vellers, and made none of his usual protests of incapacity. The
servants filed off solemnly with the baggage, and the four gentlemen
set themselves down beside me in the loggia and ordered each a modest
flask of wine.

At first I took them for our countrymen, but as I watched them the
conviction vanished. All four were tall and lean beyond the average of
mankind. They wore suits of black, with antique starched frills to
their shirts; their hair was their own and unpowdered. Massive buckles
of an ancient pattern adorned their square-toed shoes, and the canes
they carried were like the yards of a small vessel. They were four
merchants, I had guessed, of Scotland, maybe, or of Newcastle, but
their voices were not Scotch, and their air had no touch of commerce.
Take the heavy-browed preoccupation of a Secretary of State, add the
dignity of a bishop, the sunburn of a fox-hunter, and something of the
disciplined erectness of a soldier, and you may perceive the manner of
these four gentlemen. By the side of them my assurance vanished.
Compared with their Olympian serenity my Person seemed fussy and
servile. Even so, I mused, must Mr. Franklin have looked when baited
in Parliament by the Tory pack. The reflection gave me the cue.
Presently I caught from their conversation the word "Washington," and
the truth flashed upon me. I was in the presence of four of Mr.
Franklin's countrymen. Having never seen an American in the flesh, I
rejoiced at the chance of enlarging my acquaintance.

They brought me into the circle by a polite question as to the length
of road to Verona. Soon introductions followed. My name intrigued
them, and they were eager to learn of my kinship to Uncle Charles. The
eldest of the four, it appeared, was Mr. Galloway out of Maryland.
Then came two brothers, Sylvester by name, of Pennsylvania, and last
Mr. Fish, a lawyer of New York. All four had campaigned in the late
war, and all four were members of the Convention, or whatever they call
their rough-and-ready parliament. They were modest in their behaviour,
much disinclined to speak of their past, as great men might be whose
reputation was world-wide. Somehow the names stuck in my memory. I
was certain that I had heard them linked with some stalwart fight or
some moving civil deed or some defiant manifesto. The making of
history was in their steadfast eye and the grave lines of the mouth.
Our friendship flourished mightily in a brief hour,