During this time the whole affair had been kept a profound secret from all but the faithful few surrounding the inventor. And now, if ever, the time was drawing near wherein the labor and outlay must either repay laborer and lender, or give to both great trouble and distress. I cannot tell you with what trepidation the young man walked into the War Office at Lebanon, with a very small Turtle under his arm. You will please remember the situation of the colonists at that moment. On the land they feared not to contend with Englishmen. Love of liberty in the Provincials was strong enough, when united with a trusty musket and a fair supply of powder, to encounter red-coated regulars of the British army; but on the ocean, and in every bay, harbor and river, they were powerless. The enemy's ships had kept Boston in siege for nearly two years, the Americans having no opposing force to contend with them. Could this little Turtle, which David Bushnell carried under his arm, do the work he wished it to, why, every ship of the line could be blown into the air! The inventor had faith in his invention, but he feared, when he looked into the faces of the grave Governor and his Council of War, that he could _never_ impart his own belief to them. I cannot tell you with what trust of heart and faith of soul Mrs. Bushnell kept the February day in the house by the bridge at Pochaug. Even the strong-minded, sturdy-nerved Mr. Bushnell looked often up the road by which David and Ezra would approach from Lebanon, with a keen interest in his eyes; but he would not let any word escape him, until darkness had fallen and they were not come. "He said he would be here at eight, at the very latest," said the mother at length, and she went to the fire and placed before the burning coals two chickens to broil. "I'm afraid David won't have much appetite, unless his model _should_ be approved, and money is too precious to spend on _experiments_," said Mr. Bushnell, as she returned to his side. "Do you mean to tell me you _doubt_?" "Of course I doubt. Jonathan Trumbull is a man not at all likely to give his consent to anything that does not commend itself to common sense." Mr. Bushnell was saved the pain of saying his thought, that he was afraid, if David's plan was a good one, _somebody_ would have thought of it long ago, for vigorous knuckles were at work upon the winter-door. As soon as it was opened the genial form of good Dr. Gale stood revealed. "Are the boys back yet?" he asked, stepping within. "No, but we expect them every minute," said Mr. Bushnell. "Well, friends, I had a patient within three miles of you to visit, and I thought I'd come on and hear the news." Ere he was fully made welcome to hearth and home, in walked David, with the little Turtle under his arm. Without ado he went up to his mother and said: