"D'ye think I don't know that you go about preaching the pernicious doctrines of Patrick Henry and Tom Jefferson, who sports on his seal that sentiment of the demagogue: 'Resistance to tyrants is obedience to God.' Who's the tyrant? Why, our most gracious sovereign! That sort of talk is nothing short of treasonable. The purpose of it is revolution. Oh, I know!" Allison looked at the squire in wonderment, which apparently served to further excite the squire's rage, for he, without waiting for reply, exclaimed: "There soon will come a time when the traitors will have to eat their words. When she was ready, England put her powerful hand on the Indies, and they became hers. She reached out into Canada and, taking France by the coat collar, marched her out. When she feels like it, she'll devote some spare half hour to knocking your heads together." The bent figure of the Scotchman straightened as he looked full in the face of his employer. "You misunderstand me, Squire; I only ask that England shall treat the colonists as she would treat Englishmen, for that is what we are. But for us she wad na' found the task o' running France out of Canada an easy one. I fought for England in that war as surely as I did for the colonies an' I dinna intend to make talk that a self-respecting man should not." "That sounds well, but it means treason; and I for one will not harbour or support traitors," was the angry response. "And I," replied Allison, with dignity, "will permit no man to control my thoughts or call me a traitor to the country for which I fought." Thus the kindly relations between the two men, who in their hearts held warm regard, each for the other, were abruptly ended in mutual ill will. At a window looking out stood Henry Mogridge, with the same disagreeable smile his face had worn the previous evening. How like a chill fog stealing in and shutting down, shrouding a place, is trouble in a household! The squire was uneasy all the morning and then, calling for his horse, mounted him and rode away. Elizabeth eluded her cousin, who, left to amuse himself, heartily wished himself back in London. At the home of the Allisons the trouble was of a very serious nature. David's intention to keep from his wife and family what had occurred that morning, failed. Mrs. Allison knew that something serious had happened and, in her quiet way, finally learned what it was. Rodney, too, learned of it and that night went to his bed feeling that other boys fared better than he. There was his cousin, Dick Tawbee, with horses and dogs and servants to care for them, while he--well, there was no lad he knew who had so much of trouble.