Among all these busy ones, Clotilde and Mother Jeanne and the company of servants in the big house did their full share. Stephen, meanwhile, prowled up and down the narrow bounds of the garden and frowned and shook his head over the letters that came to him from Philadelphia, where the Congress was sitting. Such endless arguments, disagreements and downright quarrels were occupying them while the precious days passed! The lesson of acting together seemed a hard one for the Colonies to learn. “If you could but be here!” was the burden of nearly every letter that came, although they who wrote and he who read both knew that such a thing was impossible. The long perilous journey to Philadelphia was utterly out of the question for a man of advancing years and such frail health as Stephen’s. Gladly would he have taken all risks had there been any hope, even in his own mind, that he could reach Pennsylvania with strength enough left to be of any use. Not even he could think so, however. Mother Jeanne, provoked out of her usual respectful silence, observed grimly, when she heard the journey suggested: “Monsieur must believe that a dead man would be a welcome addition to that great assembly.” One journey, however, he did take and Clotilde with him, for which, although he was ill afterwards, neither of them could ever be made to express regret. It was early in July that they travelled up to Cambridge to see the review of troops before the army’s new leader, Colonel George Washington, out of Virginia. After the review was over and Clotilde had gazed her fill at the marching soldiers who were beginning at last, in form and discipline to resemble an army, and at the tall splendid figure that had ridden up and down the lines, she was amazed to see the General turn, come toward them and dismount a few paces off Stephen, leaning on his cane, had stepped forward to render his duty to the Commander-in-Chief, but General Washington was too quick for him, and advanced to take his hand before he could speak. “I came to offer my respects to you, not to receive yours,” said he, “to salute the man who, above all others, has made possible what we see to-day.” “No, no,” exclaimed Stephen, “there is no credit due to a man who has been able to accomplish as little as I.” “It is through your unwearying toil,” insisted the General, “through your preaching of the need of union up and down the highways and byways of America, that this thing has come to pass. To-day an obscure soldier of Virginia takes command of an army where men of his own State, of Pennsylvania and of Maryland are ready to fight side by side with the minute-man of New England. The honour of this achievement, sir, is all yours!”