clung tightly and came down without much
inconvenience, though indifferently glad to feel the ground again.

Mr. Marmaduke, as I expected, was in a great temper, and swore he had
not had such a fright for years. He looked for Mr. Carvel to cane me
stoutly: But Ivie laughed heartily, and said: "I wad yell gang far for
anither laddie wi' the spunk, Mr. Manners," and with a sly look at my
grandfather, "Ilka day we hae some sic whigmeleery."

I think Mr. Carvel was not ill pleased with the feat, or with Mr.
Marmaduke's way of taking it. For afterwards I overheard him telling the
story to Colonel Lloyd, and both gentlemen laughing over Mr. Manners's
discomfiture.

CHAPTER III. CAUGHT BY THE TIDE

It is a nigh impossible task on the memory to trace those influences by
which a lad is led to form his life's opinions, and for my part I hold
that such things are bred into the bone, and that events only serve to
strengthen them. In this way only can I account for my bitterness, at
a very early age, against that King whom my seeming environment should
have made me love. For my grandfather was as stanch a royalist as ever
held a cup to majesty's health. And children are most apt before they
can reason for themselves to take the note from those of their elders
who surround them. It is true that many of Mr. Carvel's guests were of
the opposite persuasion from him: Mr. Chase and Mr. Carroll, Mr.
Lloyd and Mr. Bordley, and many others, including our friend Captain
Clapsaddle. And these gentlemen were frequently in argument, but
political discussion is Greek to a lad.

Mr. Carvel, as I have said, was most of his life a member of the
Council, a man from whom both Governor Sharpe and Governor Eden were
glad to take advice because of his temperate judgment and deep knowledge
of the people of the province. At times, when his Council was scattered,
Governor Sharpe would consult Mr. Carvel alone, and often have I known
my grandfather to embark in haste from the Hall in response to a call
from his Excellency.

'Twas in the latter part of August, in the year 1765, made memorable by
the Stamp Act, that I first came in touch with the deep-set feelings of
the times then beginning, and I count from that year the awakening of
the sympathy which determined my career. One sultry day I was wading in
the shallows after crabs, when the Governor's messenger came drifting
in, all impatience at the lack of wind. He ran to the house to seek Mr.
C