ied an officer-looking
personage, "that it was a deed insulting to his majesty, and
disgraceful to a British subject. If not treason, it is something very
like."

"Bethink you, Colonel McMahon," said the first speaker, "that this is
not England. I trow we left her to but little purpose, if we are to
enjoy no more liberty here than there."

"What kind of a liberty call you that, Capt. Larkham," demanded the
other, "which authorizes Endicott, or any other man, to cut out the
cross from the King's colors? Call you yourselves loyal subjects who
tolerate such an outrage?"

"And by what authority," retorted Larkham, "was the Papistical sign
foisted into the standard of England, except by that of the scarlet
woman, whose robes are red with the blood of the saints?"

"Methinks," said the Colonel, "that the flag which waved at Cressy and
Poitiers deserved a better fate."

"I pray thee to take to heart and perpend," answered Larkham, with
some solemnity, "that I will yield in loyalty to no man, and that the
last drop of blood I have is at the service of my country. In this
matter a distinction is to be taken. It was not as a contemner of the
flag of England, and of the glorious memories connected therewith (he
would deserve my dagger in his heart if it were so,) that Capt.
Endicott cut out the cross, but as one who is zealous against
error--What! is it reasonable to ask us to march to battle with the
sign of Rome flaunting over our heads? Shall we do anything which may
induce the poor savages (whom, as I am told, the emissaries of Rome
are deluding, taking good care to keep out of our reach) to recognize
her errors, and admit her power?"

"Such scruples," said the Colonel, "neither you nor I ever heard at
home. It required a foreign soil to give birth to them," and as he
uttered the word foreign, he threw an emphasis on it which offended
the other.

"I shall entreat of your courtesy," said Larkham, slowly, "to weigh
well the words which it may be your pleasure to apply to any opinions
of mine, I will resent any imputations upon the loyalty of the colony,
or upon mine own."

"Think not to affect me by any threats, sir," answered the Colonel,
standing up, and looking sternly at his opponent. "I say that it was
the act of a rebel, and will avouch my words against you, though the
whole colony were at your back."

The last sentence was spoken in a defiant tone, and some mischief
might have been the consequence, had not Ma