"But other men have helpmates in their wives." This was the spark which ignited the hidden fires. Her black eyes blazed, and her breast heaved. She upbraided him until he withdrew and, mounting his horse, rode away. At night he returned to find his wife silent and morose, and for nine days they scarcely spoke. This life was trying to John. After a few days she grew more amiable and expressed sympathy with her husband in his financial straits. "I am going to economize," she declared. "I will take no heed what I shall eat, nor what I shall drink, nor wherewithal I shall be clothed." Again for the thousandth time he took heart. After all, Dorothe might become a helpmate. She was so beautiful and so cheerful in her pleasanter moods that he thought her a treasure. When he took his baby on his knee and felt her soft, warm cheek against his own, he realized that life might be endurable even in adversity. One evening, as they talked over his financial troubles, he said: "Our family has a fortune in Florida." At the name of fortune, Mrs. Stevens' head became erect, and she was all attention like a war-horse at the blast of a trumpet. "If you have a fortune there, why don't you go and get it?" she asked. "We would, I trow, did we know we could have it for the going," he made answer. "And wherefore can you not?" "St. Augustine is under the Spanish rule, and we know not that they will permit an Englishman even to inherit property there. My grandfather was a Spaniard and died possessed of valuable property." "Can you not get it? Can you not get it?" she asked. "I do not know." "Try." "We have thought to try it." His brother was sent to Florida, but failed, though assured by the lawyers that they might in time recover it. There is no business so unprofitable as waiting for dead men's money. Fortune flies at pursuit and smiles on the indifferent. The prospects of John Stevens were certainly at a low ebb, and he found his affairs daily growing worse. Large consignments of tobacco sent to England remained unpaid for, and he stood in danger of losing all. He thought of making a voyage to London for the purpose of looking after his accounts. John Stevens had never been away from his family, save in the short campaign on the Severn, and he dreaded to leave home. He loved his children and, despite her faults, he loved his wife. As he held his baby in his arms and listened to her gentle crowing and heard the merry prattle of his boy at play, he asked himself if he should ever see those children again, were he to go away. John had three friends in whom he reposed great confidence. They were Drummond, Lawerence, and Cheeseman. One evening he met them at the home of Drummond and, relating his condition, asked: "Knowing all as you do, what do you advise?" "By all means, go to London," answered Drummond. "Ought I to leave my wife and children?" "Wherefore not?" "If I perish on the voyage, they will be wholly unprovided for."