insulting behavior to an old man and the senior commissioner; but Franklin wisely said not a word, and added his signature to those of his colleagues. The rest of the story is the familiar one of many cases: the agent made repeated demands for the appointment of an accountant to examine his accounts, and Franklin often and very urgently preferred the same request. But the busy Congress would not bother itself ever so little with a matter no longer of any practical moment. Lee's charges remained unrefuted, though not a shadow of justifiable suspicion rested upon Franklin's unfortunate nephew. CHAPTER XI MINISTER TO FRANCE, III TREATY WITH FRANCE: MORE QUARRELS The enthusiastic reception of Franklin in France was responded to by him with a bearing so cheerful and words so encouraging that all the auguries for America seemed for a while of the best. For he was sanguine by nature, by resolution, and by policy; and his way of alluring good fortune was to welcome it in advance. But in fact there were clouds enough floating in the sky, and soon they expanded and obscured the transitory brightness. Communication between the two continents was extremely slow; throughout the war intervals occurred when for long and weary months no more trustworthy news reached Paris than the rumors which got their coloring by filtration through Great Britain. Thus in the dread year of 1777, there traveled across the Channel tales that Washington was conducting the remnant of his forces in a demoralized retreat; that Philadelphia had fallen before Howe; that Burgoyne, with a fine army, was moving to bisect the insurgent colonies from the north. It was very well for Franklin, when told that Howe had taken Philadelphia, to reply: "No, sir: Philadelphia has taken Howe." The jest may have relieved the stress of his mind, as President Lincoln used often to relieve his own over-taxed endurance in the same way. But the undeniable truth was that it looked much as if the affair, to use Franklin's words, would prove to be a "rebellion" and not a "revolution." Still, any misgivings which he may have inwardly felt found no expression, and to no one would he admit the possibility of such an ultimate outcome. Late in the autumn of this dismal year he wrote:-- "You desire to know my opinion of what will probably be the end of this war, and whether our new establishments will not be thereby again reduced to deserts. I do not, for my part, apprehend much danger of so great an evil to us. I think we shall be able, with a little help, to defend ourselves, our possessions, and our liberties so long that England will be ruined by persisting in the wicked attempt to destroy them.... And I sometimes flatter myself that, old as I am, I may possibly live to see my country settled in peace, when Britain shall make no more a formidable figure among the powers of Europe."