if he confessed--Richard, who never told me a
falsehood in his life! And instead of teaching him, he has gamed with
the lad at the rectory. I dare make oath he has treated your son to a
like instruction. 'Slife, sir, and he had his deserts, he would hang
from a gibbet at the Town Gate."
I raised up in bed to see the effect of this on my uncle. But however
the wind veered, Grafton could steer a course. He got up and began
pacing the room, and his agitation my grandfather took for indignation
such as his own.
"The dog!" he cried fiercely. "The villain! Philip shall leave him
to-morrow. And to think that it was I who moved you to put Richard to
him!"
His distress seemed so real that Mr. Carvel replied:
"No, Grafton, 'twas not your fault. You were deceived as much as I. You
have put your own son to him. But if I live another twelve hours I shall
write his Lordship to remove him. What! You shake your head, sir!"
"It will not do," said my uncle. "Lord Baltimore has had his reasons for
sending such a scoundrel--he knew what he was, you may be sure, father.
His Lordship, sir, is the most abandoned rake in London, and that
unmentionable crime of his but lately in the magazines--"
"Yes, yes," my grandfather interrupted; "I have seen it. But I will
publish him in Annapolis."
My uncle's answer startled me, so like was it to the argument Colonel
Washington himself had used.
"What would you publish, sir? Mr. Allen will reply that what he did
was for the lad's good, and your own. He may swear that since Richard
mentioned politics no more he had taken his conversion for granted."
My grandfather groaned, and did not speak, and I saw the futility of
attempting to bring Grafton to earth for a while yet.
My uncle had recovered his confidence. He had hoped, so he said, that
I had become a good loyalist: perchance as I grew older I would see the
folly of those who called themselves Patriots. But my grandfather cried
out to him not to bother me then. And when at last he was gone, of my
own volition I proposed to promise Mr. Carvel that, while he lived, I
would take no active part in any troubles that might come. He stopped me
with some vehemence.
"I pray God there may be no troubles, lad," he answered; "but you need
give me no promise. I would rather see you in the Whig ranks than a
trimmer, for the Carvels have ever been partisans."
I tried to express my gratitude. But he sighed and wished me good night,
bidding m
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