histories (and soon enough ours) by heart. They betted away
the week at billiards or whist or picquet or loo, and sometimes measured
swords for diversion, tho' this pastime the bailiff was greatly set
against; as calculated to deprive him of a lodger.

Although we had no money for gaming, and little for wine or tobacco, the
captain and I were received very heartily into the fraternity. After one
afternoon of despondency we both voted it the worst of bad policy to
remain aloof and nurse our misfortune, and spent our first evening in
making acquaintances over a deal of very thin "debtor's claret."
I tossed long that night on the hard cot, listening to the scurrying rats
among the roof-timbers. They ran like the thoughts in my brain. And
before I slept I prayed again and again that God would put it in my power
to reward him whom charity for a friendless foundling had brought to a
debtor's prison.

Not so much as a single complaint or reproach had passed his lips!

CHAPTER XXV

THE RESCUE

Perchance, my dears, if John Paul and I had not been cast by accident in
a debtor's prison, this great man might never have bestowed upon our
country those glorious services which contributed so largely to its
liberty. And I might never have comprehended that the American
Revolution was brought on and fought by a headstrong king, backed by
unscrupulous followers who held wealth above patriotism. It is often
difficult to lay finger upon the causes which change the drift of a man's
opinions, and so I never wholly knew why John Paul abandoned his
deep-rooted purpose to obtain advancement in London by grace of the
accomplishments he had laboured so hard to attain. But I believe the
beginning was at the meeting at Windsor with the slim and cynical
gentleman who had treated him to something between patronage and
contempt. Then my experience with Mr. Manners had so embedded itself in
his mind that he could never speak of it but with impatience and disgust.
And, lastly, the bailiff's hotel contained many born gentlemen who had
been left here to rot out the rest of their dreary lives by friends who
were still in power and opulence. More than once when I climbed to our
garret I found the captain seated on the three-legged chair, with his
head between his hands, sunk in reflection.

"You were right, Richard," said he; "your great world is a hard world for
those in the shadow of it. I see now that it must not be entered from
below, but f