"For me," explained the major, "I am of fighting and praying Huguenot blood, and here comes in another strain to our nation’s making. I might have been a parson myself if there had not been a stray French gallant to my grandfather, who ran away with a saintly Huguenot maiden; his ghost still walks by night and puts the devil into me so that I forget my decent hymns. My family name is Huyghens; ’t was a noble house of the Low Countries. Christian Huyghens, author of the Cosmotheoros, was my father’s kinsman, and I was christened for the famous General Tilly of stern faith, but the gay Frenchman will ever rule me. ’Tis all settled by our antecedents," and he turned to Captain Paul Jones. "I’m for the flower-de-luce, sir; if I were a younger man I’d sail with you to-morrow! ’T is very hard for us aging men with boys’ hearts in us to stay decently at home. I should have been born in France!" "France is your country’s friend, sir," said Paul Jones, bowing across the table. "Let us drink to France, gentlemen!" and the company drank the toast. Old Cæsar bowed with the rest as he stood behind his master’s chair, and smacked his lips with pathetic relish of the wine which he had tasted only in imagination. The captain’s quick eyes caught sight of him. "By your leave, Colonel Hamilton!" he exclaimed heartily. "This is a toast that every American should share the pleasure of drinking. I observe that my old friend Cæsar has joined us in spirit," and he turned with a courtly bow and gave a glass to the serving man. "You have as much at stake as we in this great enterprise," he said gently, in a tone that moved the hearts of all the supper company. "May I drink with you to France, our country’s ally?" A lesser soul might have babbled thanks, but Cæsar, who had been born a Guinea prince, drank in silence, stepped back to his place behind his master, and stood there like a king. His underlings went and came serving the supper; he ruled them like a great commander on the field of battle, and hardly demeaned himself to move again until the board was cleared. "I seldom see a black face without remembering the worst of my boyish days when I sailed in the Two Friends, slaver," said the captain gravely, but with easy power of continuance. "Our neighbor town of Dumfries was in the tobacco trade, and all their cargoes were unloaded in Carsethorn Bay, close by my father’s house. I was easily enough tempted to follow the sea; I was trading in the Betsey at seventeen, and felt myself a man of experience. I have observed too many idle young lads hanging about your Portsmouth wharves who ought to be put to sea under a smart captain. They are ready to cheer or to jeer at strangers, and take no pains to be manly. I began to follow the sea when I was but a child, yet I was always ambitious of command, and ever thinking how I might best study the art of navigation."