It's her ship now. All that I have is her's."

Micah Ward looked at his son with a gentle, sad smile on his face. Then
he turned to welcome his visitor.

"So you have come to see me, James Hope. It was good of you. Ah, man,
there's not so many of us left now. Orr, they hanged him; M'Cracken,
they hanged him; Monro, they hanged him; Porter, they hanged him. And
many another, many another. And the rest are gone across the sea. You
and I are left, with one here and there besides--a very small remnant,
a cottage in a vineyard, a lodge in a garden of cucumbers, a besieged
city."

"It's hard to tell," said Hope, "why they did not hang me, too. There
were times when, only for my wife, who would have grieved after me, I
could have found it in my heart to wish they would."

"Father," said Neal, "Hope is coming to America with me."

"Nay, lad, nay. I was born in Ireland, I've lived my life in Ireland,
I'll die in Ireland when my time comes. Maybe before the end I'll find a
chance to strike another blow for her."

"Doubtless," said Micah Ward, "such a blow will be stricken, but not in
our time, James Hope. The fighting spirit is gone from us. The men are
laid low or scattered or broken. The people speak about the 'break.'
They call it well. 'Shall iron break the northern iron and the steel?'
Yea, but iron hath broken us. It hath entered into our souls. And if one
look unto the land, behold darkness and sorrow and the light is darkened
in the heavens thereof."

"But there is another land," said Neal, "where the sun shines, where
neither palaces of kings, nor haughty churches, nor the banners and
cannon smoke of England's soldiers, nor yet the gallows, casting shadows
over the green fields, and overtopping every village, can come between
the people and the good light which the Lord God made for them. That's
the land for you and me."

"For you, Neal," said Micah Ward, "and for the girl you love. But there
is no other land except only this lost land for me and him."

He took Hope's hand and held it. Then, with his other hand, he drew his
son down beside him. Neal knelt on the earthen floor of the cottage. He
felt hands laid upon his head--his father's hands and James Hope's. The
benediction came from both of them, though it was Micah Ward's voice
which spoke the words--

"The Lord hear thee in the day of trouble, Neal;
The name of the God of Jacob defend thee;
Send thee help from the sanctuary,
And st