“It was not that, father. Some men might have hesitated even as to the duty. Mr. Andre did not help him, and his debt to us was small. Had I been taken I should have swung as a spy on the gallows in Centre Square.” “And yet,” said my father, with emphatic slowness, “he would have done his duty as he saw it.” “And profited by it also,” said I, savagely. “There is neither charity nor yet common sense in thy words, Hugh. If thou art to abide here, see that thy ways conform to the sobriety and decency of Friends. I will have no cards nor hard drinking.” “But good heavens! father, when have I ever done these things here, or indeed anywhere, for years?” His fingers were again playing on the arms of Mr. Penn’s great chair, and I made haste to put an end to this bewildering talk. “I will try,” I said, “to live in such a way as shall not offend. Lucy is in the stable, and I will take my old room. My Aunt Gainor is to be in town to-morrow.” “I shall be pleased to see her.” “And how is the business, father?” I said. “There are no ships at sea, I hope. The privateers are busy, and if any goods be found that may have been for use of the king’s people, we might have to regret a loss.” “_I_ might,” he returned sharply. “I am still able to conduct my own ventures.” “Of course, sir,” I said hastily, wondering where I could find any subject which was free from power to annoy him. Then I rose, saying, “There is an early drill. I shall have to be on hand to receive General Arnold. I shall not be back to breakfast. Good-night.” “Farewell,” he said. And I went upstairs with more food for thought than was to my liking. I had hoped for a brief season of rest and peace, and here was whatever small place I held in my father’s heart filled by my cousin. When, not long after, for mere comfort, I had occasion to speak to the great Dr. Rush of my father, he said that when the brain became enfeebled men were apt to assign to one man acts done by another, and that this did explain the latter part of my father’s talk about cards and drinking. Also he said that with defect of memory came more or less incapacity to reason, since for that a man must be able to assemble past events and review them in his memory. Indeed, he added, certain failures of remembrance might even permit a good man to do apparent wrong, which seemed to me less clear. The good doctor helped me much, for I was confused and hurt, seeing no remedy in anything I could do or say. I lit the candles in my old room and looked about me. My cousin had, it appeared, taken up his abode in my own chamber, and this put me out singularly; I could hardly have said why. The room was in the utmost confusion. Only that morning Arthur Wynne had left it. Many of the lazier officers had overslept themselves, as I have said, and came near to being quite left behind. Lord Cosmo Gordon, in fact, made his escape in a skiff just before we entered.