Presently this cheerful captain sent a ship’s boy to command the presence of Mr. Wallingford, and Mr. Wallingford came promptly in answer to the summons. There was so evident a beginning of some high official function that the lieutenant, not unfamiliar with such affairs, became certain that the mayor and corporation of Nantes must be expected to breakfast, and lent himself not unwillingly to the play. "You will attend me to Paris, sir," announced the commander. "I shall wait the delays of our Commissioners no longer. ’If you want a good servant, go yourself,’ as our wise adviser, Poor Richard, has well counseled us. I mean to take him at his word. Can you be ready within the hour, Mr. Wallingford? ’T is short notice for you, but I have plenty left of my good Virginia money to serve us on our way. The boat awaits us." Wallingford made his salute, and hastened below; his heart beat fast with pleasure, being a young heart, and the immediate world of France much to its liking. The world of the Ranger appeared to grow smaller day by day, and freedom is ever a welcome gift. When the lieutenant reached his berth the captain’s arrangements had preceded him: there was a sailor already waiting with the leather portmanteau which Wallingford had brought to sea. The old judge, his father, had carried it on many an errand of peace and justice, and to the son it brought a quick reminder of home and college journeys, and a young man’s happy anticipations. The sight of it seemed to change everything, stained though this old enchanter’s wallet might be with sea water, and its brasses green with verdigris. The owner beheld it with complete delight; as for the sailor, he misunderstood a sudden gesture, and thought he was being blamed. "Cap’n ordered it up, sir; never demeaned hisself to say what for," apologized Cooper. "Take hold now and stow these things I give you," said the excited lieutenant. "Trouble is, every man on board this ship tries to be captain. Don’t wrap those boots in my clean linen!" "I ain’t no proper servant; takes too much l’arnin’," protested Cooper good-naturedly, seeing that the young squire was in a happy frame. "Our folks was all content to be good farmers an’ live warm on their own land, till I took up with follerin’ the sea. Lord give me help to get safe home this time, an’ I won’t take the chances no more. A ship ’s no place for a Christian." Wallingford’s mind was stretched to the task of making sudden provision for what might not be a short absence; he could hear the captain’s impatient tramp on the deck overhead. "I expect old Madam, your lady mother, and my sister Susan was the last ones to pack your gear for you?" ventured this friend of many years, in a careful voice, and Wallingford gave him a pat on the shoulder for answer.