his abounding
joy when conveying the good news to the invalid.
" Yes, Walter, I'm ready, and you may as well bring
her in at once and let her see the cross old bear she
must endeavor to appease this winter. I hope she is
good-natured or I fear she will have a hard time with
me.
He then opened the door and beckoned for the nurse
to come in. Gertrude followed closely behind Walter
with her pocket handkerchief covering her face, until
reaching the cot she stepped aside, and quickly kneeling,
covered Curtis's eyes with both hands, and with her
face close to his, said, in a low tone, "Curtis Clinton
must now endeavor to tell the name of his nurse by the
sound of her voice. I wonder if he can do it? All
ready go !"
There was perfect silence for a few minutes. Then
Curtis slowly raised his weak arms, and entwining them
around the nurse's neck, replied, with choking voice and
232
CAMP LIFE IN THE WILDERNESS
tears of joy coursing down his cheeks, as he drew her
face to his : " There's only one voice like that, Gertie,
in this world, and it's by far the sweetest voice I ever
heard. I can't tell you now how glad I am that you've
come, Gertie, but I'll try to do so some other time."
Walter suddenly remembered he must see about
getting Gertrude's baggage put into the adjoining shack,
and so he quietly withdrew, his face radiant with joy
over the happy reunion he had just witnessed.
It was a great comfort and relief to him to feel that
Curtis would now be almost certain to get well under
Gertrude's skillful professional supervision.
There was much bustle and confusion that afternoon
about the dock unloading and hauling away supplies for
the various camps. Mail bags were exchanged, and then
before night closed in Captain Cook, having that part of
his cargo discharged belonging to this port, steamed out
of the bay, leaving behind a large company of lonely
people entirely dependent upon their own resources for
existence and entertainment throughout a long solitary
winter.
After Gertrude's trunks were opened, quite a trans-
formation took place in the sick chamber and in the
adjoining shack. Walter and his men lent a hand, and
under Gertrude's directions the walls were papered with
some well-chosen rolls she had selected in Toronto. Then
chairs, stands, tables, shelves and brackets were im-
provised from such rough material as was available.
Mattresses made of sacks were stuffed with hay, upon
which were placed several thicknesses of double woollen
| blankets, with which the camp was liberally provided.
Gertrude now brought forth spotless sheets, pillow
I slips, counterpanes, stand covers, shelf drapery and table
Ispreads, unframed pictures, an alarm clock, books and
233
THE OLD LOYALIST
magazines, music and song-books, all of which, skill-
fully adjusted as only a woman's hand can do, wrought
a wonderful change in the appearance of things.
The nurse's shack was made a duplicate of the one
occupied by her patient, and the two were connected
by a cord with a bell attached to the end which ter-
minated in the nurse's apartment. There was a small
sheet-iron stove in each shack, and now the novelty of
a wood-box was made to grace a corner of each cabin.
Before darkness set in everything had been satis-
factorily arranged, and Walter called all hands and the
cook to admire the two neat and trim buildings, the
furnishings of which the nurse had so quickly and in-
geniously evolved out of chaos.
Walter and his men now took Curtis in hand, and
after shaving, bathing and clothing him in one of a pair
of choice night robes Gertrude had brought him, re-
moved him to his luxurious cot.
The nurse, looking very pretty in her cheerful,
familiar, professional garb, remarked while standing be-
side her patient's bed, looking around the room : " Dear
me, Walter, I wish I could have brought another trunk ;
there are so many things still lacking."
" Why, it seems to me you have brought nearly
everything under the sun. I wonder how you got it all
in your trunk. Surely, there's nothing more required.
This place is now a veritable paradise. What do you
think, Curtis. Will it do?"
" It is perfectly grand and complete in every detail,
and I'm as happy as a prince."
" I'm so glad you are well pleased, Curtis," Gertrude
quickly replied.
" I shall now regard you, Gertie, as my ministerin
angel, sent from a better world to restore me to health.'
234
CAMP LIFE IN THE WILDERNESS
" Very well, I shall be pleased to be regarded as your
ministering angel, and since I have no wings you need
have no fear of me flying away. I'll always be at the
command of yonder tiny bell, which you must ring loud
and long, if you get no immediate response, for I'm
sometimes a wonderfully heavy sleeper."
" But you have clever hands, and they are worth far
more than wings," Curtis replied, with a smile. " As
for the bell, I hope its services will not be required very
often."
Now the supper hour arrived, and Walter gave the
nurse a seat on his right at the table, and then, while
all were standing, introduced her to the various members
of his staff. They became seated, grace was said by
Walter, and soon all became deeply engaged in one of
the greatest enjoyments of life of camp life, in par-
ticular.
"Why do you have such a long table?" remarked
Gertrude, while the meal was in progress.
" Our family, now, is comparatively small, nurse.
When we were locating our railway we were numerous
enough to fill this table comfortably, but now, on con-
struction, our staff has become greatly reduced."
" You must have an excellent cook, for it seems to
me everything tastes better than at home. Just look at
this delicious bread what a thin crust! I would give
anything to be able to bake such good bread as that.
I fear it's becoming a lost art."
" Yes, we think Johnson, our cook, is about perfect.
It may be interesting for you to watch him bake bread
and pastry, and learn something of the tricks of the
trade while here in camp."
" I shall be delighted to learn, chief, for, as you know,
2 35
THE OLD LOYALIST
that part of my education has been sadly neglected of
late years."
" How are you on snaring rabbits and shooting
partridge ?"
" I'm afraid I would not be a success at either
trapping or shooting, as I've never had any experience.
However, there's nothing like trying."
" All right, nurse, we'll give you plenty of practice,
and some day we may find an opportunity for you to
knock over a moose or elk or cariboo to replenish our
larder."
" Wouldn't that be grand ! What would the friends
at home think if they heard that I had shot a moose?
I would be a heroine there, for sure. I never shot even
a chipmunk in all my life."
" Of course, you'll want to see the men drilling and
blasting in the rock cuts, the teams and scrapers on the
dumps and the Dagoes with their shovels and barrows
in the muskegs. I think we can find a few things to in-
terest you, Nurse Westwood, even in this so-called God-
forsaken country."
" Yes, indeed, I'm sure you have, and you must not
forget the lovely tamarack and spruce gum, for which
my mouth has been watering as we rude girls used to
say at school ever since you sent Helen and me some
in your birch-bark letter, many moons ago."
" Very well, nurse. We'll set our nets in the bay to- |
morrow and catch some whitefish, which you'll declare,
I'm sure, to be the most delicious fish in the world.
They form a very important part of our diet in this
camp."
" Why, it seems to me that you people do not fare
too badly out here, after all. If you feed me on all these
delicacies and my appetite maintains its present propor-
236
CAMP LIFE IN THE WILDERNESS
tions, I fear my friends will not recognize me when I
return home next spring. I never ate so ravenously,
it seems to me, in all my life, as I've done to-night."
" Why, that's not a ragged patch, nurse, to what
you will be capable of doing a little later on," Walter
answered, seriously, and then everyone laughed heartily
as Gertrude pretended to gasp for breath at the thought
of so improbable a condition.
The conversation became general and spirited after
this, Gertrude's first meal, in camp. Her cheerful,
pleasant manner had the effect of thawing out the stiff,
shy, lonely young lads ranged on either side of the
table.
After retiring to their tents, the young men declared
the nurse to be one of the most charming young ladies
they had ever met. The ice was broken that evening,
and a friendship begun which led to many amusing, in-
teresting and helpful conversations at meal hours to the
various members of the survey party during- the suc-
ceeding weeks and months in which Nurse Westwood
was one of their number.
237
CHAPTER XVIII.
TWO IMPORTANT PAINTINGS.
Curtis Clinton, happy in the consciousness of Ger-
trude's unexpected arrival in camp, very perceptibly
revived in spirits. That evening, with Gertrude and
Walter seated around his cot, after having partaken of
an unusually hearty meal, he listened attentively to an
account of all the leading events that had transpired at
home since his departure. Helen in her letters had said
not a word in reference to Gertrude's experiences in
Adolphustown. The nurse soon realized how deeply
interested both the young men were in the most trivial
affairs of the family, and consequently, after talking
some time of generalities, she entered into all the minu-
tiae of her contemplated marriage with Horace Sullivan.
Although humiliated and ashamed, she was determined
to particularly explain the part she had played in what
had almost proved to be a tragedy, so that Curtis and
Walter might have a clear conception of her real motive
in consenting to become the wife of such a miserable
creature. It was a trying ordeal, causing her at times
to shed bitter tears, but that did not prevent her from
telling the whole truth concerning the lawn party, the
unwilling engagement, the scene at the church altar, and
her rescue from taking the fatal step by Quinte Brown.
" Thank God, Gertie, for Quinte's providential inter-
vention at that moment," said Curtis, in a husky voice,
but with a great sigh of relief. " Quinte's mission in
238
TWO IMPORTANT PAINTINGS
this world seems to have always been to protect and
defend and assist the Clinton family."
Then Gertrude, having finished that part of her story,
related the incidents of the eventful night when, awak-
ened from her dreams, she hastened to Quinte's cabin, in
the midst of terrific thunder and blinding lightning, and
rescued him from the hand of the assassin. It made her
shudder and tremble as she told the story, with that
detail and vividness that only a participant could employ.
When she finished, Walter Earle grasped her by the
hands and said : " Gertie Westwood, you're the bravest
girl I ever knew, and Horace Sullivan is the worst scoun-
drel. Would to God we had known this when he came
back to this locality."
" Where is Horace now, Walter ?" asked Gertrude.
" He left these parts immediately after he struck
Curtis, and has not returned since. His men think he
has gone up the line, farther west, where he has other
contracts, but of this there is no certainty."
" Probably he thought he had killed Curtis, and is
afraid to come back."
" Doubtless that's true, Gertie, for there was cer-
tainly murder in his heart when he threw that large,
ragged-edged rock so fiercely at Curtis's head."
"Will you have him arrested when he returns?"
" I certainly would were it left with me ; but, unfor-
tunately, Curtis does not approve of having him arrested,
imprisoned, and condemned to the penitentiary, which
he so justly deserves."
" Horace is certainly a dangerous character to be at
liberty, and he may yet do you both bodily harm."
" That is my fear, Gertie, when he comes back again,
especially if Curtis is able to be around again. From
what you have told us of his character, Horace would
239
THE OLD LOYALIST
not hesitate a moment to, shoot Curtis if he had a gun
convenient."
"I gather from what Dr. Thorp says I'll not be
around very soon," answered Curtis, " and so there's no
immediate fear. I would prefer thrashing the sneak to
within an inch of his life to seeing him arrested. Per-
haps I'll be able to do it by the time he gets back to this
neighborhood."
"There, Gertie, that's the best evidence we've had
yet that our mutual friend Curtis is getting better. His
Clinton righting blood is beginning to assert itself."
" Had you known Horace better, Curtis," Gertrude
remarked, " you would not have exposed yourself as you
did after you knocked him down. He has an uncontrol-
lable temper, and is therefore very dangerous. I'm
awfully sorry that I was the cause of the quarrel which
led to your sad misfortune."
" I have no regrets over that matter," Curtis replied,
" only that I did not knock him down again before he
was able to pick up a stone. Oh, that I had then known
his reason for trying to defame your good name, Gertie
He would not be roaming at large to-day."
" Shall we have him arrested, Curtis ?" interrogated
Walter.
" No, Walter, my good fellow. It's all a thing of t
past now, and Horace has trouble enough with his men
heaven knows. Perhaps some day he will repent of al
his vile deeds and come and ask our forgiveness. What
does the Good Book say? ' Blessed are the merciful, for
they shall obtain mercy.' "
" You are certainly very charitable and forgivin
Curtis, considering all you are suffering on his account,
Gertrude replied, with gratitude, as she noted the ma;
nanimous and forgiving spirit manifested by her patient.
240
TWO IMPORTANT PAINTINGS
"The coming of my ministering' angel must be the
cause, for already I feel like loving my enemies," Curtis
quietly answered.
" Speaking of Horace's trouble with his men,"
Walter resumed, " I wouldn't be surprised to see him
have a row with the Dagoes on his return, as they claim
he has not paid them for two months for their work, and
they are now loudly clamoring to get hold of him.
They're a bad lot when they get angry. Horace had
better pay them up or else keep out of their way."
" What are Dagoes ?" asked Gertrude, with a look of
surprise.
" Foreigners Italians graders, with shovels and
barrows in the muskegs. There are a hundred or more
of them in Horace's employ, and they are ready to camp
on his trail when he returns."
" Is he making a great success of contracting? He
pretends to be very wealthy, and the people at home
regard him as one of the strongest financial men in that
part of the country."
" No ; I should say he was not a howling success,
judging from what I've heard," replied Walter. " He
has a swelled head, and thinks what he doesn't know
about contracting is scarcely worth knowing. He has
launched out far beyond his depth, I fear has a large
number of contracts here. and there, and has taken the
work at too low a price. I would not be surprised some
day to see Horace in the hole. He's not half as good a
business man as was his father, Jake."
" What do you mean by ' in the hole' ? You have
some new expressions, I observe, Walter, since you left
our quiet country home."
" Pardon my slang, Gertie. We rude creatures some-
16 241
THE OLD LOYALIST
times say ' in the hole ' or ' in the soup ' when we mean
failure or bankruptcy a more expressive term, you see."
" Oh, I understand ; and should failure result here,
would that involve his farm and the Clinton farm at
home? ,,
" I fear it would ; but perhaps his affairs may turn
out better than my anticipations. He must have had
considerable wealth after his father's death; but it does
not take long sometimes to dispose of a fortune in this
contracting business, especially with a man of Horace
Sullivan's type at the head of affairs."
" Had any move been made to dispossess grandfather
of the homestead before you left, Gertie?" enquired
Curtis, aroused at Gertrude's last question.
" No, Curtis, but your grandfather had grave fear*
that such action would be taken when he heard Horace
had purchased the mortgages."
" Perhaps Horace left in too big a hurry to give any
instructions to his solicitors," Curtis suggested, "which
may account for the delay."
Walter renewed the fire by placing more wood in the
stove, and then started another line of conversation with
the following question:
" I was deeply interested in what you stated in your
story a little while ago, Gertie, about a certain gold locket
containing a miniature painting of one of your ancestors
who once lived in Virginia. You said you got the paint-
ing out of your trunk that night and took it into Squire
Clinton's room and induced him to tell you the story of
your mother. Tell me, please, where you obtained that
picture?"
" It was among those other keepsakes my mother
gave me in New York. I laid the locket away, and had
not thought of it for years until that sleepless night, when
242
TWO IMPORTANT PAINTINGS
thoughts of my dear mother took possession of me,
which naturally led to a recollection of the old gold
locket and the splendid miniature painting it contained.
" Where is that picture now ?"
" In the bottom of my trunk, in the other building.
Would you like to see it, Walter?"
"Very much, indeed. Would it be too much trouble
to get it to-night? I'm exceedingly interested in seeing
it, since you say it represents an old Virginian."
" No trouble whatever it will only require a minute
or two."
" Very well, Gertie ; and while you're bringing a por-
trait of your Virginian ancestor I will bring a painting
of one of my forefathers who lived in Virginia many
years ago. We'll compare them, Gertie, and see which
is the better looking."
" Where did you get your painting, Walter ?"
" It was given me by my father in England when I
was a very little boy. I'll just run over to my tent and
get it out of the bottom of my trunk."
They were gone but a few minutes, and then each
returned with a beautiful, large gold locket. Walter
brought the light to Curtis's bedside and held his locket
up beside Gertrude's, so that Curtis could see them both.
The similarity was quickly observed by all parties.
" Why, they are just alike," Curtis remarked, with
great surprise. " How can that be ? Now open them,
and I'll soon tell you which of your old Virginian ances-
tors is the handsomer."
Each locket was opened by its respective owner and
held close to Curtis's eyes, in order that he might com-
pare them. Not a word was said for a few moments, as
Curtis gazed earnestly first at one and then at the other,
343
THE OLD LOYALIST
and then, taking them in his own hands, held them
closely together and gazed long at them in perfect silence.
" Well, Curtis, which is the winner ?" Gertrude
at length asked, with a smile. " But perhaps you're too
modest to be a judge. You need not fear that you will
wound our feelings, eh, Walter? Out with the truth,
then, Curtis."
" They are identical. What does this mean, Walter,
Gertie? Can it be that you are both descendants of the
same family? God grant that it may be true, but it
seems utterly impossible, as one of you came from the
States and the other from England."
" They are pictures of one and the same man, Gertie,
as sure as there's a God in heaven," cried Walter, in an
ecstasy of joy, as he passed the lockets over to Gertrude,
after he had made a long and close comparison.
" Well, well ! Wonders will never cease ! How can
this be? They certainly are exactly alike," declared
Gertie, with great exultation, after she had carefully
compared them. " Why, then, we must be related by ties
of blood. What a grand discovery! I'm pleased to
know you, Walter, as my long-lost ninety-ninth cousin."
" Nothing could give me more pleasure this moment, |
Gertrude Westwood, than this wonderful discovery,"
Walter rapturously replied, and then the two clasped
hands and shouted and danced joyfully around the room,
reminding Curtis again of their happy childhood days in
the old Loyalist home on the Bay of Quinte.
" How strange," Curtis remarked, " that those pic
tures should come together from different parts of t
world, remain side by side in our old home all the
years, and that only now, in this far-away wilderness, a
we finding out that you two have sprung from a comm
244
TWO IMPORTANT PAINTINGS
ancestry. Surely ' There's a divinity that shapes our
ends, rough hew them as we will.' "
" It's a very hopeful sign, indeed, when my patient
already begins to quote Shakespeare," Gertrude replied,
with much joy and merriment.
Shortly afterward Gertrude said : " Do you not think,
Curtis, that Walter should tell us something about his
early life and how he came by that picture ? Never a
word has he told us of his boyhood days in England,
throughout all the years we have known him."
"Yes, I will be interested now, Gertie, in knowing
something about the early life of this illustrious cousin
you have just discovered. I do not remember that you
ever told us much, Walter, about your family, or how
you came to this country."
" It's not a very long story," Walter began, " and
since you are more interested now than ever before in
my family history I will endeavor to tell you something
about it, even though it may prove a dreary recital of
sad events.
" My first recollection is of a kind father and mother
in a very comfortable home. But my father drank
heavily, and after a prolonged spree now and again,
would find all his earnings were spent. He was a news-
paper man in London a writer on one of the large
morning papers but he lost his position through exces-
sive drink, and about that time my mother, a beautiful,
sweet, Christian woman, died in premature childbirth. I
can just remember her death, and how sorrowful my
father was. After that father went to the bad very fast,
and I, the only child, scarcely more than an infant, had
to go out and sell papers on the street, in order to earn a
few pennies to live on when father was drunk.
" We moved from our comfortable apartments into a
245
THE OLD LOYALIST
miserable, dirty room, in an old ramshackle tenement
house. There we lived in a half-famished condition for
some time, and my father drank up the most of his own
slight earnings and mine as well. I often came in wet
and cold and hungry, with not a morsel in the room to
eat, and would crawl in bed beside father, lying there in
a drunken stupor, and would cry myself to sleep.
" When he was sober he was kind and good, and
would talk to me about my dear mother, and tell me what
a good woman she was, and would sometimes kneel
down beside me and pray earnestly that God would shield
me and protect me, and preserve me from the curse that
had ruined him. He would pray, too, that he might be
preserved from the temptation to drink, in order that he
might be a help to his poor little boy. He would reform
for a time, but his old chums would get round him and
lead him off to drink again.
" I loved my father when he was sober, and would
kiss and plead with him not to drink any more, and he
would promise me he would try and give it up, and I
know he did try very, very hard time and again.
" It was on one of those occasions when sober that
he took this gold locket from his pocket, showed me the
portrait within it, and told me it was painted by his
great-great-grandmother, Margaret Earle by name, a
wealthy woman in high social life, whose husband was a
member of King George's Government. I remember the
name Margaret Earle very distinctly, and that the por-
trait was of her father, who lived in Virginia. I cannot
recall the name of her father, and think perhaps it ws
not mentioned to me.
" This picture and locket my father told me had
handed down from family to family, and that he, Walter
Earle, had been given it by his father just before the
246
TWO IMPORTANT PAINTINGS
latter's death. 'And now, Walter, my dear little boy,'
said he to me, ' I shall not live very long in fact, I fear
my end is very close at hand. I have nothing to leave
you except this locket, which I now give you for fear I
might be induced some time to pawn it for drink. You
must be careful to preserve it, as I and all your fore-
fathers have done, and when you are through with it,
pass it over to your son, or next heir, if you have any.
There has been an unbroken chain thus far in the descent,
and our name has always been above reproach. I've
been a spendthrift, and sent your poor mother to a
premature grave through my reckless life, but outside of
that no stain rests upon your good name, and I trust a
kind Providence may shield you, and that you may grow
up to be a good and useful man, and that some day this
gold locket may be of some service to you or your
family.'
" Soon after this father died and was buried, I pre-
sume, in a pauper's grave, and I was turned out on the
streets of London. I made a little money by selling
papers enough to keep body and soul together but
became more and more ragged and filthy, until my
strength at last gave way and I had to be supported by
my pals, the other newsboys, who were about as poor as
I was. They were very kind to me, however, and brought
me food and drink every day in the old rookery where a
number of us slept. Fortunately, the good care they gave
me, and the lovely spring sunshine, enabled me to pull
around again, and I went out on the street once more to
earn my living. I did very well, grew much stronger,
and was able to help some of my pals when they got
sick.
" One day I was standing in front of a big store with
some papers under my arm, looking at the beautiful
247
THE OLD LOYALIST
sights in the window and shouting to the passers-by,
when a lady came out from the store, unhitched her
spirited horse, stepped into her dog-cart, and drove away.
In some unexplainable manner she dropped her lines,
which fell to the ground. Her horse did not heed her
shouts of ' Whoa ! whoa ! whoa ! ' but started to dash
up the crowded street.
" I saw what had taken place. Throwing down my
papers I ran with all my might, caught hold of the lines,
and by pulling and sawing the horse's mouth managed
to stop the animal before it had gone very far, and thus
prevented what might have proved a very serious acci-
dent. I handed the lady the lines, and she said : ' Thank
you, my dear little boy. You are very brave and kind,
indeed, and here's a coin for you; and I will be glad if
you will tell me your name and address.'
" I noticed it was gold, and I was sure it was a
sovereign.
" No, thank you, lady,' I said. ' I'm glad I had the
chance to save you from getting hurt. I do not want any
pay. Give your money to some sick child. I was once
very sick myself, and nearly died.'
" She looked at me for a moment with a pitying
smile, and then said very kindly : ' You're a little gentle-
man, even if you are ragged and dirty. Get in beside
me here and I'll take you home with me and buy you a
new suit of clothes, and perhaps we can be of some ser-
vice to each other in the future. Jump up here quickly.
You're a fine fellow.'
" Well, Gertie and Curtis, you better believe a Lon-
don street Arab knows a good thing when he sees it, and
you may rest assured Walter Earle was not long in
climbing into that dog-cart, even if I did refuse to take
her shining gold coin.
248
TWO IMPORTANT PAINTINGS
" The kind lady drove to some bath-rooms, took me
in, and ordered them to make me thoroughly clean and to
cut my long hair. She then drove away, and presently
returned with one of the nicest suits in all of the city of
London. When I was dressed up like a young prince
she took me home with her. Of course, I took good care
to get my gold locket and jack-knife out of my old
clothes before they threw them into the fire, where I had
the bath.
" It was a grand home I was taken to, and the lady,
Mrs. Cross, made me her servant. I was a messenger
boy and bellboy, and did lots of things about the house,
and had a nice room all to myself and plenty to eat and
pretty picture books, and all that heart could wish for.
" Mrs. Cross and the family were all very kind to me,
and I did my best to please them, and I seemed to suc-
ceed pretty well.
" One day, after I had been there some weeks, Mrs.
Cross said to me : ' Walter, how would you like to go to
Canada? I have a friend out there who writes me that
if you care to go out he will undertake to find you a
respectable home, where you will have a chance to be
educated and to get a start in life. I like you for my
servant very much, but a smart, young boy out in Canada
may become more than a servant in fact, he may
become one of the great men of that country. So, having
your future welfare in mind, I wrote my friend about
you, and told him what kind of a boy you are, and he
has requested me to send you out. But you must use
your own judgment, Walter, and decide for yourself. I
merely make the suggestion and you must now make
your choice.'
" Of course, I could not say no when Mrs. Cross had
been so kind, and when I had a desire to see something
249
THE OLD LOYALIST
of the world. The result was I took the next steamer
for Montreal, with my passage paid to Kingston, some
money in my pocket, and a letter of introduction to Mrs.
Cross's friend, the member for Kingston and the present
Premier of Canada.
"I had a great trip across the ocean, and enjoyed
every minute of the time, as I was never seasick and
always had a good appetite. I was sorry when we
reached Montreal. There I was packed aboard a stuffy
train for the west, and in a few hours was landed in
Kingston. After some delay, I found the member's office,
and handed him my letter. He shook hands with me
very cordially, after reading the letter, and asked me how
I enjoyed the trip, enquired about Mrs. Cross and her
family, and then would you believe it? our present
Premier took me to his own comfortable home, where I
was treated as his guest, with every mark of civility and
kindness, as though I were as great a gentleman as he. i
" A few days after this my host said to me : ' Walter,
I met an old friend of mine to-day in the city, named
George Clinton, a substantial farmer living some thirty
or forty miles up the Bay of Quinte, who tells me he will
take you home with him, educate you, and treat you as
his own child. He has two grandchildren and an adopted
daughter, all about your age, and fine children they are.
The school is quite near, and he has lots of horses, cows,
pigs, and sheep, and this good farmer says he'll allow
you to ride the geese to water and curry off the hens.
What do you say? Would you like to go and live with
my good friend, Squire George Clinton, on the farm, or
shall I find you a position as a clerk in the city ?'
" My story is ended, for, as you well know, I went to
live with the good old Loyalist farmer, who since that
day has been my staunch friend and benefactor, using
250
TWO IMPORTANT PAINTINGS
part of the proceeds of his farm in these latter years to
give me an engineering education and fit me for my
present duties.
" Can you wonder, then, Gertie, Curtis, that I ven-
erate and love that good man, who has been so kind to
me?
"Of course, I kept the locket with me, and always
laid it away carefully wherever I chanced to be, as my
father advised me to do; but never until this hour did I
learn to value it as I do now, when I find that you and I,
Gertie, through these paintings, can definitely and posi-
tively establish a blood relationship. This not only inten-
sifies our admiration for each other, but it will make glad
the heart of our common benefactor, Squire Clinton,
and all his family, as it has Curtis here, when they learn
the strange, though joyful news."
The evening being now far advanced, the patient,
Curtis, was made comfortable for the night, and then
Gertrude and Walter, bidding him good-night, repaired
to their respective shacks, and a deep, tranquil sleep soon
took possession of everyone in the camp.
251
CHAPTER XIX.
TWO PATIENTS IN ONE SHACK.
Winter closed in early and during the following
weeks Gertrude Westwood found plenty to occupy her
time. She gave her patient the most careful attention,
and had the satisfaction of finding that the serious frac-
ture of the skull in the forehead was healing nicely and
that he was gradually growing stronger.
Dr. Thorp called from time to time to examine and
dress the wound and to give explicit instructions con-
cerning the treatment of her patient.
The doctor and the nurse sometimes had long and
interesting chats about their professional work and ex-
periences, and occasionally Dr. Thorp would tell some
amusing stories of student days by way of breaking the
monotony, and would have the nurse convulsed with
laughter and her patient aroused and looking cheerful.
It was always a comfort and pleasure to see the genial
doctor put in an appearance, and many of his amusing
sayings were discussed in this lonely engineering camp
after he had passed on down the line of railway, cheer-
ing the hearts of hundreds of other diseased or wounded
patients in the various construction camps.
The doctor was an employee of the railway com
pany, and consequently had a field hundreds of miles
in extent in which to operate. He had an advantage
over ordinary medical practitioners in that he was a
" sky pilot " as well. As a matter of fact the medical
252
TWO PATIENTS IN ONE SHACK
degree had been a secondary matter with Dr. Thorp at
college. He was known at McGill originally as a Pres-
byterian " theolog " for several years, and was regarded
a crack sport on the campus, where he loved to mingle
with his fellow-students in their various games.
The college football team was never considered to be
at its best unless Thorp's burly form was present. It
was always a foregone conclusion that he would carry
off certain of the best prizes at the annual sports, in the
various feats where strength and endurance win the day.
He was a keen debater, and some of the boys who
had heard him hold forth in certain outlying districts,
whispered around that Thorp was a good preacher as
well as a debater. Soon it became a custom for the
students to attend in large numbers when Thorp was
announced to preach.
After graduating in theology, he continued his
studies in medicine, already begun, and In due time came
forth from the college as a full-fledged medical doctor,
ready to hang out his shingle.
By this time Thorp was a well-known character in
the social life of Montreal, and certain officials of the
Canadian Pacific Railway Company thought he was a
good man to send out among the thousands of laborers
employed on construction. As that idea was agreeable
to Thorp, he soon found himself at the front with a wide
sphere in which to operate in the dual capacity of a
physician and missionary, for which his education had
specially fitted him.
He had been in the harness for many months when
called upon to attend Curtis Clinton, and from a wide
practical experience and contact with scores of men in
the intense agonies of life, due to all kinds of accidents,
and ofttimes in the hour of death as well, Doctor Thorp
253
THE OLD LOYALIST
had learned what many another good physician has ex-
perienced, that when medical treatment has failed to
prove effective, a brief, earnest conversation on spiritual
things directing the patient's mind to a higher source
of power, to the " Great Physician " Himself has often
brought consolation, and " the peace of Go3 which pas-
seth all understanding," in the last dying moments.
Many a man had Dr. Thorp been the means of lead-
ing from spiritual' darkness into the marvellous light of
God, and at many a lonely grave beside that great Trans-
continental Railway, over which millions of people have
since comfortably glided, did he read the solemn burial
service in the midst of a group of workingmen standing
with bared heads, paying their last respects to a fellow-
laborer who had fallen by the way.
" What is this long roll of paper for, Walter, with
little square and black and red lines?" asked Gertrude,
one day, as she stepped into the engineer's office, where
the chief, seated on a stool beside the table, was engaged
with plans, profiles, cross-sections and estimates.
"That's a profile, Gertie."
" Yes, doubtless ; but what's a profile ?"
" Well, that continuous uneven black line represents
the surface of the ground along the centre line of the
railway as finally located."
" How do you know it does ?"
" Why, we took levels, of course, with an instrument
for that purpose, and finding the elevation at every sta-
tion one hundred feet apart and at certain intermediate
points as well, plotted these elevations on the paper.
Every square horizontally represents one hundred feet
and every square vertically five feet."
" Good. I understand that perfectly. And now
pray what is that red line bending up and down, some-
254
TWO PATIENTS IN ONE SHACK
times running level and often cutting through the black
line which you call the surface line?"
" That's the grade line."
"Well, what's the grade line for, Mr. Engineer?"
" In the construction of our grade or road-bed we
cut down the hills and fill up the hollows, and that red
line marks about where the train will run when the con-
tractors have completed their work. That above the red
line we call ' cuts,' and that below, ' fills,' and in fixing
our grades we endeavor, as nearly as possible, to make
the cuts equal the fills. Where they do not even up we
| borrow ' from the sides to make up the deficiency."
" Why, that's easy. I can understand that like a
book. I thought engineering work was difficult."
"Where did you get that silly impression?" asked
Walter, with a grim smile, as he turned on his stool and
looked keenly at his questioner.
" Why, because you made such a fuss about your
hard studies at McGill in your college days. But look
here, what's this large roll for? Pardon my curiosity,
but I may as well learn it all now since I've made a
start."
" That's a ' plan ' of the line of railway, with a nar-
row strip on either side, on which the general topo-
graphy of the country is indicated, as you see."
"What's that good for?"
" Well, it makes an interesting picture for the officials
in Montreal to look at, and they will insist on having an
endless number of copies of our plans and profiles, no
matter how much work we have on our hands here in
the field. But seriously, the plan is useful, first in assist-
ing us in locating the road, and then in preserving a
record of that location."
255
THE OLD LOYALIST
" No doubt, but what I want to get at is how you go
about doing the work represented by this plan."
" All right, Gertie. Now, observe these straight, red
lines some short, some long joined to one another at
different angles and extending clear across the paper?"
" Yes, my eyesight is excellent and the lines are very
clearly defined."
" Well, the position of these lines was found by
actual surveys with transit and chain, over hills, through
ravines, across inlets of the bay, always keeping a per-
fectly straight line until reaching a certain point, where
the nature of the ground forbade going farther in that
direction, and from thence turning an angle and running
on such a new course as would be more favorable for
the line of railway. Thus a continuous line bending
back and forth in its course has been marked out on the
ground by stakes planted one hundred feet apart and at
every angle point as well, throughout the whole length
of the railway."
" Why, that's as easy as rolling off a log, Walter,
and now, pray, what are these curves for at every angle
of the red lines?"
" If an engine and train of cars could turn a corner
as easily as you can, those curves would not be there;
but, unfortunately, they will not. The wheels will per-
sist in leaving the rails when you desire to move the
train round an angle, unless you bend the rails to an
easy curve. So after finding the first line, we fit in
curves just suited for the purpose at every angle, and
then, abandoning the first line from the point where the
curve meets it up to the point of intersection with the
next line, we grade the roadbed on the curves and the
tangents connecting them, lay the ties and rails thereon
and, presto! the next thing you see is a train of cars
256
TWO PATIENTS IN ONE SHACK
bending gracefully round the curves from one straight
tangent to another and gliding along with all the ease
imaginable."
" What a delightful sensation it is, too, Walter, re-
clining in your Pullman, with a good book in your hand,
and glancing up occasionally to find yourself sweeping
round the shore of some beautiful lake on the one side,
or just avoiding some ugly projecting rocks, or an
immense cliff, on the other?"
" Yes, nurse, that is usually a very pleasant experi-
ence, indeed, and I sometimes wonder how many of
those enjoying the luxury of modern railway travel ever
for a moment consider the thought, toil and privation of
the faithful engineer, who marked out the route, de-
signed the details of trestles, culverts, bridges and tun-
nels, and rendered such travel comfortable and com-
paratively safe."
" Have I learned all about railway location and con-
struction in this short time ? My, but I must be clever !"
Gertrude remarked, with a gay laugh, as she turned to
leave the office.
" There may be a few details, Gertie, you will yet
have to learn before you fully understand a profession
many wise heads have spent the best part of a lifetime in
acquiring, and in which I feel I have only just made a
beginning."
" Thank you very much for your initial lessons to-
day, Chief Earle, and now, after attending my patient,
I will go for a constitutional on Curtis's snow-shoes up
along the grade. I'll be back in an hour or so with a
good appetite for dinner. You may expect me again in
a few days for my second lesson."
But Gertrude was detained somewhat longer with her
patient that morning than usual. She was particularly
17 257
THE OLD LOYALIST
cheerful and happy as she entered Curtis's shack, and
she carried with her a ray of sunshine and happiness to
the patient, who had just awakened from a good night's
sleep and was anxiously awaiting her appearance.
"I've just been learning 'from Walter how to build
railways, Curtis," she said, as she began her usual morn-
ing duties in the sick room, after the first greetings were
over.
" Yes, Gertie, with what result ? Do you think you
can learn the business?"
" Why, I find it's the easiest thing in the world.
Already I know all about plans and profiles, tangents and
curves, grades and levels, cuts and fills, and many other
things too numerous to mention."
" Well done. You must be an apt scholar."
" Yes, indeed that's what Walter has just been
telling me. Soon I shall be an expert on snowshoes, as
well, and I'm going out now for an hour's constitu-
tional."
" I am very glad to hear that, too, Gertie. But best
of all, you know how to bring comfort and joy to a
poor, lonely invalid."
" Oh, but it took me years to learn that, Curtis.
Building railways and snowshoeing are easy compared
with nursing cross invalids. My profession requires not
only ability but tact and patience and skill and unsel
fishness and "
"Have I been very cross, Gertie?" interrupted her
patient.
" No, not extremely so. But I shall expect you to
be very good indeed after you have eaten this nice break
fast I've just brought you, steaming, from the cook's
shanty. Isn't that whitefish tempting?"
" Yes, and your coffee and toast are delicious*"
258
TWO PATIENTS IN ONE SHACK
They chatted away with a vein of humor in their
conversation while Curtis ate his breakfast and the nurse
completed her work in the patient's room.
As Gertrude was about to remove the tray and start
out on her snowshoeing tramp, Curtis took her hand
in his, and, looking into her eyes, said : " Are you in
a hurry this morning, Gertie?"
" Yes and no it depends on circumstances."
" I've something I wish to tell you something that
may surprise you; but I've been longing to speak to you
about it for a long time."
" Really !" Then my morning tramp must be post-
poned."
" Thank you, Gertie. You are indeed kind."
" Is it some pleasant surprise, Curtis, or will it cause
a chill?"
" You must be the judge, Gertie. I will tell you in
a few words. I love you very dearly and trust my con-
fession may not produce a chill. I have always loved
you since we were children, and have cherished the hope
all these years that some day you would be mine. I
cannot withhold this confession any longer, even though
I am an invalid. You can scarcely realize how anxious
I am to know if you love me in return if you will
some day become my beloved wife?"
Gertrude's smiling face became serious as she listened
to Curtis's earnest words, expressing a love she realized
to be genuine and deep and true. She made no reply,
but, sitting on a stool beside him, looked into his kindly
eyes and beyond into the depths of his being, and that
love light, that ne'er was seen o'er land or sea, illumin-
ated their souls, and Curtis read the answer in Gertrude's
tearful eyes.
" Was it a pleasant surprise, Gertie?" he asked, after
259
THE OLD LOYALIST
a few minutes had elapsed, during which not a word
was spoken.
" Yes, Curtis, I believe you, and I return your love
with all the intensity of my nature. I have been yours
at heart ever since you kissed me that Christmas night
under the mistletoe, and have often wondered why, if
you loved me, you did not confess it, as I had no other
means of knowing your thoughts. This, Curtis dear, I
declare to be the happiest moment of my life, and I
shall be proud some day, if you can forget what has
taken place, to become yours forever."
Gertrude dropped on her knees beside the cot. Cur-
tis folded her in his arms and their lips met in a loving
kiss which forever sealed the former contract made in
childhood days under the mistletoe in the old Loyalist's
home.
" I think your patient will recover very rapidly now,
Gertie, dear," Curtis said, a little later, with a happy
expression on his pale face.
" I sincerely hope so," she replied, her sweet face
radiant with joy, " and now that you are really mine,
I shall redouble my efforts to restore my patient to his
accustomed health by cheering him in his lonely hours
in this far-away wilderness-home."
A few minutes later Nurse Westwood, with snow-
shoes on her feet, took the well-beaten path up the
ravine and soon reached the railway grade. Here she
found a fine course for snowshoeing and tramped along
for a mile or more, leaving the imprint of her large
shoes upon the deep and spotless snow.
The morning air was crisp, and the exertion sent the
blood tingling through her veins, and made her feel so
buoyant that she determined upon going still another
mile before turning back to the engineering camp.
260
TWO PATIENTS IN ONE SHACK
Gertrude had not gone far, however, until she came
to a wide ravine where the grade had only been partially
made by the navvies with their wheel-barrows from
borrow-pits in the muskeg on either side.
From the elevation where she stood looking over the
ravine, she could see the camp of these foreigners on a
slight elevation of the grade, in the shelter of a thicket
of spruce and tamarack. She had heard about these
" Dagoes " in camp and had a curiosity to see where
and how they lived. She climbed down the steep in-
cline with some difficulty, and continued her tramp
through the muskeg, where the timber had all been cut to
the width of the right-of-way. The men were not work-
ing upon the grade and not a man could be seen as she
advanced, but their voices could be heard in a great
clatter, apparently back in the thicket behind their
shacks and tents.
Hearing this loud din of voices, Gertrude stopped
and listened, and thought perhaps she had better go back,
as it might not be safe to expose herself unprotected
among these rude, low-bred foreigners. But she was
not a timid girl, and her curiosity to see their camping
place overcame her scruples and fears, so she tramped
on across the muskeg through the deep snow, which
packed firmly beneath her feet.
As she drew near the camp she saw the men, appar-
ently about a hundred in number, all standing together
in a bunch back of the camp, and some two or three
were talking in a very loud voice. Then all joined in
what seemed to be an angry chatter, as they jumped
about and shook their fists at some central person, as
though threatening him with violent hands.
The air was perfectly still. Stopping again and
listening, Gertrude heard someone say, " Yes, yes.
261
THE OLD LOYALIST
I'll pay you every single cent I owe you when I get to
camp. I have no money here, I say. Let me go, and
I shall see that you all get your pay."
Then came the reply, " No, no ! Pay me now ! Pay
me dis minute! Me no wait! Me hang you to tree!
You fool me two, tree, times, pay me an' my men now
quick or up you go."
Then Gertrude heard the loud reply, " I can't pay
you now, curse you. And if you dare to put that rope
round my neck I shall have you and all your men sent
as prisoners to Montreal. Take your hands off me this
minute, I say! Let me go, you infernal, blood-thirsty
Dagoes !"
Gertrude could detect terror and fear in this man's
voice, and determination and anger in that of the Dago
leader, who now replied, " Montreal long way off.
You pay me now, quick, or up you go, an' die, quick.
Pay me, I say, or die, quick quick."
Then the man who was held prisoner tried to break
away and shouted and swore and tried to strike and
kick, but could not free himself from the grasp of the
crowd of angry men. Soon the chatter began again, and
the frenzied men ran to one side and began to pull on
a long rope, hand over hand.
Intense horror and dread seized Gertrude when she
saw that the rope had been passed over the limb of a
tree, that a noose at the other end had been placed around
the man's neck and a handkerchief tied over his face.
Thus the poor creature, writhing and twisting, was
being suspended between heaven and earth. She felt
like screaming at the top of her voice. What could she
do? Did they really intend to hang him? Were they
cold-blooded murderers ?
Up, up he went, slowly but surely, higher and higher,
262
l
TWO PATIENTS IN ONE SHACK
his hands tied behind his back and his legs lashed to-
gether. As she heard the increasing fiendish yells of
exultation from a. hundred throats, she understood the
poor creature's death had been determined upon and a
peculiar sinking sensation crept over her.
Then an impulse suddenly seized her to rescue that
man if possible, even at the sacrifice of her own life.
Throwing off her gloves she quickly sundered the buck-
skin strings of her snowshoes with a strong pen-knife
she carried, and free from this encumbrance, darted
like a deer up the well-beaten path from the railway
grade toward the men, with the open knife in her hand,
and with strong determination in her heart.
The leader, who stood apart from his men and un-
derneath his victim, saw the approaching woman; but
the men, with upturned faces to the suspended creature
now high in the air, not observing her, continued their
hellish yells and still pulled on the rope. The leader
looked with amazement and awe upon the approaching
apparition, as he thought, from the spirit world. But
just as the vile murderer, who had a terrible dread of
ghosts, was about to call upon his men to let go their
hold of the rope and flee, Gertrude, like a flash, reached
up above their hands, and with one stroke of her knife,
severed the small, tense rope.
The suspended victim immediately dropped to the
ground, struck on his feet and fell over on his face.
She quickly stepped to his side, loosened the noose, and
cut the cords that bound his arms and feet. Then, roll-
ing him upon his back, she cut open his collar and shirt
and began rubbing the swollen veins with her bare hands.
The man's face, only partially disclosed owing to
the handkerchief, was black and swollen, and he gasped
263
THE OLD LOYALIST
and struggled in awful agony for a few minutes as
nature began to assume her functions once more.
In the meantime the Italian leader, with his excited
men, clustered around Gertrude in a very threatening
attitude, now that he discovered she was an active in-
habitant of this world rather than a passive dweller in
the kingdom of ghosts. They did not like the idea of
being robbed of their victim, and with hands on the
hilts of their knives, with which weapon every one seemed
to be provided, were giving vent to fierce mutterings
which in language she could not understand, but which
in thought she readily comprehended.
"What are you hanging this man for?" Gertrude
demanded of the leader, who now boldly stepped up to
her as she arose from her stooped position beside the
victim.
" He no pay me an' my men wages long time
no good. Me hang him yet to dat tree. Me make him
pay or die, quick."
" No ! You will not hang him," cried the intrepid
nurse, with all the courage and defiance she could mus-
ter. " I'm a friend of the engineer, Mr. Earle, and I
will see that you get your pay. Who is this poor fellow
you have nearly killed?"
" Contractor Boss Sullivan," said the leader, sullenly.
"He no good."
"What! Not Horace Sullivan?" cried Gertrude, as
she turned in amazement, and cutting away the handker-
chief gazed into the prostrate man's face, which, although
bloated and black, revealed that it was none other than
he.
" Yes, Boss Contractor Horace Sullivan. No pay.
Bad man," repeated the foreman, savagely, as he shook
his fist at the helpless contractor.
264
TWO PATIENTS IN ONE SHACK
" Oh, God ! Can it be possible Thou hast ordained
that I should save Horace Sullivan's life?" Gertrude
gasped, as she recognized the helpless creature writhing
at her feet. " Can it be that my steps have been* divinely
guided to this place to save the life of that miserable
man ?"
Then, turning to the foreman, she nervously cried :
" Where did you find him, sir? Where did he come
from?"
" He come back to camp las' night. Me catch him,
bring him to my camp. Me ask pay, no pay he say
me hang him, bad man no good."
" Where is the Contractor's camp ?"
" Tree, four mile down grade dere," and the leader
pointed in a direction still farther away from Gertrude's
camp, through rocky cliffs and sombre forest.
"What can be done with Horace Sullivan?" Ger-
trude asked herself, aloud. " It will not do to leave him
with this rough gang of men. It might not be possible
to get them to convey him safely to his own camp, and
even if they did the man might die there without proper
care."
While she was thus engaged in thought she heard
Horace groan, and looking round saw that the men
had spliced the rope she had cut in twain, and again
put it over the limb of the tree and were in the act o
putting the noose around his neck preparatory to hauling
him up the second time. Surely they were a desperate
gang, she thought, and something decisive must now
be done.
"Look here!" she said to tne leader, in a kindly
voice, as she endeavored to realize the actual condition
of affairs ; " if you hang that man you will get none
of the money he owes you, and you will all be arrested
265
THE OLD LOYALIST
and tried for murder and every man of you will be hung,
for I will witness against you. But if you will now
carry him to the engineer's camp, where I live, I'll
promise you that as soon as he gets well in a few days
he shall pay you every cent he owes you, or else the
engineer shall pay you, and keep it out of the contrac-
tor's estimates do you understand me, sir?"
" Yes. Do you promise dat, lady?" said the leader,
excitedly, as he ordered his men to keep quiet and leave
the man alone.
" Yes. I promise that, and you can depend upon it."
"Swear, den, lady! Swear you'll pay me dat
money !"
" Very well. I swear to keep that promise, so help
me God," and Gertrude raised her right hand, as she
had seen Horace do on a former memorable occasion.
" All right, lady. We no hang him. We carry
him, go ahead. We bring him fast. We take him to
engineer's camp. Engineers, good fellows no cheat
workmen."
Gertrude had been successful in her negotiations,
and in a few minutes had the satisfaction of binding on
her snowshoes and leading the way back to camp, fol-
lowed by a horde of rough foreigners, bearing Horace
Sullivan in a helpless condition on an improvised
stretcher.
There on a cot in Curtis Clinton's shack, almost
within Curtis's reach, Horace Sullivan was nursed by
Gertrude Westwood for several days until strength was
again restored. Curtis and Gertrude endeavored to be
friendly with the unfortunate creature under their charge.
Horace would say but little, however, and expressed
no sorrow for the injury he had done these friends of
his childhood. Selfishness, jealousy and ingratitude
266
TWO PATIENTS IN ONE SHACK
were still the controlling forces of his nature. He
thought any semblance of humility on his part under
these circumstances would be an everlasting disgrace to
him, the wealthy contractor. In a few days, Horace
sent to his camp for money and paid off the Dagoes,
who at once packed their turkeys and started off for a
new field of operation. Then, as soon as he was able,
Horace rudely took leave of his benefactors by asking
them the amount of their account for services, without
a single expression of regret for his injury to Curtis
or of thankfulness to Gertrude Westwood for saving
his life.
They would not accept a cent of his money, of
course, and all breathed more freely after Contractor
Sullivan had left the engineer's camp.
" The next patient you bring into this ward, Gertie,
will, I trust, be more companionable than the one who
has just left us," Curtis remarked, with a sigh of relief,
and a cheerful smile.
" It has been a trying ordeal, Curtis, for both of us,"
replied Gertrude, " but there is great satisfaction, is there
not, in feeling that we have done what little we could
to help that poor creature in his dire distress? Let us
hope that his latest experience may teach him to become
a better man."
267
CHAPTER XX.
A WELCOME VISITOR TO CAMP.
The weeks and months of winter followed one
another in rapid succession, when, to the surprise of the
survey party, it was discovered that the spring sunshine
was beginning to melt the snow and uncover the bald
heads of the peaks, causing many rivulets to sing cheerful
songs on their way down the hillside to the great parent
lake.
Curtis continued to improve under the skilful treat-
ment of Dr. Thorp and the good care of his nurse, and,
although still confined to his shack, was growing stronger
day by day.
Nothing unusual had occurred to break the monotony
of the lonely camp, except that Gertrude had actually
shot a large bull moose, which Walter had discovered
one day quite near the shacks. She was a little nervous,
and showed some disposition toward "buck-fever," but,
encouraged by Walter, who assisted her in getting the
Winchester in range, she took careful aim, blazed away
and had the proud satisfaction of seeing the monster
moose fall to the ground, pierced through the heart.
One moonlight night after supper, as the trio were
having their usual pleasant chat in Curtis's shack about
camp affairs and the good friends at home, a loud knock
was heard at the door.
" Come in !" shouted Walter, who supposed it was
the cook, desiring to make some enquiries about the
supplies or meals for the morrow. The door opened
268
A WELCOME VISITOR TO CAMP
and an elderly, large, smooth-faced man entered, carry-
ing an old rifle in one hand, an ordinary black leather
grip in the other, with a small bundle of blankets
strapped across his back. His fur cap was pushed well
back on his head, his great coat was unbuttoned, and he
carried his heavy mittens in his hand. Imagine their
surprise when they discovered the visitor to be Squire
Clinton, the one man above all others these lonely people
desired to see.
"Grandfather!" shouted Curtis from his cot in the
corner, and nearly sprang from his bed.
"My good old benefactor!" said Walter, as he
jumped to his feet and rushed to meet him.
" My dear guardian ! " Gertrude exclaimed, and
fairly flew to his side.
" Is supper ready, children ? I'm as hungry as an
old bear when he comes out of his hole in the spring. I
can't seem to get enough to eat in this starvation country
of rocks and trees.
" Lord bless my soul ! I never would have come to
make you a visit had I known it was so far. I'm glad
to find you all looking so well, and to see you so comfort-
able, away out here in this blooming wilderness."
While Squire Clinton was making these remarks he
placed his rifle in the corner of the shack, put down his
grip, unstrapped the blankets from his shoulders, and
then stood for a moment looking at the astonished group
before him, with a broad smile on his handsome, ruddy
countenance.
" Bless your dear old heart !" cried Gertrude, as she
again and again threw her arms about Squire Clinton's
neck. She wept tears of joy as she held him closely,
kissed him, and told him how it gladdened her heart to
see him once more.
269
THE OLD LOYALIST
" There now, Gertie," exclaimed the Squire, with the
old-time, good-natured bluster, when the nurse had set
him free, " that's the roughest usage I've had on my five
hundred mile trip from North Bay. You've sadly dis-
arranged my toilet and nearly shut off my breathing
apparatus, but I'm awfully glad to see you once more,
dear child.
"How are you, Walter? Where did you get that
fierce beard? Hardly would have known you had I met
you elsewhere." Then, turning to Curtis, the Squire
said : " My dear boy Curtis, I'm thankful to God to find
you looking so well, after what must have been a very
serious illness. We've all been very anxious about you
since we heard of your injury, and now I've come all this
long way to see you."
Then, kneeling beside Curtis, the loving old grand-
father patted and fondled him as though he were a little
boy, reminding him of the days of their imprisonment
together in the Fenian guardhouse in Oswego, and many
other experiences on the farm in the years that followed.
"Where in the world did you come from ?" demanded
Gertrude a few minutes later, as Squire Clinton took a
seat beside the cot.
"How on earth did you get here, grandfather?"
asked Curtis.
"Which way did you come from North Bay?"
enquired Walter, who was thinking of the long, ungraded
gaps along the hundreds of miles of railway now under
construction.
" There now, children, it's very easy to ask questions
three in a row but that's a long story, which I can
relate much better after Gertie has brought me a cup of
tea, which you will remember I like hot and clear and
strong/'
270
A WELCOME VISITOR TO CAMP
While the men chatted, Gertrude fairly flew away to
the kitchen, where she enlisted the services of the cook,
and soon returned with a tray laden with a variety of
good things, together with a steaming pot of tea.
" How are all the friends at home ?" the nurse
enquired, as she arranged the refreshments on a small
table, bade the Squire draw near, and took a seat herself
in order to pour the steaming beverage.
" They were all well when I left home, and as happy
as could be expected, living in Quinte's old log cabin,
with Quinte for landlord, chief cook and bottle-washer,"
said the Squire, as he seated himself at the table.
"What do you mean, grandfather?" Have you lost
the " Curtis could not complete the sentence, and his
eyes filled with tears.
" Yes, Curtis, my lad. The old Loyalist Clinton
homestead has gone out of our possession, just on the
eve of one hundred years' occupation by our family. It
is now in the hands of strangers, and, were it not for
Quinte's kindness, we would be without a home."
Squire Clinton bowed his head low, took out his large
bandana, rubbed his eyes, blew his nose, and then, after
solemnly asking a blessing, quietly began his meal. They
chatted about various matters until the Squire had
finished and pushed his chair back from the table.
" Gertie has told us all that happened up to the time
she left," Walter presently remarked. " Your ejection
from the old homestead must have taken place since then.
I hope it was before the cold weather set in, for it has
been unusually cold this winter."
" Yes, the sheriff's bailiff came the very next day
after Gertie's departure, and put us out, bag and baggage,
on the street, in the rain, and there we sat, weeping
together like so many frogs in a thunder-shower. For-
271
THE OLD LOYALIST
tunately, Charlie Picton came along, and, discovering our
sad plight, soon had the whole neighborhood astir. They
were all very kind, and a dozen or more of the neighbors
offered to take us in; but we preferred sticking to the
old sod, and so had them move us down to the log cabin,
of which, as you doubtless know, Quinte Brown holds
the deed. It was very fortunate he did, or that doubtless
would have gone, too.
" The next day our good friends came with lumber
and shingles, and built an addition to the cabin, and we
fitted the place up as comfortable as possible, and we
stored the rest of our furniture at Charlie Picton' s
home."
" I suppose Quinte was very glad to have you come
to live with him," suggested Gertrude, remembering
what the old man had told her on the eventful night when
she saved his life from the bullet of the would-be mur-
derer.
" Yes, the poor old fellow was as happy as a lark.
' Golly,' said he, Mis am fine, Mas'r Clinton, bein' owner
an' habin' serbants to wait on yo.' I 'specs I'll renew my
youf now, wif all dis white trash in my house waitin' on
me. I 'specs ol' Mas'r Clinton in Virginy would almos'
turn ober in de grabe if he knowed Moses Brown was
now de boss ob de Clinton fambly. Ha! ha! ha!'
" Quinte stepped about as proud as a peacock, played
his banjo, sang the old songs over and over, and did
everything possible to make everyone happy."
Sad though these young people felt over the news
that the old home had passed out of their hands, yet they
could not refrain from smiling when Squire Clinton, in
his droll way, told what Quinte had said. They well
knew that the kind old servant's object in talking that
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A WELCOME VISITOR TO CAMP
way was to divert the minds of the family and create a
little merriment in the midst of their distress and gloom.
"What started you off to the north shore, grand-
father, and how did you get here ?" asked Curtis, after a
time, by way of changing the unpleasant subject of the
loss of the old farm, on which his affections had become
concentrated since leaving home.
" Yes, yes," said the Squire. " Now, I must answer
all those questions. You have touched an important
matter, Curtis, in which Quinte's black walnut box is
involved. While dusting and cleaning in every crack and
corner of the cabin, Helen one day found an old manu-
script stowed away in an aperture between the logs
which had been papered over many years ago. It was quite
near the spot where, you will remember, Quinte dug out
the black walnut box that stormy Christmas night when
we all went down to make him a visit. No wet or
dampness had reached the paper, and, fortunately, the
mice had not discovered it. To our amazement, we
found that it had been written by my great-grandfather,
James Clinton, who, you will remember, built the cabin
on his crown-granted homestead at the first settlement
of the country.
" He had apparently laid the manuscript away in
that crevice near the latter end of his life, likely without
the knowledge of his family; and in his final days had
probably forgotten all about it. But there it was, neatly
written, in a firm, bold hand-writing, doubtless with a
quill-pen and jet black ink, and every character as well
preserved and legible as though it were engraved yester-
day."
" Why, that's remarkable, indeed," interrupted Curtis,
somewhat excitedly, " and what did it contain, grand-
18 273
THE OLD LOYALIST
father? What did it say about the black walnut box, of
which I had almost forgotten?"
" Well, I read it aloud to the family and Quinte, and
we all became deeply interested in its contents. I was
convinced that it was of considerable importance as an
historical relic at least, though perhaps not of any partic-
ular value to oUr family, after the lapse of so many years.
" We discussed it for several days, and old Quinte
grieved and wept and upbraided himself for not having
handed over the walnut box to his new master in Vir-
ginia, and then for not allowing me to open it that
Christmas night.
" I was sorry that you children were not all home,
especially you, Curtis, since you have the custody of
that box, in order that we might have opened it. I, too,
brooded over the matter, and growing very lonely
through not having much to do to occupy my time,
announced one day about a month ago that I was going
to take James Clinton's letter and make you children a
visit on the north shore of Lake Superior."
"That must have greatly surprised them, grand-
father," said Curtis.
"Yes, it did, indeed," resumed Squire Clinton.
" Mother and Helen thought I was crazy to think of such
a long trip overland, and tried to urge me to wait until
navigation opened; but you know when your stubborn
old grandfather gets an idea into his head you can't beat
it out with a club. Quinte was the only one who gave
me any encouragement. He wanted to come along."
"Why didn't you bring him?" enquired Gertrude.
" I fear the old man would not have stood the jour-
ney. When they saw I was determined to go, they
began packing a trunk with enough truck in it to do me
the rest of my life ; but I got out my old black grip, put
274
1
A WELCOME VISITOR TO CAMP
James Clinton's letter in the bottom, and then, with some
extra socks, shirts, shaving apparatus, comb and brush
and a few little nick-nacks not forgetting some pipes
and tobacco I shouldered my old, reliable rifle, that had
done duty for many years, and told them I was ready to
start. They had the impression I was going so far away
I would never get back, and I began to think so myself
before I got here.
" Doubtless, if grandmother and Helen had had an
officer handy they would have packed me off to the Rock-
wood Asylum at Kingston; but I kissed them good-bye,
told them I would be back on the first steamer after
navigation opened, and started from home. We drove
to town, and I took the train for Toronto, where I
replenished my supply of cartridges, for I thought the old
rifle ought to do some execution up in this forlorn
country, from all I had heard.
" We left Toronto the following morning, and I got
to North Bay in good time. From there I came west by
a construction train to the end of the track, as an ordin-
ary laborer looking for a job on construction."
" Then your troubles really began, no doubt," Walter
interjected, knowing something of the kind of experience
he would probably have the balance of his rough journey,
over many miles of partially graded roadbed.
" Troubles, boy ? Bless your soul ! No, that was
the most wonderful experience of my whole life. I
wouldn't have missed it for a mint of money."
" Or you wouldn't go through it again for two mints
of money, I suppose, grandfather?" Curtis remarked,
with a smile.
" Well, I guess you hit the nail on the head that time,
my boy," laughed the Squire, as he glanced at his cloth-
ing, arose to his feet, and showed them his tattered
275
THE OLD LOYALIST
trousers and worn shoes. " But I worked the engineer's
racket for all it was worth, and, to my great surprise, it
worked like a charm."
" What do you mean by the engineer's racket ?" asked
Walter, who was unfamiliar with the term.
" Well, I told the engineers along the line I had two
grandchildren away up the line somewhere, who had
charge of an engineering division, and that I was going
to make them a visit. They nearly all knew Earle,
Walter Earle, good engineer, fine fellow, McGill man,
dickens of a long way west, though ; but none seemed to
know Curtis Clinton; they thought perhaps he was one
of those ' Yankee ' engineers with which the road was
flooded, they said."
" Did they speak about any Yankee nurses?" enquired
Gertrude. " I'm a Yankee, you will remember, and am
always interested in anything pertaining to the land of
my birth."
" That's true, Gertie," said Walter, with a smile.
" and you'll soon be known as an engineer as well, after
you take a few more lessons in my office."
" I could not have been used better if I had been the
president of the C.P.R.," continued Squire Clinton.
" Those engineers are grand fellows, every one of them.
They passed me on from camp to camp across their
divisions, and always laughed and said : ' We'll charge it
up to the company, Mr. Clinton,' whenever I offered to
pay them for their hospitality and kindness. To my
utter amazement, they would send their team with a
driver and convey me long distances whenever possible;
or they would mount me. on snowshoes and give me an
escort of at least two guides, where there were poor
roads ; or they would give me letters to various contrac-
276
A WELCOME VISITOR TO CAMP
tors requesting them to give me a ' boost ' along the way
if it were at all possible.
" The contractors all live like princes, and they supply
their men, too, with an abundance of good, wholesome
food. To my surprise, many of them had a ' wee drop
of the crather ' to drink as well, and they always brought
it out and offered to treat me; but, of course, you know
old grandfather is strictly temperate, and so I invariably
declined their friendly offer of liquor with thanks."
There was a pause for a few minutes, when Curtis
asked : " Did you find any use for your rifle, grand-
father?"
" Ah, did I, boy ? I should say I did. Never shall I
forget that part of my experience. Several engineers'
camps along that five hundred miles are feeding to-day
on good, wholesome moose and cariboo meat as a result
of my pilgrimage through this barren land, and one large
black bearskin adorns the side of an engineer's shack,
about one hundred miles from here, owing to the fact
that he stirred out from his hole a little early in the
season and happened to come in range with your grand-
father's trusty gun. One shot through his head at a
range of two hundred yards did the business, and I
skinned him then and there.
" Bless my heart, but I would have enjoyed taking
that bear's pelt home with me to show the natives of our
Loyalist community in order to convince them that the
old Squire was not telling any of your fanciful bear
stories, but it was too heavy to bring along. Carson, the
engineer, took my address, and said he would endeavor
to preserve it, and send it to me some time when he goes
out into civilization ; but I scarcely expect ever to see my
beautiful bearskin again, except in my dreams, where it
has already appeared on several occasions."
277
THE OLD LOYALIST
" Once in a while a black fox is seen in this country,"
Walter here interjected. " I nearly got a shot at one on
my division about a year ago, but he was too sly for me.
It was a real beauty, though, and would have been a
great treasure. ,,
" How did he compare with this one, Walter?"
Squire Clinton demanded, as he opened his grip and
brought forth a beautiful pelt of a large black fox, which
he shook and spread out on the floor of the shack.
" What a trophy to carry home with you !" cried
Walter. " That alone should amply repay you for your
long, tedious trip into the wilds of Northern Canada."
After they had all admired the valuable pelt, Ger-
trude remarked : " And did you not see any wolves ?
They make me quake with fear when I hear their weird
howls in the forest at night."
" No, Gertie ; we did not see any wolves, but we heard
them from time to time occasionally quite near, and I
must confess they caused that ' creepy ' feeling to come
over me.
" Dr. Thorp said he had seen one now and again,
slinking through the timber, when driving up and down
the country in the day-time, but has thus far managed
to escape an attack by them in full force at night."
"Where did you meet Dr. Thorp, grandfather?"
asked Curtis.
"I fell in with him away down the country east of
here, and rode with him all the way to your camp. A
grand fellow he seems to be."
" Why did he not come in and stop with us all
night?" Walter enquired.
" He had a patient, he said, some distance up the line,
in a critical condition could scarcely live until morning
and he was anxious, therefore, to push on to-night
278
A WELCOME VISITOR TO CAMP
and see him again before he died. So when he let me
out of his sleigh at the grade near your camp, he asked
me to convey his kind regards to you all, and to say he
would be back again to see Curtis in a day or so on his
return trip.
" From what I saw of him, I take it that Dr. Thorp
is able to prescribe for a man's soul as well as for his
body. I saw some of his patients on the way who were
very near to death's door, and he talked and prayed with
them like one of our old-time Methodist preachers in the
Loyalist settlement. It did me good to hear him, and I
wondered if he had not missed his calling in the medical
profession."
" Why, Dr. Thorp's a missionary as well as a doctor,"
Gertrude replied, " and is doing splendid work in this
country."
" Ah, yes ; now I understand a happy combination
of professions, indeed. I wish there were more of such
practitioners in our country."
Then the conversation turned to the doctor's treat-
ment of Curtis and the success that had attended his
efforts. The nurse explained the condition in which she
had found Curtis, and related many details concerning
the nature of the deep wound in his forehead, the
extreme danger of complications, and the good fortune
that had attended their efforts. This led to a discussion
of the cause of the injury, and of the person who had
committed the foul deed.
Squire Clinton learned many particulars of Horace
Sullivan's operations as a contractor, and found to his
utter surprise that Gertrude had saved his life, and
nursed him for some time in the same shack where Curtis
was also a patient.
His admiration and love for the girl he had rescued
279
THE OLD LOYALIST
from the slums of New York and adopted as his own
was never greater than at that moment, when he realized
she was capable of sinking all personal feelings of
resentment against one whom she had every reason to
abhor when she found it her duty to treat him with
tenderness and care.
Now the conversation turned to the gold lockets and
the paintings they contained, which established beyond
question the blood relationship though far removed
between Walter Earle and Gertrude Westwood. Squire
Clinton looked at the two paintings for a long time in
blank amazement, scarcely able to realize the truth of
the statement the three members of his family were
endeavoring to prove.
" God be praised ! Walter, Gertrude," he said at
length, taking each by the hand. " I'm glad, indeed, to
find that you are both descended from the one Virginia
family, which from the type of the man represented by
those paintings and from your knowledge of your family
history must have been one of the aristocracy of that
loyal colony."
Following this came the frank confession of Ger-
trude's engagement to Curtis, which pleased Squire
Clinton more than anything he had heard in many a
day.
" All this good news you have been telling me, chil-
dren, renews my youth again, and largely compensates
for the loss of the old homestead." Then, like one of the
patriarchs of old, Squire Clinton, placing one hand upon
the head of Curtis and the other upon Gertrude's head,
bestowed his blessing upon them, and prayed to that God
from whom all blessings flow to keep them and guide
them through their future years.
280
CHAPTER XXI.
AN INTERESTING LETTER TO THE CLINTON
FAMILY.
So many personal matters were discussed that night
in Walter Earle's camp, and the hour was so late when
they got through, that Squire Clinton said, before re-
tiring for the night, they would wait until the following
day for the examination of the old manuscript he had
brought with him, which Helen had found in Quinte's
log cabin.
The old Loyalist slept well after his tiresome journey,
and long before he was awake Walter had started with
his survey party all carrying their lunches with them
to continue his cross-sectioning work a considerable dis-
tance from camp.
These long tramps along the narrow, snaggy centre
line trail previously cut out through the deep forest, was
the hardest part of the work, and rapidly developed won-
derful powers of endurance. Great energy was demanded
on the part of every member of the party. This accounted
for the voracious appetites of the men and the huge
lunches of fried or boiled pork, canned beef, bread and
biscuits, canned vegetables and fruits, tea and coffee, and
many other secondary tasteful articles, supplied by the
cook, which the party daily consumed at the noon-hour,
around an open fire.
They reached camp that night at dark, every man
with wet feet, torn boots or trousers, tired and hungry.
Changing of garments, washing and combing, and ques-
281
THE OLD LOYALIST
tioning the cook about what he had good for supper,
occupied the next hour. At the sound of the tin pan
beaten by the cookee, every one started for the dining
tent, where Squire Clinton was given the seat of honor
at Walter's right, with Gertrude on his left.
For the first time since his injury, Curtis occupied
a seat at the table, and sat beside his nurse, where she
could the better wait upon him. Every one was de-
lighted to see the invalid around again after his long
illness.
Squire Clinton was extremely happy, and soon put
everybody at ease with his droll remarks and many
amusing anecdotes. A pleasant hour was thus spent at
dinner, and the young men returned to their camps with
light hearts, forgot their weariness and smoked and
chatted and read beside comfortable fires in sheet-iron
stoves, which made the stoves themselves glow like live
coals.
The Clinton family withdrew to Curtis's shack,
where, after chatting for a time about the varied experi-
ences of the day, Squire Clinton brought forth from his
black grip the old manuscript which he had been
anxiously waiting to read to his family.
He sat beside the warm stove, with glasses adjusted
and with one elbow on the improvised centre table. The
latter was covered by a nice spread and supported a large
well-trimmed coal-oil lamp. Squire Clinton opened the
manuscript and read as follows:
"Fourth Town, Canada West,
"July 28th, 181 5.
" To whom it may concern,
" I, James Clinton, advanced in years and persuaded
that my life is drawing near to a close, take up my pen
282
AN INTERESTING LETTER
to record a few facts in connection with my past life,
which may be of interest to those of my family who
come after me.
" I was born in the loyal old British colony of Vir-
ginia, where my father, Percival Clinton, owned a large
plantation on the Potomac River. There were three
children: Margaret, Edward and myself. Margaret
went home to England to finish her education in the
home of our wealthy grandparents in the city of Lon-
don, while Edward and myself remained with our parents
on the plantation.
" A few years after this, the Revolutionary War
broke out between England and her American colonies,
which caused great sorrow and distress in our dear old
Virginia home. We regarded it as a most unjust war,
and thought England did a grave wrong in taxing her
colonies, which had no voice in the Government at home.
But when it came to a question of taking up arms
against our rightful sovereign King George, and de-
claring our independence, many of us shrank from such
a thought, as we would from that of taking our own
lives. Like many another family in those days of tur-
moil and strife, ours became divided, and this led to
much trouble and sorrow.
" George Washington and my father were warm
personal friends. Washington, when a young man, so
my father informed me, had made a survey of our plan-
tation and prepared a plan or map thereof which, with
other papers, my father preserved in a black walnut
box, with his name engraved on a brass plate on the
cover. There was some mystery about that map I never
could understand. My father frequently referred to it
and on various occasions I saw him with it in his hand,
pacing back and forth and apparently checking some of
283
THE OLD LOYALIST
the measurements from a certain stone monument, which
I frequently saw near the river on the plantation boun-
dary line, up to the house and through the cellar door
into a passage excavated through rock which father al-
ways called his ' wine cellar,' and which he would not
allow us children under any consideration to enter.
" Father felt very much grieved when he learned
that his old friend, George Washington England's loyal
champion of the past had become the leader of the re-
bellious American forces that had taken up arms against
King George. Sadder still was he and our dear old
mother when Edward one day announced that he was
about to join General Washington's army. Father
reasoned and stormed and threatened, while mother
pleaded with Edward; but it was of no avail, as he was
determined to go.
" He left our home in great anger and with dire
threatenings. In the course of time he became an
officer of some prominence in Washington's army, and
it is said, showed great courage in the midst of danger.
" I remained at home with my parents and assisted
in the management of the large plantation, where we
had a great number of slaves employed. Just here I
desire to say that over and above the apparent goodly
profits from year to year of this plantation, my father
inherited a considerable fortune from his parents in
England, and I cannot understand to this day what be-
came of all his wealth.
" He was most economical in his business and do-
mestic affairs. He did not speculate, and had the plan-
tation all paid for and made much more money, I firmly
believe, than he spent. Father always managed his busi-
ness affairs himself and never took his wife or children
into his confidence in financial matters, and therefore
284
AN INTERESTING LETTER
we were quite in the dark in regard to the disposition of
his money.
" Soon the day came when we were called upon to
buckle on our armor in the defence of our beloved Vir-
ginia, and so father and I set forth, mounted on our
two best horses, to join the King's forces.
" A little incident occurred then which, in passing, I
wish to relate, as it may have some bearing on the his-
tory of our family. After father and I had started from
home, he suddenly changed his mind in regard to the
black walnut box he was carrying with him in a large
outer pocket, and stopping his horse abruptly, shouted
to me, ' Hold on, Jim. I can't be bothered with this
big walnut box in my pocket. Perhaps it will be safer
at home anyway, for we can't tell what may happen.
Just wait a minute, and I'll ride back and hand it to
your mother.'
" He was about to start off when I remembered
having a little gold keepsake in my pocket, which my
sister had sent me from England and which I valued
very much. ' Here, father, put this keepsake of mine
in your walnut box,' I demanded. ' I would not like to
lose it, and it will be safer there.'
" ' All right, Jim,' answered father, as he took the
key from his pocket, unlocked the box and dropped trie
article inside. He then relocked the box, returned the
key to his pocket, and rode swiftly back to our home.
I waited for him but a few minutes when he returned
and we put spurs to our horses and continued our
journey.
The history of that terrible war is known full well
and it is needless for me, therefore, at this time to dwell
at length upon the final issue. Suffice it to say that my
dear father fell dead by my side in one of the latter
285
THE OLD LOYALIST
battles, pierced through the heart with a bullet; that my
mother died of a broken heart, and that I afterwards
found myself turned out from my old home by my
brother, a beggar upon the cold charity of our enemies.
I was consequently compelled to seek an asylum else-
where.
" I do not wish to complain about our haughty, mer-
ciless victors; but I must protest against the gross negli-
gence and apathy of England in permitting her repre-
sentatives to sign the Treaty of Paris, without the in-
sertion of a clause which would provide for and protect
all her faithful, defeated subjects. It was manifestly
unfair and cruel for our mother country, for which we
had suffered and bled, to permit of the confiscation of
the property of many thousands of her most loyal and
faithful subjects without some compensation.
" Our victorious enemies treated us with supreme
indifference and contempt even after peace was declared,
knowing that no provision had been made for our future
welfare.
" I left Virginia a pauper and saw my brother Ed-
ward in full possession of my father's large estates. A
little slave lad, Moses Brown, belonging to the estate,
who became attached to me after the death of his parents,
begged to go with me. I arranged with Edward for
his release, and together we started from the dear old
home of my childhood with tears in my eyes, as I
thought of the old associations and the graves of my
dear father and mother.
" Imagine the feelings of a proud son of Virginia
begging from door to door, and spurned like a leper,
as he pursued his weary journey for several weeks, sleep-
ing in outbuildings bv the roadside and existing upon
mere scraps of provisions doled out by our cruel, heart-
less victors? 286
AN INTERESTING LETTER
" Reaching New York, in the good providence of
God, after our long, arduous journey, we found con-
siderable activity there among our Loyalist friends.
Many had been sent away to various parts of the British
Dominions, and just then an expedition to Canada was
being arranged. We were sent aboard one of three
vessels which, in a few days, set sail with a full comple-
ment of Loyalist passengers, under the protection of an
English warship.
" At that hour a new light dawned on the horizon
of my life in the presence of Marie Van Buskirk, a niece
of Major Van Alstine, the acknowledged leader of our
party. She was a member of a well-educated and
wealthy Knickerbocker family, who had lost all in the
war. Marie, the only survivor of that once prosperous
and proud family, was accompanying her uncle, Major
Van Alstine and his family to a new home in the North-
land, where we understood the flag of old England still
continued to wave.
" She was a beautiful young woman, who, I observed,
was very active among the children aboard our vessel
from the time we set sail. She was a sweet singer, too,
and delighted in getting all the little ones on board to-
gether and singing for them and teaching them certain
beautiful little songs.
" It was in the summer of 1783, and the weather was
delightful as we sailed along from day to day. We
passed the shore of Nova Scotia and had the old fortress
of Louisburg pointed out to us, with which in name we
were all familiar, owing to the many struggles our people
had experienced there in the past with the French.
" One day, while steering westward through the Gulf
of St. Lawrence, Marie was having a concert on deck
and everyone was delighted with the singing of the chil-
287
THE OLD LOYALIST
dren, and clapping their hands loudly as each pretty song
was concluded. One little fellow in happy excitement
lost his balance and fell overboard. This created great
alarm and Marie rushed to the side of the vessel with
a scream and look of terror. I was sitting nearby on
a chest listening to the sweet singing, and, I must con-
fess, admiring the winsome leader.
" As soon as I heard the scream I threw off my coat
and vaulted over into the sea. We were running at a
fair speed at the time and the vessel was soon clear of
the child, whose form I distinctly saw as it rose to the
surface. I was a good swimmer in those days and it
was no exertion for me to place the little fellow across
my shoulders and keep afloat until the vessel was headed
into the wind and a small boat was sent off to our
rescue.
" Small though the service was which I performed,
it was of wonderful import to all on board, and espe-
cially to Marie, who was deeply grateful. Thus we be-
came more intimately acquainted, and I have had reason
many times since for gratitude to that little lad for
tumbling overboard that beautiful summer afternoon.
" We called at Quebec and wintered at Sorel. We
had a long, toilsome voyage up the St. Lawrence rapids
the following spring; but eventually reached Lake On-
tario, and rejoiced in knowing our final destination was
near at hand, that our long, weary pilgrimage was over.
" While waiting at Kingston for the completion of
the surveys along the Bay of Quinte, Marie Van Bus-
kirk and myself were married. We then moved up the
Bay of Quinte with our people and selected our Crown-
granted homesteads of two hundred acres. My choice
happened to be just where Major Van Alstine's party
landed from our long bateaux in Fourth Town on the
288
AN INTERESTING LETTER
now memorable 16th of June, 1784. The Major declared
that in honor of my lovely bride the first log cabin
should be built upon my homestead. This was done,
and Marie and I were very happy in our plain log cabin
in the great wilderness, among so many kind friends.
" The lad Moses Brown had been my faithful com-
panion all these months, and now became our genial,
happy servant, with the distinguished name of ' Quinte,'
which the Major dubbed him, owing to his fondness
for splashing in the bay.
" We all began our pioneer life on an equal footing,
and all had to work extremely hard in the erection of our
numerous log cabins, and in the clearing of the land.
" A bright little boy came to cheer our home in the
course of time, and all the privations and sorrows of
the past were forgotten as we looked to the bright pros-
pects of the future.
" We had a hard struggle the following winter on
account of all the Government supplies for our colony
having been frozen up in the St. Lawrence. The Govern-
ment had performed its part faithfully, but through the
negligence and drunkenness of certain officials, the sup-
plies were not rushed forward as they should have been
and the vessels were overtaken by the early ice. It was
a close call for many. Nearly all the animals were killed
and everything that would afford nourishment was
devoured. Soup bones were boiled again and again and
passed on from house to house. We were like one large
family, however, and a remarkable generosity prevailed
throughout the entire district. Everyone seemed to be
anxious about the welfare of his neighbors.
" We managed to pull through that memorable
famine with but a few deaths. Then our wilderness
n began to blossom as a rose. In a few years we
19 289
THE OLD LOYALIST
were able to provide more than we could consume and
our rough tables groaned with the loads of wholesome,
nutritious food with which they were stored every day
in the year. The mortars and pestles for grinding wheat
and corn gave place in time to the grist mills; and an
imported piece of dress goods found its way now and
again into the settlement, where our home-made flannel
had been the staple since our arrival. Roads were cut
from one settlement to another and schools were estab-
lished at intervals. A church, too, was built here and
there on the Bay of Quinte, and the missionary and
ordained preacher began to talk to us about the spiritual
life, of which we had heard but little for many years.
" We were reminded again of the old days when
at home we worshipped God. The family altars were
erected once more in many of our homes, and our people
assembled on the Sabbath, heard the Word expounded
and praised our Maker with rapturous song and fervid
prayer.
" In the course of time a new province was erected
in the west, and John Graves Simcoe, the new Lieu-
tenant-Governor, came and established his Government.
Instead of making Kingston his capital, however, he
went away west to the Niagara Peninsula, and opened
forth in a tent with stools for seats in the village of
Newark. We sent Major Van Alstine, our respected
leader, as our first representative to the new Parliament,
where he performed his duties to the satisfaction of all
our people and with great credit to himself.
" Time would fail to tell all the experiences we had
in the development of our section of the great country
which we now recognized as our permanent home. We
were happy, too, in finding there were other prosperous
settlements to the east and west. They, too, were loyal,
290
AN INTERESTING LETTER
law-abiding and God-fearing people like ourselves, and
were prosperous in their various communities.
" Just when we began to feel we were Becoming a
people of some importance, we were alarmed one day
by the loud, harsh tocsin of war, and every man of us
sprang to arms in the defence of our country against the
would-be despoiler from the south country, of whom
we had always been suspicious.
"The history of the War of 1812 will be written
by abler pens than mine. I merely wish to say that we
Loyalists faithfully did our duty and every man of us
was ready to die, if needs be, in the defence of Canada.
" I was early in the saddle at Kingston as Captain
of our local corps. In the ranks I was proud to find
my son, Thomas, then about the age I was when I went
forth to battle at my father's side in the great war of
the American Revolution. We had occasion to send a
message from Kingston to General Brock in the west,
and my son Thomas was the one selected to convey that
message on horseback with relays of horses at intervals
along the route.
" He acquitted himself with distinction by placing the
etter in General Brock's own hand on the evening of
the day preceding that most eventful one, when the gal-
ant General's life was sacrificed on Queenston Heights,
and the whole country mourned over its irreparable loss.
" We finally returned home with hearts filled witli
gratitude to Almighty God for our deliverance from our
enemies, and with greater love than ever for the dear
notherland, which came to our rescue at the critical
noment.
" Again we settled down to our peaceful, rural life,
md God's smile has rested upon us ever since through-
291
THE OLD LOYALIST
out this fertile district, where all have become prosperous.
" Occasionally there came upon me the desire to re-
turn to Virginia and see once more the home of my
childhood ; but it was a long journey and travelling was
expensive, and we have always had good use for all our
hard-earned money in the maintenance of our family.
I have never gratified that desire up to the present
moment, and will scarcely do so now at my advanced
age, especially since I am aware none of my relatives
would be found there at the present time.
" I have learned from a reliable source that my
brother Edward recklessly squandered all my father's
possessions, and afterwards left Virginia with his family
for the city of New York. The old Virginia home is
consequently now in the hands of strangers, and there
is little to induce one to go back to the scene of so much
sorrow beyond seeing the graves of the departed loved
ones.
" I have never heard anything more respecting my
sister Margaret, in London, than I have already stated ;
but I suppose she has gone to her reward ere this, as she
was the eldest of our family.
" As I said at the beginning of this letter, my life-
work is nearly over, for already have I handed over the
management of the homestead to my faithful son
Thomas, who, with his good wife and three little ones,
are occupying our old log cabin with me.
" My dear partner sleeps in the graveyard hard by
our old home where I am writing these lines, and her
good name is revered throughout the whole community.
Hers was a noble, self-sacrificing, gentle Christian spirit,
a true helpmate and a fond mother. That spirit is to-^
day enjoying the bliss of the home immortal beyond
the skies, and methinks at times I see her gentle hand
292
1
AN INTERESTING LETTER
beckoning me to come to her. It will not be long now,
at the most, until I hear the summons, and I am ready
to go when the call comes.
" Quinte made the grave for her remains, as he has
for all our good Loyalist colonists in this settlement, who
have crossed the river. I water it and keep the grass
green during the summer and replenish the flowers from
day to day in company with my little grandchildren,
who now begin to manifest an interest in grandmother's
grave.
" There is a space beside it for me ; and Quinte, my
faithful servant, has promised to attend my grave after
I am gone. Thomas will scratch my initials on the rude
stone that is now erected at the head of the grave of
the one who is gone, and that will be quite enough to
satisfy all the desires of my heart.
'* If I could make one humble request of those who
follow, it would be that they bring, if possible, the dust
of my dear old father and mother from Virginia and
bury it here in our family plot in the Loyalist graveyard,
where the gentle waves of our beautiful Bay of Quinte,
as they splash against the shore, and the sighing of the
wind in the surrounding trees, may together sing a
solemn requiem over all our graves in future years, while
our spirits are at rest above.
' I cannot close this letter with more appropriate
words than those of St. Paul to his beloved Timothy:
" * I have fought a good fight, I have finished my
ourse, I have kept the faith. Henceforth there is laid
jp for me a crown of righteousness which the Lord, the
ighteous Judge, shall give me at that day, and not to
ne only, but unto all them also that love his appearing."
" Faithfully yours,
"James Clinton."
293
CHAPTER XXII.
ANOTHER MISTLETOE CONTRACT RENEWED.
During the following days James Clinton's letter
was read again and again in the railway engineering
camp, and long discussions followed in the evenings on
the various matters to which he alluded, each one of
which seemed to be fraught with much significance to
the Clinton family.
Curtis and Walter became particularly interested in
that part of the letter which spoke of the survey and
plan, or map, of the Virginia plantation having been
made by George Washington. They were not aware
before that Washington in his early days followed that
profession. Why did Percival Clinton get out that plan
from time to time, and check certain measurements
leading up to his dwelling? Why did he keep a wine
cellar, to which none of his family were ever admitted?
What had he done with all the money earned off his
plantation and inherited from his wealthy parents in
England? What else did that black walnut box contain
besides the map and the gold keepsake belonging to
James Clinton?
All these questions and many more were commented
upon, and it appeared quite evident there was some
mystery associated with Percival Clinton's affairs, which
as yet had never been cleared up. Then, too, the final
request of James Clinton, that the dust of his father and
mother should, if possible, be transported from the bank
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ANOTHER MISTLETOE CONTRACT
of the Potomac to the shore of the Bay of Quinte,
appealed very strongly to Squire Clinton, who said he
would some day endeavor to have it accomplished, pro-
viding he could find the locality of those long-forgotten
graves.
Curtis grew very enthusiastic over these interesting
problems, and advised that they take immediate action
in order, if possible, to clear up the mystery.
" Why not take a trip down to Virginia this spring,
Curtis?" Gertrude remarked one evening, when the
matter was under discussion. " It will never do for you
to return to work for some weeks, and you should have
some agreeable recreation after the trying ordeal you
have experienced these several months."
" That's an excellent idea, Gertie," Walter replied,
" and you might take old Quinte along with you, Curtis,
to help you find the Clinton graves. He possibly would
have some recollection of their location if you could find
the property."
" Yes, a very good suggestion, Curtis ; and would it
not be well to take Walter, the engineer, along to inter-
pret Washington's mysterious map and endeavor to dis-
cover Percival Clinton's wine cellar, which, possibly,
may be stored with hidden treasures? That's the most
important problem to solve, and who could unravel the
mystery so well as our expert engineer?"
" Splendid !" exclaimed Gertrude, " and your dear
old grandfather must go along to superintend the expe-
dition, take possession of the treasures, and bring them
and the members of the expedition back safely home.
When will you start?"
Everyone smiled at Gertrude's remarks. Then
Squire Clinton said :
" Your suggestions are all very good, children, and
295
THE OLD LOYALIST
I would dearly love to bring over the remains of our
old ancestor, Percival Clinton, and his good wife, and
deposit them by the side of our forefathers in the old
Loyalist cemetery at home; but, unfortunately, a serious
barrier prevents our carrying out so laudable an under-
taking at the present time."
" What is that, grandfather ?" asked Curtis.
" Our finances- are at a very low ebb just now, my
dear boy, and for the first time in my life I find myself
entirely crippled financially, and unable to provide even
a decent home for my family, let alone doing many
other things of this nature I would dearly love to see
accomplished before I die. I have always hoped for
better things in my declining years."
The Squire's voice trembled a little, and as he con-
cluded he wiped away some gathering tears, which he
tried hard to restrain.
" I think you have done your share, grandfather,"
Curtis answered. " Walter and I have some money
saved, and if he will now agree to join me, we will go
to Virginia and take you and Quinte along and see if
we can locate the old Clinton plantation. What do you
say, Walter, shall we go?"
" I'm with you, Curtis, old fellow, in so laudable an
enterprise. I will ask at once for a couple of months'
leave of absence from the time navigation opens, which
is not very far distant. I believe Collins, the division
engineer, who will be along any day now, will arrange
it for me."
" God bless you, boys !" said Squire Clinton. " My
one great longing desire next to reclaiming our old
homestead shall now be fulfilled."
Thus, in a few words, were certain simple plans
formulated by this little company in that far-away lonely
296
ANOTHER MISTLETOE CONTRACT
region of country, which were destined to lead to some
strange discoveries in the past history of the Clinton
family and in their experiences in the years to come.
Matters had been growing worse and worse mean-
time with contractor Horace Sullivan. As the spring
advanced he became badly tied up in his contracts, and
could not meet his many obligations. Moreover,
through poor management of his men, but little work
was performed on the various contracts, and so the en-
gineers and head contractors became uneasy and dis-
satisfied with the slipshod manner in which he was doing
his work. They consequently notified him that if he did
not do better in future they would close down on him
and take the contracts out of his hands.
" You are constantly complaining about your estim-
ates not being large enough, Mr. Sullivan," said Walter
to him one day, " and I understand from other engin-
eers that you are making the same complaint on their
divisions. At the same time, you are slighting your
work wherever possible, and you are making no attempt
to perform it according to the specifications. You have
' been warned before, and I warn you now, that you must
i change your methods in future or you are certain to
get yourself into trouble."
" Look here, Walter," said Horace, " I'm in an
j awful mess, and will lose every dollar I've got in the
I world if you don't help me out of this infernal hole."
" How can I help you out, Horace. You have got
i the ill-will of all the engineers where you have worked,
owing to your domineering and even insulting manner
with them, and you have treated your foreman and
employees generally as if they were so many slaves.
! What else could you expect under the circumstances?"
" Yes, yes, Walter. I can see my mistakes now,
297
THE OLD LOYALIST
and shall endeavor to do better in the future; but the
question is, will you help me out of this damnable hole
I'm in just now, and let me get on my feet again? If
you will, I'll make it worth your while."
"I do not understand you, Horace. I have no
power to help you out. I have given you fair, even
liberal, estimates, and that is all you can expect from
any engineer."
" No doubt of that, Walter, whatever bluff I have
made to the contrary. You are the best one of the
whole gang of engineers on construction. I want you
to go a little further, however, since we are old friends
and neighbors, and give me a big estimate this month
in that rock cut. I must have the money to tide me
over, and what's the odds? If it isn't done this month
it will be the next, or the following month, and no one
will ever know the difference except you and me.
" Give me an increase in estimates of say, $10,000
this month, Walter, over and above what I'm entitled
to, and I'll give you a commission of ten per cent., or
$1,000, to slip down into your trousers' pocket. I will
give you my word of honor that I'll never mention it to
a living soul, and no one but ourselves will ever be the
wiser. Come, now, be a gentleman, Walter, and help a
poor fellow who is down on his luck."
Walter Earle looked at the contractor for a few
minutes in blank amazement and deep disgust at his
attempt to bribe him.
"I'm surprised, Horace, that you would attempt to
place me, whom you claim as an old friend, in the posi-
tion of a base scoundrel for a paltry sum of money.
You must have a low estimate of me to think I can be
bought for a few dollars. You certainly manifest a very
low estimate of your own self-respect."
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ANOTHER MISTLETOE CONTRACT
Misunderstanding Walter's meaning, Horace replied
quickly : " Well, double or quadruple the estimate,
Walter, and I'll give you your ten per cent, on any
amount you name twenty, or even forty, thousand
dollars which, you know, would go a long way in help-
ing you to buy back the old Clinton homestead."
" No, Horace ; you may count on an estimate this
month just in proportion no more no less to the
amount of work you have actually performed during the
past month. As for redeeming the old Clinton home,
we shall endeavor to do that with honest money."
When Horace saw that Walter could not be bribed
he became furious, and cursed and raved and called him
all sorts of vile names, and began making personal
threats.
" There, now, Horace, don't be foolish and make
your case still worse than it is now. Go ahead and do
your best, and you may be able to pull through yet. You
should endeavor to be something more than a petulant
child if you desire to succeed as a contractor on this
railway."
Walter's cool, self-possessed manner served only to
infuriate the passionate creature. He suddenly clinched
the handle of the large jack-knife with which he had
been whittling a piece of wood, and, rushing up quickly,
stabbed at Walter's heart as he hissed : " Die, then, curse
you, you English dog!"
Walter instinctively threw up his arm in self-defence,
and the sharp, glittering blade penetrated the cover of
the field note-book he fortunately was holding in his
hand. The engineer instantly leaped upon the contractor
and bore him to the ground, while the knife fell from
the latter's hand. They were both strong men, and a
desperate struggle took place between them. Walter
299
THE OLD LOYALIST
did his best to hold Horace down on his back in the
position in which he first fell. The latter twisted and
struggled and twirled round and round, in a vain
endeavor to throw off his antagonist and recover his
feet; but the latter held on with a mighty grip.
Horace's superior strength soon began to tell against
Walter, who pluckily continued to hold on to his adver-
sary. The engineer now made a desperate attempt to
prevent Horace from rolling over on top of him, clearly
realizing that the contractor would use the knife which
lay beside him on the ground.
Thus they continued to struggle to the full limit of
their strength, without either gaining the mastery.
Horace managed after a while to get Walter by the
throat. He thus quickly forced the engineer to let go
his hold. Horace then suddenly turned over upon him,
grasped the knife in his right hand, and was just in the
act of raising his arm to stab his victim in the heart,
when he was caught from behind and hurled over on
his back with a jar that made his whole frame quiver
and that sent the knife flying out of his hand.
Squire Clinton happened to be walking along the
grade with his rifle on his shoulder, looking for rabbits
and partridge, and had reached the scene of the struggle
just in the nick of time. Throwing down his rifle, the
Squire, with giant strength, flung the contractor over
backwards, sprang upon him with all his weight, and
shouted :
" Give me a hand here, Walter. There, that's right.
Hold his arms steady, now, until I get my suspenders
off. All ready. There, that arm's secure. Now
bring the other arm down here beside this one. Good!
That will hold him, I guess. Now for his legs. Give
me your belt, Walter. Here, wind it round ; now buckle
300
ANOTHER MISTLETOE CONTRACT
it up tight. Bravo! There you are, Horace; tied in
good shape, like I once fixed your old grandfather, Cap-
tain Mike, many years ago. Pick up that knife, Walter,
and throw it away where it can do no damage. Good!
Now what shall we do with the rascal?"
A contractor's team chanced to pass along the grade
just then, and Walter explained to the driver what had
occurred. Horace was quickly dumped into the wagon
and driven to Walter's camp, where he was held a
prisoner, under a warrant issued by Magistrate George
Clinton.
The few remaining weeks up to the opening of navi-
gation passed away quickly in the engineer's camp,
where matters were being arranged so that the Clinton
family could leave on the first steamer. The division
engineer, Collins, arranged for a temporary supply in
Walter's place, and the latter was extremely busy in
getting his work in shape to hand over to his successor.
Gertrude found her hands full in making ready for
her departure, and Curtis gave a willing, helping hand
to the extent of his ability, for he was still somewhat
weak.
The impending crisis came with Horace Sullivan.
The chief contractor, under whom Sullivan was but a
" sub " in his various contracts, became impatient and
then disgusted with Sullivan's mismanagement, and
finally closed him out and took everything out of his
' hands.
When the climax came, and Horace realized that he
was a ruined man, his mind became completely unbal-
anced. He was still held a prisoner at Walter Earle's
camp, for the simple reason that there was no one in the
district to whom they could hand him over, and he was
too dangerous a character to let go. His prison was an
301
THE OLD LOYALIST
out-of-the-way shack, where he was made comfortable
and kindly treated. He now became a raving maniac,
and they placed him in a strong cage, improvised in the
camp.
The glad day came when the bay resounded once
more with the welcome sound of the steamer's whistle.
There was a busy time for the next few hours about
the dock discharging the large cargo. Before the bell
sounded for the steamer's departure, Horace Sullivan,
secure in his movable prison, was taken aboard and
placed in an apartment below, where he could not be
seen by the other passengers, and where his frantic yells
and curses would give the least disturbance.
" Good-bye, Curtis ! God bless you ! I hope you'll
be as good as new when you come back again," shouted
the genial Dr. Thorp, as the steamer glided away from
the wharf, with Squire George Clinton standing on the
deck and Curtis and Gertrude and Walter on either side,
all waving their handkerchiefs and bidding kind fare-
wells to the good doctor whom they had grown to love
for his many excellent qualities, which all had learned
to deeply appreciate.
In due time Captain Cook landed his passengers
safely on the south shore of Georgian Bay, and the Clin-
ton family immediately took the train for Toronto and
Kingston, and arrived at the latter city the following
day.
Horace Sullivan occupied the cage in the baggage
car of the same train in which the family travelled.
Walter looked after the unfortunate contractor, and
wired ahead for an ambulance to meet the train at
Kingston. On arriving at the station, Horace was taken
to the Rockwood Asylum, where he was confined in the
302
ANOTHER MISTLETOE CONTRACT
ward set apart for the most desperate lunatics, so violent
and dangerous had he become.
The family meanwhile repaired to the hotel, where
later on they were joined by Walter Earle on his return
from the asylum. In the afternoon the Squire and
Curtis went to the office of his solicitors, where Patter-
son, who had so ably defended Ouinte Brown, was now
the head of the firm since the Premier's removal to
Ottawa. Patterson gave them a warm welcome, and
after a few minutes' chat, the black walnut box was
demanded. The latter was immediately produced, and
again Curtis took possession of the box he had handed
over for safe-keeping on that well-remembered morning
eighteen years before.
The walnut box was securely placed in Squire Clin-
ton's portmanteau, and then the family called a hack
and took a pleasant drive around the city, viewing each
of the many points of interest.
That afternoon they took the steamer up the Bay of
Quinte. They watched, and freely commented upon, the
many familiar landmarks as they passed along. They
landed at the wharf in the early evening in front of the
Clinton home. Their hearts were filled with gladness
when they first caught a glimpse of the other members of
the family. They could scarcely restrain themselves
from shouting, and thus making known their arrival.
Seated outside of Ouinte Brown's cabin, in plain view
of the wharf, were Mrs. Clinton, Helen, and the old
colored servant, watching the movements of the steamer
and of the people moving to and fro after the landing
at the wharf.
" There's quite a party coming off the steamer to-
night," Helen remarked quietly to her grandmother, as
she paused for a moment and then resumed her sewing.
303
THE OLD LOYALIST
" Yes, indeed," replied Mrs. Clinton. " They must
be strangers. They certainly have lots of baggage. I
wonder whom they may be?"
" Golly, dey is comin' up de paf to de cabin, missus,"
shouted Quinte, a few minutes later. " Gwine to hab
company foh supper, suah. Quinte bettah start de fire,
put de kettle on, an' den we'll all take tea."
The old man limped away inside to perform his old-
time duty, with all the agility he could command.
"Why, is that lady not like Gertie, grandmother?"
cried Helen, as she jumped to her feet. " Surely, there
is some resemblance! Can it be possible?"
" No, certainly not, child ; but, bless me ! That looks
like your grandfather, Helen; but can't be. Yes, thank
God, it is my dear husband !" And Mrs. Clinton threw
down her knitting and started on the run to meet the
approaching quartette, whose faces were all wreathed in
smiles.
" And Curtis and Walter ! Where in the world did
they come from?" exclaimed Helen, as she followed her
grandmother in hot pursuit.
" Golly, I'se lad," said Quinte from the door of the
cabin, and he, too, tottered off to welcome the home-
comers with unusual speed for a man of his advanced
years.
It was a very happy family reunion. The visitors,
accustomed to camp life, had but little difficulty in
adapting themselves to the narrow quarters of a primi-
tive log cabin, with a lean-to attached. The night had
grown old before the conversation began to languish;
there was so much to tell of all the experiences, at home,
on the one hand, and at the front, in the engineer's camp,
on the other.
The following day Helen and Walter were standing
34
ANOTHER MISTLETOE CONTRACT
on the shore of the bay in front of Quinte's cabin, skip-
ping small stones out over the smooth surface of the
water, in lively competition, as they had often done
before in childhood days.
It was a beautiful warm June day, and nature was
adorned in her loveliest robes. The four young men and
women had strolled to the wharf to see the steamer
come and go on her morning trip down the bay,
and to admire Gertrude's elegant moose-head, brought
from the north shore, still lying there in the crate in
which it had come through by steamer and rail.
Curtis and Gertrude had gone up to the village to
post some letters and order some groceries for Mrs.
Clinton, and Helen and Walter, left to themselves, had
taken a walk along the shore of the bay, chatting about
a multitude of those little things, of no particular import,
that have afforded pleasure and delight to young men
and young women at certain times and under certain
conditions, in all ages of the world and among all races
of humanity.
Growing weary of skipping stones, Walter suggested
that thejittle island in the bay, with its green sward and
lovely shade trees, looked very attractive. He longed
for a skiff, that they might row out and visit the familiar
spot once more, where, as a boy, he was accustomed to
bathe and fish and bask in the sun, or lie under the shade
of the trees.
" There's Quinte's fishing punt chained to the wharf.
Do you suppose you are engineer enough to navigate
it?" said Helen.
" Is it safe, Helen ? It must be very old by this time."
" Yes, perfectly safe. Quinte often takes me out
fishing, and it does not leak a drop, but it is very hard to
row."
20 305
THE OLD LOYALIST
" Very well, Helen, suppose we try it? I'm a pretty
good swimmer, but not a professional oarsman."
They soon were seated in the old fishing boat, and
slowly Walter rowed toward the island, chatting mean-
while with his fair companion about many familiar
objects observed along the shore.
" That was harder work than locating a mile of rail-
way," he declared, half an hour later, as he stepped from
the boat, gave Helen a helping hand, and then wiped the
perspiration from his forehead before pulling up the
boat.
They walked up the narrow strip of the island to its
far end, and there became seated on a log on a slight
eminence, in the shade of overhanging trees, clad in the
greenest verdure, from which delightful bower the glassy
surface of the water could be seen on all sides, with the
gentle shimmering of the sun's bright rays above it.
" What a delightful spot, Helen. I never knew it
was so lovely."
" Yes, I've always admired this dear little island from
the land, but very rarely have I ever made it a personal
visit in all my life."
" It seems to me I never enjoyed the scenery here at
home so much as at the present time. I wonder why it
is?"
" Doubtless owing to your long absence from home,
Walter," Helen quietly replied, as she looked away in
the opposite direction, at a schooner under full sail,
vainly endeavoring to change her course owing to a lack
of wind.
" Possibly. But I have an impression there must be
some other cause. Your presence affects me differently,
Helen, from what it did before I went away."
" Some magician, perhaps, has been waving his
306
ANOTHER MISTLETOE CONTRACT
magic wand over you," she replied, with a blush, as she
arose and broke a small limb from a tree.
" I was just thinking so, Helen, and you are the one
who has brought about the transformation."
" I have no magic power, nor any wand, save this
tiny branch, and so you can scarcely hold me responsible
for the change that you have experienced."
" You have something better, Helen."
"What's that, pray?"
" A true heart, rendering all magic power needless."
" How do you know ?"' Helen looked Walter
squarely in the eyes. "You have been away for a long
time, Walter."
" My high regard and, latterly, my deep love for
you, Helen especially since I saw your sweet face on
my return home yesterday leads me to believe you have
ever been faithful and true to the one who has never for-
gotten his early love for you, or that memorable event
that took place under the mistletoe."
Helen said nothing, and they both watched a king-
fisher dive from a tree on the shore and arise from the
water in a moment with its prey, a small fish, in its bill.
" How cruel !" cried Helen, as she watched the bird
fly away and resume its perch upon the overhanging limb.
" Was I cruel in telling you of my love, Helen ?"
" No, no ! I mean the kingfisher was cruel to seize
hat poor, innocent minnow, to which life must have
een as sweet as to any other living creature."
" Of what account is a minnow, Helen, or, in fact,
11 the fish in the Bay of Quinte, where a man's love is
volved ?"
" Do you think love is actually the power that has
fluenced you, Walter? You have mentioned the mistle-
event in our early years, but since that time until the
307
THE OLD LOYALIST
present moment you have never expressed one word of
love for me, whatever may have been your thoughts and
feelings."
" True, Helen, never a word, but actions speak
louder than words. You surely have known I loved you.
No one else has ever occupied a place in my affections.
But I must candidly confess I never realized before now
how essential you are to my future happiness. Brought
up as we have been in the same family, I feared in early
years that my regard for you was not reciprocated,
beyond that friendship one naturally entertains for any
intimate friend of childhood days. Consequently, I have
been restrained from confessing my love to you, believ-
ing that time would reveal to each of us if we were
intended for each other. I do so now, Helen, and
earnestly hope you will overlook my seeming neglect,
and here and now consent to become my darling wife,
for I love you with all my heart."
Their eyes met, and then Helen slowly answered:
" Had I not always loved you, Walter, with all my
powers of affection, this confession of love on your part,
at this late day, would scarcely have been possible, since
I would ere this probably have been the wife of another.
But throughout all the years of my life since that
memorable night in my youth of which you have just
spoken, I have felt that I belonged to you, and that you
belonged to me. It has been a long, weary wait, with
many misgivings and fears at times that perhaps another
occupied the chief place in your heart. However, I have
been faithful my heart has been true, as you say and
at last I am rewarded amply with your confession of love
for me, which I feel assured comes from an honest
heart,"
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ANOTHER MISTLETOE CONTRACT
"Then you will be mine, dearest Helen?" exclaimed
Walter, rising to his feet and clasping her in his arms.
" Yes, Walter," Helen replied, and yielded herself
to his loving embrace. Thus was the old contract
revived and sealed.
Walter kissed her again and again, until a red
squirrel, perched on a limb of a tree close by, became
greatly alarmed and scolded them with all the fierceness
it could command, threatening at last to jump down
upon their shoulders.
" You told me, Helen dear, there was another whose
wife you possibly would have become. Do you care to
mention his name ? I will not urge you, if you do not so
desire, but I have a curiosity to know him."
" Yes, I prefer telling you, Walter. He has always
been a good friend of our family, and is one of my
noblest and most trustworthy friends to-day. I refer to
our pastor, Rev. Charles Picton, whose request I denied,
jowing to the fact that I felt I belonged to you."
Just then the dinner-horn reverberated over the still
waters from the Clinton home, and Walter and Helen
left their shady nook, waved their handkerchiefs to
Squire Clinton on the shore, tripped lightly down to the
boat, and leisurely rowed back to their home with hearts
replete with joy.
Entering the log cabin arm in arm, Helen and
Walter looked supremely happy. Mrs. Clinton noted
:he joyful expression on their faces, and quickly divined
rhe meaning. With a pleasant smile, she said : " You
wo children seem very happy to-day; will you not tell
is the cause, Helen, and then, perhaps, we'll be happy,
oo."
"Why, grandmother, can't you guess?" Helen
nswered, with flushed cheeks. "Walter has asked me
309
THE OLD LOYALIST
to become his wife, and I have promised I would. Now,
are you not glad?"
" That is good news, indeed, children, and I'm sure
you will always be happy in each other's love," Mrs.
Clinton quietly replied, and tenderly kissed them both.
" I also am very thankful, Walter, Helen, to hear
what you say," the old Loyalist added, with manifest
pleasure.
He then placed his hands upon their heads and
bestowed upon them his heartiest blessing, as he had
previously done to the other couple in the engineering
camp far away in the wilderness of the north country.
310
CHAPTER XXIII.
THE BLACK WALNUT. BOX LEADS TO A
DISCOVERY.
Quinte Brown was exceedingly anxious that the
black walnut box, formerly belonging to Percival Clin-
ton of Virginia, should now be opened. Consequently
that afternoon Curtis broke the lock of the box, opened
the lid, and disclosed the contents to the expectant fam-
ily, seated around the table. The first article disclosed
was a gold locket lying between the papers. As Curtis
laid it down on the table, Walter and Gertrude glanced
at each other with a look of surprise. On being opened
it was found that the locket contained the picture of a
man whose face was already familiar in the lockets
which had been opened in the engineer's camp. Gertrude
and Walter immediately produced their old souvenirs
and laid them down beside the other. The three lockets
were found to be identical, and the three paintings they
contained were of one and the same man.
This unknown character was the ancestor of Walter
Earle and Gertrude Westwood, but how came his pic-
ture to be among the Clinton relics? Was this the old
keepsake James Clinton had dropped in his father's
walnut box when they were starting away from their
Virginia home for the war? Was there anything in
the walnut box that would afford any light on the sub-
ject? Who could these paintings represent?
Looking into the walnut box again, Curtis now drew
3"
THE OLD LOYALIST
forth a neatly-folded letter, which he quickly opened and
proceeded to read :
" London, England, Oct. 17th, 1774.
M Percival Clinton, Esq.,
" Virginia.
" My dear father, I am sending you by this mail
a small package containing two gold lockets, each of
which contains a miniature painting of yourself. I have
painted these pictures from the original, which you will
remember hangs in your mother's parlor in London, and
which, I understand, was made just prior to your de-
parture for Virginia.
" I thought it such an excellent portrait of you that
I decided to make three miniatures of it, having become
somewhat of a painter since I came to England. I am
keeping one for myself, and I desire you, dear father,
to hand one to each of my brothers, Edward and James,
and request them to do with their lockets what I shall
do with mine, viz., hand it down to the next generation
of my family. We can thus preserve these little memen-
toes in our respective families through the succeeding
generations and possibly they may be the means of bind-
ing us more closely together.
" I am very happy in my home here, and hope some
day to persuade my husband to join me and my darling
baby boy in making you a long visit in our dear old Vir-
ginia home, a sweet memory of which still lingers with
me.
" With the warmest love to you, my kind father,
and to my dear mother, and Edward and James, I re-
main,
"Your loving daughter,
" Margaret Clinton Earle."
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THE BLACK WALNUT BOX
Curtis put down the letter and the whole family sat
gazing at one another without uttering a word.
"What does 'it all mean, children?" the Squire ex-
claimed, after a while. " Can it be possible that " and
then he stopped, his voice too choked for utterance.
"Yes, it is possible, and clearly evident," Gertrude
cried, with great animation, " that the keepsake James
Clinton handed his father, Percival, to put into that wal-
nut box when they were starting for the war was this
third locket which Curtis has just discovered. Margaret
Clinton Earle's letter shows, too, beyond peradventure,
that Walter Earle is a descendant of Percival Clinton's
[eldest child, Margaret; that Gertrude Westwood is a
descendant of the second child, Edward; and that Curtis
and Helen Clinton are descendants of the youngest child,
Ijames."
This relationship had to be more fully explained
to Mrs. Clinton, and Helen and Quinte, who had not
leard of the previous discovery in the two lockets by
iertrude and Walter. Great rejoicing naturally fol-
)wed this wonderful revelation, that Percival Clinton
fas the forefather of the three families now represented
jn Squire Clinton's home.
"God be praised!" exclaimed the Squire. "Can
be possible that Providence has been guiding in this
wonderful manner the destiny of this divided Clinton
imily all these many years. I am prouder of my name
id of our reunited family than ever before, penniless
lough we may be."
' It would seem so, George," Mrs. Clinton replied,
and God has been using you, my dear, in effecting
lat reunion in order, perhaps, to carry out some divine
(an, which has not as yet been disclosed to us. Surely
313
THE OLD LOYALIST
1 God moves in a mysterious way,
His wonders to perform,'
in these latter days, as in the days of old."
Certain papers were then unfolded from the walnut
box, referring to the Virginia estates, which were closely
examined. These disclosed the fact that the title to
the plantation was perfect in Percival Clinton. Then a
duly executed will was found, in which, after making
liberal provision for his wife, Percival Clinton divide
his estate equally between his three children Margare
Edward and James.
Then Curtis took from the box a larger document o
heavy drawing paper, folded to the full dimensions of
the box and lying in the bottom. This proved to be the
old map of the Clinton estate in Virginia, referred to b
James Clinton in his letter, showing the lengths an
bearings of all the sides, with the Potomac river in t
front and a residence distinctly marked near the bank
of the river. There was a stone monument marked oi
the river bank, and near the centre of the basement
the building there was a distinct red circle, where ce
tain lines, indicating a pathway, terminated.
The map bore the signature in a bold handwriting
at the lower right-hand corner, " George Washingto
Surveyor," and in the opposite lower corner the na:
and date, " Richmond, Virginia, April 12th, 175 "
The men looked at one another with wonder am
amazement, after gazing intently upon the map, and thi
signature of the illustrious Washington, the founder of
a mighty nation and the father of his country.
That map quickly decided the question of the ad-
visability of making a trip to Virginia. Preparations
were completed that very day, and the following morn-
ing the four men of the Clinton household took the
3M
ne
2
THE BLACK WALNUT BOX
steamer for Kingston. From thence they crossed to the
Cape, and sped away southward to New York, and on to
Richmond, Virginia, without a moment's delay.
A few days later, in an open field on the west bank
of the Potomac, they were thus accosted: "Well,
stranger, I reckon we're going to have another railroad
through this part of Virginia by the looks of things.
Pretty expensive, though, to bridge the old Potomac
where your old instrument is pointing. Easy matter
to make surveys ; but it takes a power of money to build
railroads, eh, boss, whatever your name might be?"
The speaker was a tall, slim, rough-looking individual,
who, with hands shoved down into his trousers pockets,
sauntered up to a group of men standing round an
engineer's transit, with suspended plumb-bob, with one
of the men engaged in turning screws and otherwise ad-
justing the instrument.
" Right you are, my friend," replied Walter Earle,
as he now peered through the telescope and focussed the
object-glass on a distant point. " It takes a lot of money
to build railways, but the country must have them, you
know, in this progressive day and age of the world."
" Yes, you bet your life, railroads are a great neces-
sity. What road be you surveying for here, boss?"
" Oh, this is just a little private survey we are mak-
ing to locate an old landmark or two in this locality.
No railroad is designed this time, my friend. Could
you tell me the owner of this farm?"
" Well, boss, I reckon I own a few feet hereabouts,"
said the old farmer, proudly, as he relieved himself of
a mouthful of tobacco juice, and taking out his jack-
knife, began to whittle a stick he picked up from the
ground.
" What is your name, please ?" Walter demanded.
3*5
THE OLD LOYALIST r " " *'
" My name is March." '
" Oh, yes, Samuel March. I've heard of you. Glad
to meet you, Mr. March," replied Walter, as he extended
his hand to the stranger.
" How do you know my name, boss ? I haven't any
recollection of ever seeing you before. Don't live around
here, do you?"
" No, sir. I'm a stranger here ; but I saw your name
in the Registry Office as the owner of this land. I in-
tended to hunt you up and ask your permission to look
for a couple of old graves somewhere about here, where
some of my ancestors were buried many years ago. We
were just investigating a little to make sure if this is
the right spot."
" What might your name be, boss ?"
" My name is Earle. Walter Earle."
" Never heard of anyone of that name living in this
part of the country, and I've lived here well-nigh fifty
years."
" No, I presume not, Mr. March. The name of my
ancestor was Clinton Percival Clinton who, from the
records I have found, lived on a large plantation in this
locality long ago, when this country belonged to Eng-
land. These two men with me here are George Clinton
and his grandson, Curtis Clinton, and this old colored
man is Moses Brown."
" Glad to know you all," said March, as he curtly
bowed and then shook hands with each member of the
party. After a few general remarks, Walter resumed :
"A son of Percival Clinton went to Canada, Mr.
March, after the Revolutionary war. and these Clintons
are his descendants. We heard about the grave of
Percival Clinton and his wife being here, and thought
we would like to find them if possible and carry what
316
THE BLACK WALNUT BOX
remains of their dust over to Canada, where their son
is buried, and all his descendants. I suppose you will
have no objection?"
" Then you folks are all from Canada, eh, Earle ?
We don't see many of you Canucks down here in Vir-
ginia not bad-looking chaps, by any means, to come
from that Polar region."
" Yes, we have just come from Canada, and would
like to go back as quickly as possible. Of course we
will gladly pay you for any damage we do in digging
up your soil, and for the other privileges we are asking."
" That's all right, boss. You Canucks jist go ahead
and dig round here all you like and take away as much
dust as you please. Virginia soil ain't so rich but what
I can spare a few odd pounds to take to Canada for
transplanting your old ancestors in, if you think they'll
rest any more comfortable there till the judgment day,
which I very much doubt."
" Thank you, Mr. March. We appreciate your kind-
ness very much. There should be an old house founda-
tion near here, where Percival Clinton lived, and we
would like to do a little excavating and see if we can
find it, if you do not object."
"What kind of people are you Canucks, anyway?"
said March. " It must keep you hustling to keep track
of all your dead families. It makes us Virginians hump
along to look after the living, and sometimes we don't
do that as well as we ought to. Go ahead, though, and
hunt up the old foundation and graves if you can find
them, only fill up the holes when you get through, and
don't damage the trees."
" Thank you, sir, and here's twenty-five dollars for
the privileges you have given us," Walter answered, as
he proceeded to count out some bills.
3i7
THE OLD LOYALIST
" No ! Hang it all, boss ! Keep your money. I'm
pretty hard up, like some of my neighbors hereabouts,
but since we all have some good Virginia blood in our
veins, I won't charge you anything for doing a little
burrowin' on my property. Go ahead, and good-bye to
you all and safe journey home."
The old farmer, whistling " Marching Through
. Georgia," now shuffled away across the field to resume
his labors, where he had left his team standing attached
to a plow.
"Bless my soul, Walter," declared the Squire,
"you're a born diplomat. I thought you had run
against a snag that time, sure, but you managed your
case with great skill."
"A decent old head, that, Squire Clinton, and his
heart's in the right place, too. I wonder if all Virginians
to-day are built on those lines? He would do for a
Loyalist of pre-revolutionary days."
" Do you feel sure about this stone monument, Wal-
ter, being the one shown on Washington's map?" asked
Curtis.
" No, not yet, Curtis. Where is your walnut box?
Just get your plan now and let us compare it with the
layout here."
Curtis Clinton unfolded the old map, which had done
duty a century before in that spot. After examining it,
Walter said:
" Observe, now, the plan shows a stone monument
six inches square and twelve inches above ground, which
agrees, as you see, with this one under my instrument.
Now, let us check this distance of fifty feet to the bank
of the Potomac river. How much, Curtis?"
" Thirty-five feet, only," Curtis replied, as he read
the measurement of the tape.
" Well, that's not bad considering the river has been
3i8
THE BLACK WALNUT BOX
washing its banks for over a hundred years since the
date of that plan."
' But, Walter," interrupted the Squire, " how are
you going to find the direction of the old boundary line
of the plantation, even if this stone monument is cor-
rect? I have been looking, and there isn't a vestige of
fence left, or anything else to mark where the old
line ran."
1 Never mind that, yet, Squire Clinton. Let us see
what we do know. This monument, if it be the correct
one, is on that old boundary line, is it not?"
; Yes. It should be."
' Very well. Now, I have made a calculation of the
magnetic variation between the date of Washington's
plan and the present date, which, from such data as I
could obtain in Richmond, should be approximately
correct."
' How will that help you, Walter?"
; Look at the instrument's needle now. See, it is
ointing to the magnetic north. Now I turn it through
y calculated angle, and there it points to the north, as
t did when Washington had his compass set up over this
onument."
" I begin to see some daylight," exclaimed the Squire,
he slapped Walter on the shoulder.
" Now, Curtis, what is the bearing of this boundary
ine on your plan? All right, my boy, I have it. I will
rn off that angle from the present position of the
lescope. There, the instrument should now point
long the boundary line of the Clinton plantation, which
e are endeavoring to establish."
' Come here, Quinte, will you ?"
'What is it, Mas'r Walter?" the old darkey
swered, as he drew near to the engineer.
3 X 9 >
THE OLD LOYALIST
" You told me the graves of your master and mistress
were near the boundary fence and up some little dis-
tance from the river, did you not?"
"Yes, Mas'r Walter, suah as youah bo'n."
" Now supposing, Quinte, this to be the fence where
the instrument points. Which side of it would the
graves be?"
" Right side, Mas'r Walter."
" How far from the fence ?"
" Purty close, I specs, man's length, maybe. Prap
little moah, praps a little less, Quinte can't tell 'zactly."
" All right, Quinte. Now, we will all take a look
up this line for something that appears like a grave
The stone at the heads of the graves has doubtless been
knocked down, and perhaps carried away; but as this
rough ground has apparently never been ploughed, we
should find some evidence of a depression or a slight
mound."
The four started and looked carefully up the line,
upon which a picket was set, kicking away the dea
leaves and twigs until in a few minutes the Squire threw
his hat in the air and shouted : " Here it is, Walter ! Go(
be praised ! Here is the headstone fallen over and partly
buried in the earth."
" Turn it up, grandfather, and look for the letters,'
called out Curtis, as he rushed over and looked at th
ancient monument.
"Yes, here they are: 'J. C and 'P. C What's
* J. C/ stand for, Quinte?" shouted Squire Clinton.
" Jane Clinton, Mas'r, and ' P. C fo' Percival Cli
ton. Great God in heben! can it be dat I'm standin
ober de grabes ob my deah ol' Mas'r an' Missus on
moah?"
" Nothing surer, Quinte," Walter replied. " No
320
THE BLACK WALNUT BOX
let us go back to the instrument, Curtis, and I'll turn
the angle given on the plan from this boundary line to
the wine-cellar door of Percival Clinton's house. We
will then measure up the distance Washington gives on
his plan from the stone monument, and see if we can
discover any trace of this mysterious wine cellar."
" Specs I can open up dis grabe now wif my pick
an' shovel, Mas'r Clinton?" said Quinte, as he divested
himself of coat and vest, rolled up his shirt sleeves and
prepared for action, as in the days gone by in the Loyalist
graveyard in Canada.
" Yes, Quinte. Go ahead. You have dug a good
many Loyalist graves in your day. How many, do you
suppose ?"
" Golly, Mas'r Clinton. Don't know. Whole grave-
yard full. Specs dis will be de las' one ol' Quinte will
dig."
" The first shall be last and the last first, eh, Quinte?"
" Yes, sah, Mas'r Clinton. Dat's true. Suah Mas'r
Percival heah, was de fust Loyalist in youah fambly dat
we buried an' now he'll be de last. Hope dar is some-
thin' lef in dis ol' grabe to carry home."
The Squire left the grave-digger hard at work with
his shovel, and walking over to where Walter and Curtis
were standing with picket and steel tape, remarked :
"Well, Walter, what do you find?"
" I find the trunk of this immense oak tree right on
the line of my instrument, which is now pointing in the
direction of the wine cellar."
"Nothing could be truer, Walter, for the map here
shows a little black dot on the line about this point
marked ' Oak Sapling ' in very small letters." And Cur-
tis showed Walter the spot.
21 3 2I
THE OLD LOYALIST
" Yes, but ' Oak Sapling ' is not a sturdy tree three
feet in diameter, Curtis," interrupted the Squire.
" Quite true, but how large was this tree do you
suppose when Washington made the survey?"
" Right you are again, Walter. What a thick-headed
old goat I am, anyway. But don't let me bother you
any more."
" Now then, Curtis, let us measure right on in this
line the balance of our distance. There, now, the door
of that wine cellar should be somewhere in gun-shot of
this picket. Just bring a shovel and let us see if we
can find anything."
The Squire lost no time in getting to work digging
in the spot indicated, and in a few minutes uncovered a
long, narrow, flat stone worn smooth on the surface.
" What have you struck now ?" exclaimed Walter,
exultantly.
" A stone door-sill, as sure as your name is Earle."
" Very well. You may now bring up the instrument,
Curtis, and we'll set up in the centre of this door-sill."
Then, with the instrument set in the line of the centre
of the oak tree we shall turn off the angle shown on your
plan, and that should give us the line of tunnel into
the rock."
"Well, Walter, my boy," said Squire Clinton, ex
citedly, " it begins to look as though you were on the
very tracks of old Percival Clinton for sure. We'll stick
to them now, my good fellow, until we find where they
lead us."
In a few minutes Walter had his instrument set up
on the door sill ; then, turning off the angle required by
the map, he said, " Now, Curtis, hold your picket back
a few feet on this line. There you are. Right a little,
left an inch, down! We'll tackle this bank of earth
32a
;
TPIE BLACK WALNUT BOX
now, Squire Clinton. Let me give you a hand with
another shovel, while Curtis, the weak invalid, gives us
line through the instrument."
The surface was about level back from the door-sill
for a short distance, beyond which was a bank of loose
earth, and beyond the bank a ledge of rock. The shovels
moved rapidly for the next few minutes and the earth
flew in all directions. The sweat dripped copiously from
the faces of the laborers, yet on they worked as though
their lives depended upon digging through that bank
in the shortest space of time possible.
Bang! went the shovel a little later.
"What's that you struck, grandfather?" shouted
Curtis, as he came running up to the pit.
1 Solid rock, my boy, on this side the mouth of a
tunnel filled with this loose earth, as sure as my name's
George Clinton."
A few more minutes' work opened up the entrance
to a passage in the rock, which could now be distinctly
seen, extending back for some distance. They dug away
the earth until at last Walter climbed down into the
tunnel, and feeling his way by striking his shovel on the
rock floor, advanced into the chamber to the remotest
id.
" Now, Curtis, one more measurement here, and then
>ur exploration is done. Hold the zero of your tape
it the centre of the door sill, and sing out that last
leasurement on your map."
' All right here, Walter. Measure thirty feet, six
ind one-half inches," called out Curtis from the instru-
lent.
" Correct. Come ahead and strike a match, Curtis,
js the floor here is in perfect darkness."
The match was lit and all three men bent down and
323
THE OLD LOYALIST
eagerly gazed around the iron point of Walter's picket.
"There it is!" Walter shouted, excitedly, which
made the others jump as though he were pointing to a
snake.
" There is what ?" cried Curtis.
" A crack, a joint in the rock. Can't you see it
here?" and Walter ran the point of his picket along a
slight groove. Another match was struck and Walter
moved the picket point round the four sides of a block
of stone, scratching out the dirt in the joints. The block
was about eighteen inches square.
" There's the lid of your vault, Squire Clinton, and
here in the centre there should be an iron ring with
staple imbedded in the rock. Certainly. Here it is,
covered with the earth."
The staple head and ring were bedded down in the
rock so that they did not project above the surface, and
a little loose earth in the cavity hid the ring completely.
" Now another match, Curtis." exclaimed Walter,
"and look out for your toes, for I'm going to swing
this lid out of its position if possible. There it goes like
a charm. Hold your light down there in the opening,
and look and see if old Percival left any good wine in his
secret vault."
Lying down on his stomach, with the lighted match
in his hand, which he thrust into the vault. Curtis Clin-
ton looked inside and saw a sight which made his heac*
swim. There lay a large heap of glittering, gold, Eng
lish guineas, filling the vault solid to the four walls
and reaching up almost to the brim.
"Heavens on earth, men, we're millionaires!" gasnec
Curtis, as he withdrew his pale face, rose to his feel
and stared at the other two in utter amazement. H<
breathlessly motioned for Walter to examine the in
terior. 324
!
THE BLACK WALNUT BOX
The latter bent down, and by the light of another
match gazed on the long-hidden treasure with wide, pro-
truding eyes.
" There's enough gold in that pile, surely, to place
the Clinton family beyond the possibility of want," said
Walter, as he arose. " Let me see, eighteen inches
square is about the size of the vault. That requires a
depth of between five and six inches to make a cubic
foot of gold and about three cubic feet of gold is worth
a million dollars. I wonder how deep the vault is?"
Squire Clinton wildly stared at the two young men
for some moments without uttering a word. Then he
rushed out and shouted for the old grave-digger, who
quickly came tottering along as fast as his uncertain
legs could carry him, puffing and sweating and wonder-
ing what all the excitement was about. As he drew
near, Squire Clinton said:
" Come on, Quinte, and you and I will see the prize
together."
" See what, Mas'r Clinton ? What hab you foun'
in de wine cellar? Some good wine? Golly, it ought
to be in prime condition arter all dem yeahs."
" Strike a light, now, Curtis," eagerly demanded his
grandfather, " and let me see what Quinte's old, black
walnut box and James Clinton's letter have done for us."
The Squire bent down and peered into the treasure
hole for a long time, and taking some of the yellow coin
in his hand, raised it up, looked at it and showed it to
Quinte.
"God of my fathers!" was all the Squire could
utter, as he arose and walked away toward the graves
of his ancestors, trembling from head to foot.
Quinte now stooped down slowly and looked at the
great heap of gold. He scooped it up in his hand, gazed
325
THE OLD LOYALIST
at it closely, laughed aloud, and then twisted his head
around to see Walter and Curtis.
" Golly, boys I" he exclaimed as he arose, " dat ol'
walnut box was worf keepin', arter all. Mus' be a few
tousand dollahs dar, anyway. Whew! Buy de ol' Bay
ob Quinte homestead back wif good, clean Clinton
gold. Wish poo' ol' Mas'r James Clinton was heah now
to help enjoy it. Wondah if ol' Mas'r Percival ain't
lookin' down from heben dis minut' an clappin' his han's
fo' joy. He knowed how to fool dem sha'p Yankees
what confiscated his plantation, didn't he? Golly, Mas'r
Percival, I'll go ober to youah grave now an' see if I
can't fin' jes a little ob youah dust an' ob the Missus, too,
to take back to Canada 'long wid all youah heaps ob
gold. Won't Helen an' Missus an' Gertie be glad when
dey heah de good news? P'raps it was all fo' de best dat
I kept dat walnut box, arter all. Quinte has been ob
some use in dis worl', I guess. Now he's ready to jine
his ol' Mas'r and Missus in de better land beyond; but
dese old bones must rest in de Loyalist graveyard on de
shoah ob de Bay ob Quinte, along wif Mas'r Percival
an' all de Clinton family."
326
CHAPTER XXIV.
VIRGINIA TREASURES RESTORED.
As the sun was nearing the western horizon that
afternoon, Squire Clinton stood on the shore gazing at
a brigantine slowly descending the river. There was
scarcely a breath of wind blowing, and the vessel, on
one tack, came in very close to the spot with low banks
where he was standing. He read the name of the large
vessel, The Evangeline, and called out loudly : " Hello,
Captain! Where are you bound for?"
" The Annapolis Basin, in Nova Scotia, sir," quickly
came the response from a tall, stout man, leisurely
sitting in the stern of the vessel, smoking his pipe and
reading a book.
" Have you a full cargo, Captain ?"
" No, sir. I have some room below."
" Have you any empty bags or sacks on board ?"
" Yes. Plenty of them empty grain sacks."
"Will you carry a few sacks of "
Here the Squire hesitated and stammered, but
Walter, coming up at the moment, shouted : " Some
sand, Captain. A few hundred sacks of sand. We'll pay
you well for your services if you'll carry these and four
passengers to your destination in Nova Scotia."
" We have plenty of room, sir," the Captain replied,
with a genial air and quickly gave orders to furl the
sails, steer for the landing-place, and then to cast the
anchor.
" Walter, you're a trump," exclaimed the Squire, in
3 2 7
THE OLD LOYALIST
a low voice, as he slapped the former on the shoulder.
" Your slow-witted old grandfather could not have
arranged matters so cleverly, and, forsooth, came near
giving the whole business away."
"We'll put some sand and gravel, you see, in the
bottom of each sack, Squire Clinton; then some gold
coin, then more sand on top, and no one will ever have
the slightest suspicion of the value of our freight."
" Splendid idea, Walter. Nothing could be better."
The Captain sent several of his crew ashore in a
yawl with a large pile of sacks. The Squire whispered
to Walter and Curtis : " Now, boys, you carefully fill
the sacks, and carry them down part way to the shore, and
I will see that the crew take them safely aboard. Thus
they will never get their eyes on our yellow goods. If
they did, it might possibly lead to a mutiny; but don't
make your sacks too heavy say, twenty-five to fifty
pounds each. Be sure there are no holes in them, and
tie them good and tight."
The scheme worked like a charm. Sack after sack
was made ready by Walter and Curtis, with several
double handfuls of shining guineas imbedded within the
sand and gravel. These were tied firmly, and carried
down to Squire Clinton, who stood near the river's bank.
The crew here took charge of them and carried them
aboard The Evangeline. Rapid progress was made, so
that in the course of a few hours all the gold coins were
extracted from the vault, mixed in the sacks of sand, and
carried aboard the brigantine.
In the meantime Quinte had completed his task of
disclosing what little dust remained within the confines
of the badly decayed coffins in the two old Loyalists'
graves which he had opened.
Curtis removed the papers from the black walnut
328
VIRGINIA TREASURES RESTORED
box, and into this old receptacle were deposited the few
handfuls of dust remaining of Percival Clinton and his
wife, Jane. This was carried on board; also the head-
stone that had marked those ancient graves.
Soon all was in readiness, when Captain Hooper,
lifting anchor and loosening the sheets, put his staunch
bark under motion, under a freshening breeze, and
slowly glided down the river toward the sea.
While at dinner in the cabin that evening the Captain
said : " What peculiar quality has the sand of Virginia,
Mr. Clinton, that warrants you in shipping it to Nova
Scotia?"
Squire Clinton was ready with an answer now with-
out any hesitation, for he felt everything was secure.
" That property, Captain Hooper, at one time be-
longed to one of my forefathers, who, with his wife,
was buried there. They were United Empire Loyalists.
We have dug up the remains of these Loyalists and are
taking their dust to the Bay of Quinte in Ontario, to
deposit beside their descendants. We are taking along
some old Virginia soil as well, with which we shall fill
up the newly-made graves in the cemetery where all my
ancestors have been buried."
" That's a very good idea, but it makes rather an
expensive transplanting, I should imagine. I've carried
nearly every kind of commodity in The Evangeline, but
this is the first time I've ever carried sand, except for
ballast. However, it's all the same to me."
" We don't mind a little expense, Captain, since it
comes out of an estate this old Loyalist ancestor left for
his descendants."
" Oh, I see now, Mr. Clinton that explains the
mystery."
" How do you happen to be up the Potomac, Cap-
329
THE OLD LOYALIST
tain?" asked Walter, who was a little anxious to change
the subject at that moment, not knowing just where it
might lead.
" I am on my return trip from the West Indies, and
had on board a family who were originally from Vir-
ginia. They offered to make it worth while if I would
carry them up the river a short distance to where they
formerly resided. I complied with their request, and
put them safely off, and was returning when you hailed
me. Strange that I should meet another family here,
so soon after, desiring to go to Nova Scotia. However,
that's what we're in this business for, and I trust you
will feel perfectly at home aboard our staunch craft."
" What will be the prospect, Captain," asked Curtis,
" when we get to the end of your present voyage, of
finding a small steamer in Nova Scotia to carry us round
the coast and up the St. Lawrence to Lake Ontario? a
special trip, of course, for which we are willing to pay
liberally."
" I think I can manage it for you without any diffi-
culty, as there are always some small steamers coasting
along the Bay of Fundy and into the Annapolis Basin."
" Thank you, Captain, and don't consider the ex-
pense," said Curtis, who felt he was now a veritable King
Midas.
Thus these important matters were satisfactorily
explained and arranged, and Squire Clinton and his
party settled down for a long, pleasant voyage up the
Atlantic coast of several days' duration.
Nothing out of the ordinary occurred while they
were at sea. The wind was in their favor, and they
sailed along at a good average speed, day and night.
The weather was all that could be desired, and the pas-
sengers spent most of the hours of the day on deck,
33o
VIRGINIA TREASURES RESTORED
chatting with the genial captain or some of his crew, and
learning many things of interest in the sailing of a ship
and of the extensive carrying trade between Nova Scotia
and the various ports visited by The Evangeline in the
West Indies and South America.
As they entered the Bay of Fundy, Captain Hooper
explained all about the high tides and " the bore " of
this peculiar inland sea, and related many thrilling per-
sonal experiences on its treacherous waters. Then the
captain swerved from his course up the bay, and, heading
for the south, passed through the narrow " Digby Cut,"
with high spruce-crowned hills on either side. Entering
the Annapolis Basin, his passengers were delighted with
the panoramic view displayed. They saw the narrow,
land-locked basin, some twenty miles long, flanked with
terraces on either side, one above another, extending up
and back to the summit of ranges of hills of considerable
altitude.
Old-fashioned farm buildings were seen to decorate
the terraces here and there, while herring weirs extended
out in the Basin at intervals along its course. Crowning
the heights on either side were large quantities of
spruce, forming a charming background to the delightful
scene spread out before them.
The tide was nearing its full as they entered the
Basin, and was now beginning to ebb as The Evangeline
reached her landing-place at Annapolis Royal, at the
easterly extremity thereof, a quiet, old-fashioned town,
which had known better days.
Captain Hooper at once arranged with the owners of
a small steamer plying between Annapolis and Digby to
convey the Clintons and their freight around the coast
and up the St. Lawrence, and agreed to personally take
33i
THE OLD LOYALIST
command of the steamer as soon as the transfer of these
sacks of sand could be effected.
While awaiting the steamer's return from Digby,
the captain took his passengers ashore and showed them
over the quaint town, the site of the old fortress, with
the deep moat surrounding it, and the burying-ground
close by, where English and French were interred side
by side in those early years when this spot was the
scene of so many fierce struggles between England and
France.
As they walked around the deep, wide moat and
over the bare hill overlooking the Basin, where once
stood the fort, Captain Hooper said : " This is one of the
most historic places in the Dominion, and worthy of
some study at your leisure. Longfellow did not over-
look it in his story of Evangeline, for he says, you
remember, in reference to the French-Acadian settle-
ment at Grand Pre : ' And well I remember a story that
often consoled me, when as a captive I lay in the old
French fort at Fort Royal.' "
As soon as The Digby arrived, she was brought
alongside The Evangeline, whose hatches were now
opened, and the sacks of sand and gold were transferred
to the small steamer. The Clintons carefully superin-
tended the transfer, counted the sacks, and found that
the number corresponded accurately with that placed
aboard ship in Virginia.
Immediately the bell sounded and the steamer started
on her long trip out of the Basin, through the Bay of
Fundy, around the coast and into the Gulf, and up that
great chain of waters which Quinte had navigated just
one hundred years before in company with the New
York Loyalist expedition.
The old man would sit for hours holding imaginary
332
VIRGINIA TREASURES RESTORED
converse with his old masters long since dead, while
gazing upon the changing scenery from day to day.
His friends, observing his peculiar state of mind, left
him alone in his quiet reveries. The undue exertion and
excitement had visibly affected the faithful old servant,
and his end, they thought, was doubtless drawing near.
No more stops were made than were absolutely
necessary. The machinery of the little craft worked to
perfection throughout the entire trip. It was but a few
days until, passing Montreal, they entered the locks and
reaches of the St. Lawrence River, and arrived in the
Bay of Quinte.
On a perfect June evening, just as the sun was dis-
appearing in the west, fringing the clouds with varied
gorgeous hues. The Digby blew a shrill whistle in front
of Quinte Brown's cabin, as she turned her course toward
the wharf. Her delighted passengers gave a lusty cheer
to attract the attention of the family. Mrs. Clinton,
Helen, and Gertrude, upon recognizing their friends,
waved their handkerchiefs and rushed to the dock to
welcome them.
The steamer had scarcely touched the wharf when
Curtis and Walter bounded off and soon became locked
in the arms of Gertrude and Helen respectively. Then
there was a cordial greeting all round, and much delight
was expressed by the women in finding that the men had
safely returned from a most successful expedition.
Now for the first time since leaving Virginia was
the question raised of compensation for the services of
Captain Hooper. As soon as the cargo was discharged,
Squire Clinton demanded : " How much do we owe you,
Captain ?"
" I scarcely know, Mr. Clinton. I don't wish to
charge you too much ; yet my time and expenses, and the
333
THE OLD LOYALIST
chartering of this steamer amount to a considerable
sum."
" You have given us good service, Captain most
satisfactory in every respect so you must not be afraid
to make your account large enough."
An amount was named with a good deal of hesita-
tion by Captain Hooper, to which Squire Clinton re-
plied :
" All right, Captain ; we will be back in a few min-
utes."
Then, turning to the young men, he said : " Here,
Curtis and Walter, let us each carry a sack over to the
cabin with us, and we'll see if we can find enough money
in the family to pay this account."
Each of the men shouldered a sack of sand, and,
ascending the pathway, the Squire led the way into the
cabin, untied his sack, and poured the contents out in
the middle of the floor, to the utter consternation of the
women.
" Goodness sakes alive, George !" exclaimed Mrs.
Clinton, as she stood aghast at his strange action, " have
you gone stark mad, to empty your bag of dirt out in
the centre of my clean floor? I scrubbed it well this very
afternoon."
" Come here, Mary, Helen, and Gertie," said Squire
Clinton, wiping his forehead and bringing the light near.
" Get down and closely examine that pile of dirt, and
see what you think of the soil of old Virginia."
The three women complied with the strange request,
and, bending over, stirred the sand and gravel about,
until Mrs. Clinton remarked, with excitement :
" Why, George, here's a gold coin, someone has
dropped a guinea, I should say, from the looks of it !"
" And here are two more !" cried Helen, with exulta-
334
VIRGINIA TREASURES RESTORED
tion, a few minutes later. " They look as fresh as
though they had just come from a mint."
" And here are a whole handful !" exclaimed Ger-
trude, loudly, as she stepped nearer the light and
examined them one by one, with evident pleasure. The
Squire smiled, and the young men looked on with much
satisfaction and delight.
Captain Hooper glanced up with marked surprise
when Squire Clinton, a few minutes later, brought forth
a bag of British guineas a practically obsolete coin in
Canada. It was explained that they were probably
worth their face value, but that, in order to compensate
him for any loss that might be sustained in exchange or
depreciation, an extra handful of guineas had been
added to the number necessary to make up Captain
Hooper's account. This was perfectly satisfactory to
the latter, who took his gold, bade all a cordial farewell,
and immediately started on his return trip to Nova
Scotia, assured that this had been one of the most pro-
fitable voyages he had made in many a day.
After his departure, Squire Clinton, Curtis, and
Walter explained to the ladies all the particulars of the
wonderful discovery they had made in Virginia through
the information contained in George Washington's map ;
also many details about their varied experiences and
anxious, though pleasant voyage home.
After supper the men took their shovels and spades
and assisted Quinte in digging a new grave in the Clin-
ton plot in the old Loyalist cemetery. Into this Quinte
placed the black walnut box, containing the dust of the
Virginia Clintons, and while Squire Clinton repeated
the words, " Earth to earth, dust to dust, and ashes to
ashes," Quinte let fall upon the box in the grave three
335
THE OLD LOYALIST
handfuls of Virginia soil, a custom he had always pre-
served in his capacity as grave-digger.
The ancient Virginia stone slab was now carried
up from the wharf, and again erected at the head of
the grave of Mr. and Mrs. Percival Clinton. Then the
family turned their attention to the gold. Carrying the
sacks from the wharf, the men screened the sand and
dirt through a coarse sieve, and the women, by the light
of lanterns, picked out the gold coins and dropped them
into an iron potash kettle, which the men sunk below the
surface of the ground in a corner of the cemetery. The
work continued incessantly for some hours, until the coin
of the last sack was deposited safely inside the kettle.
Now the heap of sand was shovelled into sacks and
emptied into the open grave until the latter was filled to
the surface; and thus Virginia soil once more covered
the remains of these Virginia ancestors of the Clinton
family.
" There, children," said Squire Clinton, when the
task was completed and the whole family stood silently
gazing upon the immense heap of gold, on which the
dim lanterns were turned, "that treasure all belongs to
you. It must be divided into three parts, in accordance
with Percival Clinton's will. One part belongs to Mar-
garet Clinton's heir, whom we now know to be Walter
Earle; another part belongs to the family of Edward
Clinton, and consequently Gertrude Westwood, his only
living lineal successor, now rightfully inherits his por-
tion; the other part, without question, belongs to Curtis
and Helen, the last descendants of James Clinton."
After a short pause, the old Loyalist continued:
"Our good friend Quinte has about concluded his im-
portant work in this life, and, doubtless, will soon join
the saints above. We must provide him with every
33 6
VIRGINIA TREASURES RESTORED
possible comfort while he remains with us, for the won-
derful service he has rendered our family throughout
his long life. Mary and I do not require much to com-
plete our remaining days. We are quite willing to
depend upon the generosity and love of our children. Use
all you require for redeeming this old Loyalist home-
stead, and making it the most productive in the com-
munity; be generous to the needy, and always lend a
helping hand to a brother Loyalist descendant whom you
find in trouble. Above all, do not forget the tithe that
belongs to God.
"Always use your influence, my children, to make
Canada the best country on God's earth, and do all you
can to consolidate the Anglo-Saxon race in these three
great countries, which by your birth you represent. I
pray God we may become a more united people in spirit,
burying the hatchet forever, and occupying the exalted
position Providence intended our race should hold in
the vanguard of the mighty movement which has been
inaugurated for the uplifting of the whole world."
A quantity of coin sufficient to meet the requirements
of the family for some time to come was extracted from
the iron receptacle. Then the cover was carefully
adjusted, the potash kettle was covered over with earth,
and the family repaired to the old log cabin, with thank-
ful hearts that a great achievement of more than a cen-
tury's duration had been brought to a successful consum-
mation.
337
CHAPTER XXV.
THE HOME MISSION FIELD.
Numerous questions were freely discussed by the
Clinton family when seated in the cabin. Among these
were the approaching marriages of the happy couples, the
buying back of the old homestead now advertised for sale
along with the Sullivan estate, the U. E. Loyalist Cen-
tennial, the marvellous results of Charles Picton's pas-
torate in the community, the condition of Horace Sulli-
van in the asylum, and his widowed mother, who was
now penniless and heart-broken.
" We'll buy the Sullivan farm from Horace's
creditors, Curtis," said the Squire, in conclusion, " and
give it to Mrs. Sullivan during her lifetime. That will
provide the poor soul a comfortable home in her old age,
and will lighten somewhat the gloom which has come
into her life through the recklessness of her wayward
boy. We shall hope that Horace may get better and
yet become a source of comfort to his mother in the
years to come by manifesting a marked change in his
aim and object in life. Let us endeavor to forget the
past, my dear children, and help him to become a better
man, in case he recovers from his present terrible con-
dition."
Then Squire Clinton took down Quinte Brown's old
Bible, soiled, torn, and rusty with age, and read from
the one hundred and twelfth Psalm words that had fre-
quently brought comfort and peace to the soul, when the
surface of life had been disturbed :
338
THE HOME MISSION FIELD
" Praise ye the Lord. Blessed is the man that fear-
eth the Lord, that delighteth greatly in His command-
ments. His seed shall be mighty upon earth; the
generation of the upright shall be blessed. Wealth and
riches shall be in his house ; and his righteousness endur-
eth forever. Unto the upright there ariseth light in the
darkness; he is gracious, and full of compassion, and
righteous. A good man sheweth favour, and lend-
eth ; he will guide his affairs with discretion. Surely he
shall not be moved forever; the righteous shall be in
everlasting remembrance. He shall not be afraid of
evil tidings; his heart is fixed, trusting in the Lord."
They knelt in prayer, and the Squire's strong voice,
supported by a mighty faith in God, resounded through
the old log cabin, as did the voices of his forefathers in
the early history of the country. He poured out his
tribute of praise and thanksgiving for providential
mercies, and implored Divine guidance for his reunited
family in the distribution of the great wealth bestowed
upon them. Then they retired for the night, and soon
were lulled to sleep by the lapping of the gentle waves
against the shore.
While the Clinton family were slumbering that night,
Rev. Charles Picton in his lonely room, was having the
greatest struggle of his life with himself. He thought of
all Helen Clinton had been to him in his pastoral work,
in her faithful choir and organ duties, and in the social
life of the community, with which she had been very
closely identified with him for a considerable time. Then
his mind reverted to the time when, on the Lake on the
Mountain, he had told her of his love. He remembered
distinctly her answer, that there was another whom she
loved, which had suddenly shattered his hopes and cast
a gloom over his life.
339
THE OLD LOYALIST
He had not known that one during this long interval,
nor dared he enquire, owing to his solemn promise. He
had tried hard to forget, but could not, and his love for
Helen Clinton, kept subdued by sheer will-power, now
burst into a red-hot flame when he found that her loved
one had at last appeared on the scene, and that she was
indeed lost to him forever. He felt extremely sad and
dejected.
" Walter Earle is Helen's choice, then," the minister
reasoned with himself, " and a grand, good fellow he
is, who will make her a noble husband. No doubt, it
is all for the best, but, God knows, it's a hard struggle
to give up one who is so gentle and sweet and pure. She
has encouraged me to do my duty yea, has nobly
assisted me and I have tried hard to be faithful to my
calling. God has wonderfully blessed in fruitful results
my feeble efforts. My work, however, is nearly over.
A few more years at the most and I shall be called to
my reward. Yes, Charlie Picton, work on ; do your best
until you reach the goal. The pleasures of wife and
home and family are not for you in this world. Stamp
out all such hopes with an iron heel, and plod along
in life alone, giving such cheer and aid and friendly con-
solation in the dying hour to others as you may be able,
and then shuffle off this mortal coil, and be at peace for-
ever with your Creator. The blessed company who have
already crossed to that bourne from which no traveller
shall ever return will greet you in that blessed country,
and there your weariness and loneliness shall forever
cease."
In this manner did the minister converse with him-
self, reflect and pray for guidance through that long,
weary night, as he sat and knelt and paced the floor of
his bedroom until the dawn of the following day.
34o
THE HOME MISSION FIELD
When the morning sun streamed into his windows,
with its warm, cheering rays, he sat down at his writing
table and wrote a letter to the Quarterly and Trustee
Boards of his church. Hitching his horse to the buggy,
the minister rode rapidly to the post-office to mail his
epistle; but, instead of doing so, went on past the post-
office and pulled up a little later at Quinte Brown's cabin,
where he learned that the old man was feeling quite
poorly, and had not risen from his bed. He found the
Clintons at breakfast, and received a hearty salutation
from all as he entered the low log building. Declining
a generous invitation to join the family at their morning
meal, the minister, still standing, said in a low voice, in
which there was a distinct note of sadness :
" I've come to tell you I'm giving up my pastorate
here, and am going away into the Northern mission-fields
again, where I feel there is a greater work for me to do."
" Nonsense, Charlie Picton ! We'll permit nothing
of the kind," Squire Clinton said, in a loud, firm tone.
" The approaching Centennial celebration will be due
largely to your suggestions, and now, just when so im-
portant an event is about to be consummated and the
name of this locality made illustrious, you give up your
work here and go back among those heathen of the north
again. No, sir! Not if George Clinton can prevent it."
" You must not think of such a thing, Mr. Picton,"
exclaimed Mrs. Clinton, with disappointment in both
voice and countenance. " We could not get along with-
out you."
Gertrude and Helen made protests, and Walter and
Curtis declared disapproval of such a step, but all in vain.
" I'm going, friends that is all settled and here is
my letter of resignation I wrote this morning and am
about to mail. I thought before doing so, however, I
341
THE OLD LOYALIST
would read it over to you and your family, Squire Clin-
ton, before giving it to the public. Do you care to hear
it?"
Of course, everyone was anxious to hear what the
minister had written to his people in regard to the unex-
pected decision he had made to leave his field of labor.
Having finished their meal, the family pushed back from
the table, and the minister took a seat and read aloud :
" Sincerely believing that a greater field of usefulness
in the Master's service is to be found in the mission field
of the backwoods of Canada, where I successfully
labored for several years, I have decided, after much
thought and consideration to now resign my position as
pastor of your church, and at the close of the Centennial,
within the next few days, to start for my former field of
labor, where the demands are greater than ever.
" I am taking this step, not because I believe my work
has been an entire failure in this community, nor yet on
account of any grievance. I have been treated with the
utmost courtesy and respect by all my people, and shall
carry away with me pleasant recollections of the kindness
of everyone in this, my native Loyalist settlement.
" While the people here are intelligent and prosper-
ous, and capable of supporting a minister of the gospel,
yonder in the fields where I was stationed are many
noble-hearted but extremely poor people, who rarely hear
the message of salvation. The former prosperity of
those regions vanished largely when the great pine for-
ests were cut into sawlogs and floated down the streams
and rivers of the interior, to be manufactured into lum-
ber. There was plenty of work for everyone, and a good,
living wage in those active years of the past. But to-day
that north country is not so prosperous to those fellow-
Canadians many of them Loyalist descendants and to
342
THE HOME MISSION FIELD
others, poor and unfortunate, scattered here and there
throughout our country. Many are prosperous, it is true,
but my sympathies are drawn out toward the poor.
" I am going in the footsteps, I believe, of my Master,
to proclaim His salvation. I am persuaded I shall accom-
plish some good if His guidance is vouchsafed to me
during the remaining years of my life, however few or
many these may be.
"You will kindly accept this resignation as soon as
convenient, as I am already making preparations for my
departure. I trust my successor, whoever he may be,
may meet with the kind consideration you have invari-
ably extended to me."
There was no question now in the mind of any mem-
ber of the Clinton family concerning Rev. Charles
Picton's determination to resign his pastorate. The
spirit of the letter and the manner and voice of the man
convinced everyone that there would be no turning aside
from his purpose. What was the real purpose? This
question immediately arose in the mind of the old Loyal-
ist, as he sat at the head of his table with eyes fixed on
the minister while he read, and then folded and put away
his letter. The Squire determined to find out.
" It would seem, Charlie," said he, slowly, " as
though you desired a wider sphere of usefulness in your
ministry especially among the poor and unfortunate
without any thought of your own comfort. Is that what
you mean?"
" That about expresses my views, Squire Clinton."
" And what about your remuneration for services ?"
" I am willing to leave that in the hands of One who
is wiser than I am, Squire Clinton, who has promised to
provide for His faithful servants."
" Then be a missionary over all Canada, Charles Pic-
343
THE OLD LOYALIST
ton yea, the world, for your parish, like John Wesley,
our Church's founder," cried the old Loyalist, as he arose
from his chair, walked over and grasped the minister by
the hand and fixed his kindly eyes upon him. The Squire
was evidently satisfied.
"What do you mean, Squire Clinton?" asked the
minister, as he rose to his feet and met the steady gaze
of the former.
" I mean this, sir, that you shall be liberally sup-
ported by the Clinton family yea, more you shall have
a goodly sum placed at your disposal for the help of
others in actual want if you will proceed with the mission
you have just outlined to us, not confining your efforts
to the north land you speak of, but covering our whole
country from ocean to ocean, thus carrying the Master's
message to all our poor and unfortunate citizens. Will
you do it? I ask you in the name of the whole Clinton
family."
"Yes, Squire Clinton."
" Then, God bless you and prosper you."
The Squire now explained to the minister the result
of their expedition to Virginia, which placed abundant
means in the hands of the Clinton family, not only for
redeeming the old homestead and providing for their
necessities for all future time, but also to permit of a
fund for just such Christian work as the minister had
suggested, but in a much less limited sphere. This proved
to be the very work the latter strongly desired to enter.
When Curtis and Walter, following the minister to
his buggy, announced their approaching marriage,
Charlie Picton urged them to arrange for it to take place
at the time of the Centennial, to which the young men,
after some persuasion, agreed, since that would be a most
344
THE HOME MISSION FIELD
memorable occasion in the history of the whole settle-
ment.
Rev. Charles Picton, having learned all the circum-
stances of the reunion of the Clinton family and their
recent discoveries, concluded this double marriage would
be a most important event for the Centennial. That very
day he wrote a letter to Ottawa, to Canada's Premier,
urging him by all means to be present at the Centennial,
in order that justice might be done his old friend and
supporter, Squire George Clinton, and the various mem-
bers of his family.
345
CHAPTER XXVI.
AN UNEXPECTED CENTENNIAL EPISODE.
At a certain prescribed hour of the following day
the Clinton homestead was advertised to be sold by auc-
tion sale to the highest bidder, if the latter's offer ex-
ceeded a certain reserve bid the auctioneer retained.
The creditors of the Sullivan estate, and of the Clin-
ton property as well, had been advised that there would
be a lively competition for the Clinton farm one of the
best in the country and consequently they would not
permit a private sale of the farm, anxious as they were
to realize the utmost price.
Squire Clinton was on hand early and patiently
listened to many expressions of sympathy over the loss
of his old family homestead, and his inability to recover
it. Not a word did he mention to any one outside the
family, save Rev. Charles Picton, about Percival Clin-
ton's treasures.
The bids were slow at first, causing the auctioneer
to dilate at some length upon the merits of this farm
and the opportunity the people were missing. Then the
bidders warmed up and shouted their offers of one hun-
dred dollars' advance each time from all parts of the
building.
Squire Clinton glanced from one to another of his
neighbors, who were bidding, but not a word did he
utter himself. The bids went higher and higher and the
contestants grew less and less until there were onfy two
346
AN UNEXPECTED CENTENNIAL EPISODE
competitors in the ring. Soon one of these began to
falter as the price had gone beyond anyone's expecta-
tions.
The old Loyalist, anxious to see what value his
neighbors placed upon his property, could scarcely sup-
press a smile as, catching the auctioneer's eye, he nodded
a new offer. This spurred up each of the other con-
testants and several more bids followed; but soon the
third party dropped out, and then Farmer Jones, the
noisy bidder, and Squire Clinton, the silent, unknown
one, were the only competitors in the field.
The price continued to soar, as Farmer Jones was a
wealthy Englishman in the settlement, and being very
determined, had resolved on becoming the owner of the
first Loyalist homestead selected in the settlement. He
tried to discover his opponent by watching the auc-
tioneer's eyes; but the latter were well accustomed to
discovering a nod or even a wink of assent, without dis-
closing the party.
The end came at last, and the cry, " going ! going !
going!" bringing no response, the auctioneer proudly
proclaimed, "and sold to Squire George Clinton, the
former owner of the best farm on the Bay of Quinte."
There was a great buzz of excitement at this an-
nouncement, and every one wondered where the money
was to come from. Then the Sullivan farm was offered,
and in a short time it, too, was purchased by Squire
Clinton, who made the requisite cash deposit in glitter-
ing gold coin, and quietly asserted payment in full for
the two farms would be made in Canadian currency as
soon as the legal papers were ready.
The Clinton family removed to their old home the
following day with great rejoicing, each of the young
people vigorously working in cleaning the house, re-
347
THE OLD LOYALIST
placing carpets and curtains and carrying in the furni-
ture.
Rev. Charles Picton was there and lent a helping
hand. The mirth and happiness of the family proved
contagious, and soon the pastor joined in the general
pleasure, reminding him again of boyhood days when
fun and frolic abounded in this old Loyalist home, and
especially the memorable Christmas eve, when Helen, a
little child, sat upon his lap.
Quinte was not there. He remained in bed in his
cabin, talking at times in imagination to his dad and
mam, or his master in Virginia. Then his mind would
revert to the old graveyard, and he would ask Squire
and Mrs. Clinton who would dig the Loyalists' graves
after he was gone.
They talked to him as though he were as well as
usual. Then Squire Clinton, in order to cheer him up,
said:
" You must get around and be all right in a couple
of days, Quinte, for nearly all the Loyalist descendants
will be here at the great celebration, of which you know
I have had the honor of being appointed president.
Everybody will want to see Quinte Brown, you know,
the only original U. E. Loyalist left the boy who
kicked up his heels on this shore one hundred years ago."
" Pse glad, Mas'r, yo' am de pres'dent ob de Cen-
ten'al, fo' praps you'll tell dem bout Quinte an' Mas'r
Percival an' Mas'r James an' all de rest ob de family. I
specs Pll be dar, Mas'r, if jes' to heah de band play ' God
sabe de Queen,' dat deah good saint on de throne ob ol'
England. I specs to meet her befo' de great white
throne an' dar we'll all sing de song ob Moses an' de
Lamb."
Then Quinte tried to sing, " Der am Angels hov'rin'
348
AN UNEXPECTED CENTENNIAL EPISODE
'round to carry de tidings home," and soon fell off to
sleep. This permitted Squire Clinton and his faithful
wife to leave the log cabin and join their family once
more in the dear home they had been forced for a time
to vacate.
The morning of the Loyalist Centennial the 16th
of June, 1884 ushered in one of the loveliest days of
the whole summer. At an early hour the people were
astir throughout the whole Bay of Quinte district, wind-
ing their way by steamers and carriages to the old
United Empire Loyalist burying ground in Adolphus-
town. As thousands of people assembled, with bands
playing and flags in abundance flying, there was great
animation and cheer after cheer rent the air. Tents
and booths and a large grand-stand were erected in the
vicinity of the memorable Loyalist landing-place, and
the grounds thus assumed the appearance of an important
camp.
The peanut, lemonade and ice cream vendors were
on hand as usual, with liberal supplies for the visitors,
and loudly shouted the merits of their respective wares.
The battalion from Belleville arrived by special steamer,
camped in tents upon the grounds, and their excellent
band discoursed appropriate music throughout the cele-
bration.
When all was in readiness, Squire Clinton, the presi-
dent of the Centennial committee, ascended the plat-
form, followed by a large number of representative
Loyalists from all parts of the province. After giving
the large throng a cordial welcome, the chairman pro-
ceeded to outline the aims and objects of the celebration,
briefly sketching the history of the Loyalist movement
I since the Revolutionary War.
The Lieutenant-Governor of the province, a member
349
THE OLD LOYALIST
of a prominent Loyalist family, made an excellent ad-
dress, going into the more minute details of all the
experiences of the grand men and women who had sacri-
ficed all they held most dear on earth in order that they
might remain faithful and loyal to the honored flag
which now floated above their graves. He followed
their descendants down the century, and referred to
many of the distinguished sons of the old Loyalist
pioneers.
The laying of the corner-stone of the monument to
be subsequently erected in honor of the U. E. Loyalists
was performed with Masonic honors, the battalion firing
a Royal Salute and the band playing " God save the
Queen."
The corner-stone of an Anglican church in the
vicinity was also laid during the celebration.
After partaking of the refreshments liberally pro-
vided by the ladies in various large tents, the chairman
again called the immense concourse of people to order,
and announced that the Premier of the Dominion, who
was present, had expressed a desire at this time to
briefly address the people on a matter which had not
been announced on the programme, but which, he under-
stood, referred to some particular family in the locality.
This caused a great flutter of excitement, for it was not
known that the Prime Minister was present, except by
a few intimate friends.
Sir John, looking somewhat aged and care-worn,
came briskly forward and was accompanied to the plat-
form by Rev. Charles Picton. The latter returned at
once to a tent erected near the platform, while the
Premier, dressed in his ordinary light tweed suit,
ascended the steps and with his familiar, genial smile and
easy, graceful manner, stood before thousands of his fel-
35
AN UNEXPECTED CENTENNIAL EPISODE
low-citizens and many warm, personal friends. After
three hearty cheers, order was again restored, and then
the Premier began to speak :
" Ladies and Gentlemen, I was glad to be honored
with an official request to be present at this celebration,
where honor is being done to the memory of the United
Empire Loyalists of the Bay of Quinte. As I am not
a Loyalist by birth, I did not accept that very kind invi-
tation, believing that it would be more in keeping with
the design and purpose of this Centennial if the public
addresses made on this occasion came from the descend-
ants of those illustrious men. But I hold here in my
hand a private letter from my good friend, the Rev.
Charles Picton, of this place, requesting me, if at all
possible, to be present on this first day of the Centennial
in connection with a matter with which a Loyalist family
represented here to-day particular friends of mine
is deeply concerned.
" I immediately accepted this invitation, and when I
arrived last evening and learned from the reverend gen-
tleman the nature of the matter in question, I found it
to be of such transcendant importance to this Centennial
that I took it upon myself to request that a slight varia-
tion be made in the programme, by allowing me the
opportunity of explaining to you briefly the circum-
stances connected with this matter, which, doubtless, will
be as great a surprise to you as it has been to me.
" As you are doubtless all aware, I was for a time
in my childhood a resident of this old Loyalist settle-
ment, and have known most of the good people here
intimately since those boyhood days. After my father
and mother emigrated from Scotland and settled in
Kingston for a time, they moved to Adolphustown, and
we dwelt for a period in a small frame house on Hay
35i
THE OLD LOYALIST
Bay, near that historic building which stands to remind
us of those God-fearing men whose names you are honor-
ing here to-day. I refer to the original Methodist church
erected in Canada, which you will do well to preserve as
long as possible from the ravages of time, in memory of
your grand old Loyalist forefathers who wrought faith-
fully and well.
" As a bare-footed boy, I tramped up and down the
creeks of this community, spearing pike and suckers
along with many associates of my own age. I attended
your village school, and at one time got my ears severely
boxed by one of the school girls for sending her adrift
in an old oarless boat, not far from the place where I
now stand. George Clinton, whom I am glad to see you
have honored with the chairmanship of your Loyalist
Centennial Committee, was perhaps my most intimate
associate in those happy, youthful days when we attended
school together and sat in the same seat. Since then
our friendship has been unbroken. He always brought
his legal business to our firm in Kingston. As young
men we came to know each other intimately, and as old
men we have not forgotten or broken the friendship of
earlier days."
Briefly, the Premier now reviewed the history of
the Virginia Clinton family, and explained the marvel-
lous manner in which the three branches of the family
had preserved their identity by means of the paintings
of Percival Clinton, handed down from generation to
generation by each of his three children, Margaret, Ed-
ward and James.
Continuing, he said :
" Thus in the good providence of God these three
Clinton families, scattered by the Revolutionary War,
352
AN UNEXPECTED CENTENNIAL EPISODE
are now reunited in the family of Squire Clinton, and
I am pleased to say we are about to witness a still closer
reunion of this remarkable family.
" They recently made a trip to Virginia and found
the graves of Percival Clinton and his wife on the old
plantation. The few handfuls of dust of those bodies
still remaining have been transferred to this locality
in a corner of the graveyard yonder. You may see their
newly-made grave in the Clinton plot with the same
old headstone which did duty for a century in Virginia,
erected to mark their Canadian resting-place for all
future time.
" It was thought probable, from a map made by
George Washington, when a young surveyor, of the
Clinton plantation in Virginia, and from a letter written
by James Clinton after coming to this country, that
Percival Clinton had buried certain treasures in Vir-
ginia. Washington's map has been preserved in a most
miraculous way in a walnut box in the custody of Quinte
Brown.
"While in Virginia the Clintons, through the en-
gineering skill of Walter Earle, were enabled to locate
a masonry vault beneath the former residence of Per-
cival Clinton, wherein vast treasures of gold coin were
discovered. A ship was engaged to transfer this great
fortune to this country, and I am happy to inform you
that the immense treasures of Percival Clinton are at
this moment safe and secure in the possession of Squire
Clinton and his family.
" These millions of money have apparently been pre-
served through the century for some divine purpose.
This family, I understand, intend using a considerable
part of their great wealth in the uplifting of their fellow-
men throughout the limits of our wide Dominion, by
2 3 353
THE OLD LOYALIST
well-devised, philanthropic plans, which I would be glad
to see many of our wealthy citizens imitate here and
elsewhere.
" To this end the Rev. Charles Picton has already
been employed by the Clintons to become a missionary
at large to travel throughout this country and investi-
gate the causes of extreme poverty, wretchedness and
suffering. Plans are to be inaugurated by this good man
for helping the unfortunate to help themselves, and for
the carrying of the gospel of Christ into the homes of
all our people. He is commissioned to draw upon the
Clinton treasures freely for the support of his various
charitable projects, and no doubt great good will be
accomplished. I am sure, therefore, you will all rejoice
with me in knowing that great prosperity has come to
the Clinton family at the very moment when they were
about to lose the old homestead, which has been in the
possession of their family for a full century."
There was a loud clapping of hands at this point,
with shouts of approval, and then the Premier resumed :
" Let me also say a few words in regard to my good
old friend, Quinte Brown. This day, as you know,
marks the centenary of his advent to this part of the
country. He, too, was born in the state of Virginia.
Throughout that long century he has been a faithful
servant to every generation of the Clinton family, and
a most estimable citizen of this community. He has
carefully guarded yonder graveyard and has assisted in
the grave-digging and burial of every Loyalist sleeping
beneath the ground in that sacred spot. Quinte Brown,
though of a different color and race, has been a devoted
friend, a loyal citizen, and a true Christian gentleman,
and it seems to me while firing a royal salute over the
graves of those Loyalists who are gone, we should fire
354
AN UNEXPECTED CENTENNIAL EPISODE
another in honor of this faithful servant who, having
laid so many others away to rest for the past century,
is now himself awaiting- the call of his Master. Doubt-
less he, too, will soon be gathered home to his fathers."
The battalion here fired a salute, the band played the
National Anthem, and the welkin rang with cheers.
Then the Premier continued:
" Some weeks ago Curtis Clinton received the
nomination of our party, as many of you are aware, for
this constituency. To-day I have learned that the op-
position have decided to put no candidate in the field
against him, and, therefore, he may be regarded as your
future member for this riding.
" I shall esteem it a great privilege and honor, there-
fore, to welcome the grandson of my old-time friend,
George Clinton, to our Legislative halls at Ottawa,
where, I trust, he will long do honor to himself and the
grand old constituency he represents.
" Walter Earle has consented to accept my invita-
tion to come to Ottawa, where we are in need of a good
man as Assistant Chief Engineer of Government Rail-
ways, where he will find, I trust,. a wider scope for his
marked ability.
" Now, ladies and gentlemen, I am not aware of
any citizen of this country more deserving of recogni-
tion, not only by our own country, but Great Britain
as well, than our good friend, Squire Clinton; and it
shall be my pleasure in the near future to have his name
submitted to Her Gracious Majesty, the Queen, as a
subject worthy of knighthood. I trust, therefore, that
ere long we shall have the pleasure of calling the one
who presides over this meeting to-day by another name;
and in order that he may be getting accustomed to it
355
THE OLD LOYALIST
in the meantime, I shall take the liberty of giving him
his new title to-day Sir George Clinton."
There was a thunder of applause at this announce-
ment, followed by rousing cheers and rapturous music
by the band playing the familiar tune, " He's a jolly
good fellow, which nobody can deny," which was sung
lustily by the crowd.
The Premier concluded as follows : " I thank you,
friends, for your patient hearing, and now before taking
my seat I shall ask the Clinton family to come forward
to the platform in order that the Rev. Charles Picton
may perform a brief ceremony, which, I am confident,
from my fair knowledge of human nature, shall merit
your approval and applause."
At that moment the delightful strains of Mendels-
sohn's Wedding March were wafted through the great
and expectant throng, thrilling the hearts of the people
with joyous exultation and manifest gladness.
Squire Clinton left the chair and platform and walked
over to the tent. In a few moments the tent door
opened and the Rev. Charles Picton emerged, followed
by the Squire and Gertrude Westwood arm in arm, Mrs.
Clinton and Helen, arm in arm, while Quinte Brown,
supported on either side by Curtis and Walter, brought
up the rear. They advanced to the platform, and ascend-
ing the steps, took a position in the centre thereof indi-
cated by the minister. It was observed that Quinte
Brown was very feeble, and when left to himself leaned
upon a chair, as though not able to stand alone.
Helen and Gertrude looked charming in very becom-
ing travelling suits, and despite the awkwardness of
appearing before so vast a concourse, chatted and smiled
and seemed supremely happy.
At a signal the band ceased playing, and the Rev.
356
AN UNEXPECTED CENTENNIAL EPISODE
Charles Picton proceeded with the marriage ceremony
in a clear, strong voice, that did not in the least betray
the aching of his own heart, which made Gertrude West-
wood the wife of Curtis Clinton, and Helen Clinton the
wife of Walter Earle.
Just as the minister was in the act of pronouncing
the benediction, Quinte Brown bent forward, and with
drooping head, in a listening attitude, exclaimed in a
low, though distinct voice, while a smile overspread his
countenance :
" I'se comm', I'se comin 5 , fo' my head am bendin' low,
I heah dem angel voices callin' ol' Quinte "
He ceased in a low. broken sound, and then with both
hands extended, the old man tottered and fell forward.
The old Loyalist stood near, and quickly grasping
Quinte in his arms, broke the fall and gently laid him
down, He put his coat underneath his faithful old ser-
vant's head and fanned his wrinkled, placid face. But
it was of no avail, for Quinte's spirit had taken its
flight with the angel band that had been hovering over
the spot for a full century.
357
CHAPTER XXVII.
THE OLD LOYALIST AT REST.
The celebration at the U. E. Loyalist landing-place
on the Bay of Quinte continued for several days. Many
excellent addresses were made by prominent descendants
of the old stock, who had carefully gleaned a great
amount of interesting information concerning the noble
character and varied experiences of their forefathers.
Before its close the remains of Quinte Brown were
laid away to rest with solemn ceremony, in a corner of
the large Clinton family plot, in a grave he had dug for
himself many years before, and covered over with boards
and turf.
After the two newly-married couples returned from
a prolonged and happy honeymoon, the buried gold coin
was removed from its iron receptacle in the cemetery
and deposited in the Bank of Montreal. The two farms
were paid for in full, and the titles thereto passed over
into the hands of the Clinton family, to their great joy
and delight.
Mrs. Sullivan was requested to return from her
boarding house in Kingston, whither she had gone to be
near her son Horace.
" You may return to your former home, Mrs. Sulli-
van," said Curtis, very kindly, to the sad mother, " and
rest assured you will not be disturbed again during the
remainder of your life. When Horace recovers suffi-
ciently, bring him to your home and care for him, and
358
THE OLD LOYALIST AT REST
tell him the past is all forgotten and we are his friends.
I shall always keep enough money deposited in the bank
to your credit to meet all your necessary expenses from
year to year. I trust you will be happy."
Mrs. Sullivan, with tears of gratitude in her eyes,
could not speak a word; but she took Curtis's hand in
both of hers and pressed it and kissed it with marked
tokens of gratitude in her eyes, then turned and walked
away to take possession of the comfortable home in
which she was to spend the balance of her days.
Walter and Helen soon removed to Ottawa, where
he began his engineering duties in the Government ser-
vice, and where as the years advanced he became a useful,
capable civil servant, devoted to his work. A baby boy
came to their home, and he was named " George," in
honor of his great-grandfather.
Their domestic life was very happy. Long vacations
each year were spent by Helen and her son on the old
Loyalist homestead with her friends. Occasionally
Walter would join them, when they would all have lively
times together in various forms of amusement.
Curtis and Gertrude lived very happily on the farm,
which was now brought to a perfect state of cultivation,
and was plentifully stocked with animals of the best
breeds that could be imported. A little girl was born to
grace their home and was called " Mary."
When attending Parliament, Curtis usually took his
wife and child with him to Ottawa, where they lived
with the Earles, in a fashionable quarter of the city.
Curtis developed into an excellent speaker and keen
debater, under the gentle, but masterful, hand of the
Premier. He spoke only at rare intervals, but whenever
Clinton addressed the House there was close attention
manifested from the well-filled seats on both sides of Mr.
Speaker. 359
THE OLD LOYALIST
Clinton became an ardent advocate of the prohibition
of the liquor traffic, a cause none too popular in those
days. He was most vehement in his denunciation of the
principle of licensing establishments for destroying
human beings. He claimed, with strong, convincing
arguments, that the license system had utterly failed in
Canada, as it had elsewhere throughout the world. He
stood for the absolute prohibition of the manufacture
and sale of spirituous liquors, except for medicinal and
sacramental purposes. He maintained that the powerful
influence exerted by the brewers, distillers, and wholesale
and retail dealers in alcoholic liquors was becoming the
greatest menace to the well-being of the Government and
people of Canada, threatening to corrupt and debauch
the whole body politic if the sober-minded people of the
country did not immediately adopt strenuous measures to
resist and counteract that influence by making the liquor
traffic illegal.
There was but a mere handful of out-and-out Prohi-
bitionists in Parliament when Clinton entered, but in the
course of a few years several other lukewarm members
from the various provinces became more pronounced in
their views, and together they exerted a power in the
House and country that had to be reckoned with by both
of the great political parties in the years that followed.
The old log cabin had been unoccupied since Quinte's
death, until some fishermen attending their nets nearby,
finding the door-string on the outside, as it had been for
over a century, made it their temporary abode. One day
they carelessly left a large fire, as well as some wood
scattered over the hearth, when departing to attend their
nets. The fire spread to the floor and walls, and soon the
building became a mass of flames. The venerable land-
mark was utterly consumed, and so there passed out of
360
THE OLD LOYALIST AT REST
existence the first and last of the original log cabins
erected by the Loyalists on the shores of the Bay of
Quinte.
Rev. Charles Picton's mission, starting in the back-
woods of Canada, where he had previously labored,
gradually widened in its sphere, until it became publicly
recognized by both church and state as a mighty pov/er
for good from the Atlantic to the Pacific.
The interest on the well-invested Clinton treasures
amounted to a very large sum every year, and the greater
part of these earnings were placed in the mission
fund of the family, the various members of which
constituted the board, of which Rev. Charles Picton was
chairman. The object sought in the administration of
this fund was the uplifting of the poor and unfortunate,
first physically, then morally and spiritually, similar in
many respects to the grand work being achieved through-
out the world to-day by the Salvation Army, under the
able leadership of a dauntless old General.
Rev. Charles Picton employed a number of assistants
for various fields, who as colporteurs carried cheap edi-
tions of the Bible, which were freely distributed wher-
ever required among the poor, also a purse of money to
render aid wherever, like the good Samaritan, he found
a case of actual suffering. These colporteurs were usually
college students, who, becoming familiar with the work
and discovering the wonderfully large field of usefulness
lying before them, as a rule took up the work with great
zeal and made it their chief business for life.
Many a poor child, many a broken-hearted mother,
many an unfortunate man blessed the good missionary
as he passed through the lonely rural district, or the con-
gested city quarters, dispensing charity or giving a word
361
THE OLD LOYALIST
of cheer, or offering a brief prayer. These good men
reported weekly to the chairman a full account of their
operations and the number of visits made. These reports
were again compiled by the chairman and submitted to
the board of the mission fund.
The Clinton family thus kept thoroughly in touch
with the work in the field and soon began to realize that
the family treasures were destined to accomplish a mighty
work in the future in the uplifting of their fellow-men.
They were glad to feel they were using most of their
income in dispensing blessings to others, and they
resolved that the mission fund should be increased from
time to time, as the work developed and the demands
enlarged.
A substantial monument was afterwards erected on
the broad base, of which the corner-stone was laid at the
Centennial celebration. It was a tall brown granite shaft,
and on the side facing the bay were inscribed the words :
" In memory of the U. E. Loyalists who, through loy-
alty to British institutions, left the U. S., and landed on
these shores on the 16th of June, 1784."
The old Loyalist was duly knighted, as the Premier
had declared, and everyone began calling him Sir
George, but he preferred the simple name Squire Clinton,
to which he had always been accustomed. He took a
lively interest in everything going on at the farm, but in
no way interfered with Curtis's management, which
proved more and more successful.
He laid his beloved partner in joy and sorrow away
to rest in the maple-encircled cemetery in the course of a
few years. In extreme loneliness, he now fell back upon
the company and friendship of his little great-grand-
child, Mary, and her cousin George, whenever the latter
came to visit him. He loved to take each of these little
362
THE OLD LOYALIST AT REST
ones by the hand on a summer afternoon and wander
with them over the farm, explaining many interesting
sights and listening to their merry prattle. He would
lead them to the bay shore, where they would wade in
the water with bared feet, or, sitting down on the bank,
would make castles of sand. Then they would walk
slowly up to the old cemetery, where he would show
them their great-grandmother's grave, and would deeply
interest them with little stories of her life and her beauti-
ful character. The children were always much interested
in the grave of Quinte Brown, the old black man, of
whom they had heard many, many tales from their fond
mothers.
As the years passed away, Sir George, growing old
and somewhat feeble, seldom left the old Loyalist settle-
ment, in which he had been born and reared. Occasion-
ally he visited Helen and Walter, in Ottawa. At such
times he invariably called upon the Premier at his office
in the House of Commons, where he always received a
hearty greeting and had a friendly chat, no matter how
heavily the cares of state rested upon the aged Premier's
shoulders. His presence in the home of Curtis and Ger-
trude always brought sunshine. It was the delight, too,
of his neighbors to have him call as he drove to and fro
throughout the settlement, and tarry for a cup of tea,
when they would listen to his kindly voice as he recounted
many stories of bygone days.
His friends observed that his mind was now becoming
more and more centred upon the life beyond the grave.
He read and studied his Bible more earnestly than ever
before, and never failed to be in his place of worship on
the Sabbath day. The pastors, who came and went in
accordance with the itinerant regulations of his church,
always received his loyal support and co-operation.
3 6 3
THE OLD LOYALIST
Their frequent visits to the Clinton home, of which Ger-
trude was the beautiful, genial mistress, continued to be
the custom, as it ever had been in the past, and they
were always given a hearty welcome.
An occasional visit from his former pastor, Rev.
Charles Picton, always brought Sir George much com-
fort. The missionary would always halt for a day or
two on his hurried trips back and forth over a vast
extent of country, where he was constantly advising and
directing his numerous assistants in his great mission
field; and at the same time personally proclaiming and
exhorting whenever and wherever an opportunity pre-
sented itself. At such times Sir George would earnestly
discuss plans with the missionary for the expansion of
the work, and the utilizing of the money set apart for
the purpose to the very best advantage. Then the old
Loyalist would turn the conversation toward the future
world. He would tell of all his bright anticipations
when, with a great heavenly multitude, he would walk
the golden streets of the New Jerusalem, in the presence
of his adorable Saviour. There was no doubt, no fear;
but a calm, firm belief that immediately he quit this
world the Master, whom he had feebly endeavored to
serve, would say to him, as he had said to others who had
proven true to their trust : " Well done, good and faith-
ful servant; thou hast been faithful over a few things,
will make thee ruler over many things; enter thou intc
the joy of thy Lord."
One day the old Loyalist came in from the post with
his daily paper in his hand, his face as pale as ashes, and
his step somewhat unsteady. When questioned as to the
cause of his feebleness, Sir George held up his paper and
pointed to the startling large headlines : " A mighty man
has fallen ! Canada to-day mourns the loss of her great-
3 6 4
THE OLD LOYALIST AT REST
est son! A great political chieftain has gone! Our be-
loved Premier is dead!"
Then, laying the paper down on the table and leaning
upon the latter, Sir George said, with evident emotion:
" True, children, alas ! 'tis true. Our great leader is gone,
and Canada to-day is mourning over his departure. We
cannot realize yet what a loss we have sustained, but
future generations will look back and see his life and
character in their true perspective. By his wise states-
manship and constant devotion to duty, a great nation
has been welded together out of a few scattered, dis-
jointed provinces. Not only has he done his best for our
country at home, but at Washington and London he has
stood up boldly for our best interests, and I am glad to
know that our good Queen has honored him on more
than one occasion. He has stood for integrity and purity,
in private as well as in public life. He dies to-day a poor
man greatly to his credit as he would not permit him-
self to become soiled with dishonest gain, like many men
in public life have done in the past in this and other
countries.
" He has laid a foundation, broad and deep, upon
which there shall now assuredly be built one of the most
prosperous and, let us trust, most upright nations in this
great, wide world. The Premier had his faults who of
us have not ? but, notwithstanding these and all the evil
influences that surrounded him, he had a faith in God
which, I verily believe from our conversations from time
to time, grew stronger and stronger toward the close of
his life, and which I trust gave him the victory when he
to-day, after a severe illness, forever laid down the
weapons of his warfare. I shall expect to meet him soon,
for I, too, shall be gathered home to my fathers in the
not distant future."
365
THE OLD LOYALIST
A few days later the old Loyalist and Curtis took the
steamer for Kingston, to attend the funeral of the late
Premier. The remains were brought from Ottawa, and
lay in state in the Kingston City Hall the Parliament
building of former years.
Sir George wept as he stood beside the bier and
looked for the last time into the face of his former Chief-
tain and lifelong personal friend. They followed the great
funeral cortege to the outskirts of the city, where they
saw the coffin lowered into a grave in the quiet little
Cataraqui Cemetery. They heard the final words of the
officiating clergyman as he concluded the burial service.
While standing there, with bared heads, amid a vast
concourse of people awaiting the filling up of the grave,
the old Loyalist listened to the sighing of the wind in
the tops of some tall pine trees near by. He looked and
listened, looked and listened again, and concluded he
heard from the tree-tops a low, distinct mournful call to
himself from the invisible world. He could not divest
his mind of that weird thought, but spoke of it again and
again after they had turned away from the cemetery.
The Earles, who had come up from Ottawa to attend
the funeral, accompanied the Clintons to their old home
that afternoon, which they reached in the early twilight.
The reunited family spent a happy evening together.
Listening to the chatter of the children, the old Loyalist
was again reminded of the time when the four parents of
the little ones were children themselves, and made the
old house ring with their merry laughter. When ready
to retire for the night, their feeble grandfather said :
" My dear children, I firmly believe I heard God's
voice to-day in the whispering of the wind in yonder pine
trees, near our late Premier's grave, bidding me come to
join our friends and all the saints who have gone before,
366
THE OLD LOYALIST AT REST
in that city whose builder and maker is God. Remember,
I am ready to answer the summons, even though it be
this night. I shall expect you all to meet me in the better
world above after the call comes to each of you, and you
feel, as I do, that your life-work is over. Good-bye and
God bless you."
Each member of the family shook hands with Sir
George, and expressed a hope that he would be feeling
better in the morning, after a good night's rest.
As he did not appear at the usual hour next day, they
looked into his chamber. He lay with closed eyes and a
peaceful smile upon his face. Drawing nearer, they dis-
covered that his spirit had departed during the quiet
hours of the night.
Three days later the remains were deposited in the
Clinton family plot, beside the dust of his worthy fore-
fathers.
367
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PS Davis, Allan Ross
3457 The old loyalist
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