le Franklin was waiting, but we do not hear a single word
of impatience or remonstrance from his lips. His philosophy taught him
to be happy under all circumstances. With a smiling face he called
upon Lord Loudoun and dined with him. He endeavored, but in vain, to
obtain a settlement of his claims for supplies furnished to Braddock's
army.

He found much in the society of New York to entertain him. And more
than all, and above all, he was doing everything that could be done
for the accomplishment of his mission. Why, then, should he worry?

"New York," he records, "was growing immensely rich by money brought
into it from all quarters for the pay and subsistence of the troops."

Franklin was remarkably gallant in his intercourse with ladies. He
kept up quite a brisk correspondence with several of the most
brilliant ladies of the day. No man could more prettily pay a
compliment. To his lively and beautiful friend Miss Ray he wrote upon
his departure,

"Present my best compliments to all that love me; I should
have said all that love you, but that would be giving you
too much trouble."

At length Lord Loudoun granted permission for the packet to drop down
to the Lower Bay, where a large fleet of ninety vessels was assembled,
fitted out for an attack upon the French at Louisburg. Franklin and
his friends went on board, as it was announced that the vessel would
certainly sail "to-morrow." For six weeks longer the packet rode there
at anchor. Franklin and his companions had for the third time consumed
all the provisions they had laid in store for the voyage. Still we
hear not a murmur from our imperturbable philosopher.

At length the signal for sailing was given. The whole squadron put to
sea, and the London packet, with all the rest, was swept forward
toward Louisburg. After a voyage of five days, a letter was placed in
the hands of the captain, authorizing him to quit the fleet and steer
for England.

The days and nights of a long voyage came and went, when the packet at
midnight in a gale of wind, and enveloped in fogs, was approaching
Falmouth. A light-house, upon some rocks, had not been visible.
Suddenly the lifting of the fog revealed the light-house and the
craggy shore, over which the surf was fearfully breaking, at the
distance of but a few rods. A captain of the Royal Navy, who chanced
to be near the helmsman, sprang to the helm, called upon the sailors
instantly to wear ship, and thus, at