"Twice," replied Parmalee. "Once when the Dutch fleet entered the Thames with a broom at the masthead to show that they were going to sweep the British from the seas. They beat it again when Nelson broke the sea power of Napoleon at Trafalgar. "Here's what an English writer supposes Drake to have said when he was dying: 'Take my drum to England, hang it by the shore, Strike it when your powder's running low; If the Dons sight Devon, I'll quit the port of heaven And drum them up the Channel, as we drummed them long ago.'" "How stirring that is!" cried Ruth, clapping her hands. "Yes," admitted Drew, a little dryly. "They must have forgotten to beat it though at the time of the American Revolution." It was a discordant note and all felt it. "Oh, how horrid of you!" exclaimed Ruth. "You take all the romance out of the story." "I'm sorry," said Drew, instantly penitent. "I don't believe you are a bit," declared Ruth. "And Mr. Parmalee told that story so beautifully," she added, with a wicked little desire to punish Drew. "Cross my heart and hope to die," protested Drew, to appease his divinity. "Put any penance on me you like. I'll sit in sackcloth and put ashes on my head if you say so, and you'll never hear a whimper." "He seems to be suffering horribly," said Parmalee, a bit sarcastically, "and you know, Miss Ruth, that cruel and unusual punishments are forbidden by the Constitution. I think you'd better forgive him." Ruth laughed and the tension was broken. But there was still a little feeling of restraint, and after a few minutes Parmalee excused himself and strolled away. Ruth kept on stitching busily, her face bent studiously over her work. Drew looked at her miserably, bitterly regretting the momentary impulse to which he had yielded. He knew in his heart that he had been jealous of the impression that Parmalee, by his easy and graceful narration, had seemed to be making on Ruth, and he hated himself for it. "Ruth," he said softly. She seemed not to have heard him. "Ruth," he repeated. "Yes?" she answered, but without looking up. CHAPTER XVI GATHERING CLOUDS "Ruth," Drew pleaded. "Look at me." She dropped her work then and met his eyes. "You're angry with me, aren't you?" he asked. "No; I'm not angry," she replied slowly. "But you're vexed?" he suggested. "I should say rather that I am sorry," she answered. "Everything has been so pleasant between us all up to now, and I hoped it was going to remain so." "It was that impulsive tongue of mine," he said. "The words slipped out before I thought." "What you said was nothing," she replied. "But the tone in which you spoke was unpleasant. It seemed as though you were trying to put a damper on things. It came like a dash of cold water, and I'm sure that Mr. Parmalee felt chilled by it." "You seem very much interested in Mr. Parmalee's feelings," he said, with a return of jealousy at the mention of the other's name.