"Curse it!" he said, wrathfully, "I'm serious. You don't know how
serious I am. It's no laughing matter, George. I must do something to
ease me!" He burst out into a roar, swearing in volleys.
"D' ye think I wish to appear contemptible?" he shouted. "D' ye think I
like to sit here like an old wife, scolding in one breath and preaching
thrift in the next? A weak-kneed, chicken-livered, white-bellied old
bullfrog that squeaks and jumps, plunk! into the puddle when a footstep
falls in the grass! Am I not a patroon? Am I not Dutch? Granted I'm fat
and slow and a glutton, and lazy as a wolverine. I can fight like one,
too! Don't make any mistake there, George!"
His broad face flushed crimson, his little, green eyes snapped fire.
"D' ye think I don't love a fight as well as my neighbor? D' ye think
I've a stomach for insults and flouts and winks and nudges? Have I a
liver to sit doing sums on my thumbs when these impudent British are
kicking my people out of their own doors? Am I of a kidney to smile and
bow, and swallow and digest the orders of Tory swashbucklers, who lay
down a rule of conduct for men who should be framing rules of common
decency for them? D' ye think I'm a snail or a potato or an empty pair
o' breeches? Damnation!"
Rage convulsed him. He recovered his self-command slowly, smashing his
pipe in the interval; and I, astonished beyond measure, waited for the
explanation which he appeared to be disposed to give.
"If I'm what I am," he said, hoarsely, "an old jack-ass he-hawing
'Peace! peace! thrift! thrift!' it is because I must and not because the
music pleases me.... And I had not meant to tell you why--for none other
suspects it--but my personal honor is at stake. I am in debt to a
friend, George, and unless I am left in peace here to collect my tithes
and till my fields and run my mills and ship my pearl-ashes, I can never
hope to pay a debt of honor incurred--and which I mean to pay, if I
live, so help me God!
"Lad, if this house, these farms, these acres were my own, do you think
I'd hesitate to polish up that old sword yonder that my father carried
when Schenectady went up in flames?... Know me better, George!... Know
that this condemnation to inaction is the bitterest trial I have ever
known. How easy it would be for me to throw my own property into one
balance, my sword into the other, and say, 'Defend the one with the
other or be robbed!' But I can't throw another man's lands into the
balance. I can't raise the war-yelp and go careering about after glory
when I owe every shilling I possess and thousands more to an honorable
and generous gentleman who refused all security for the loan save my own
word of honor.
"And now, simple, brave, high-minded as he is, he offers to return me my
word of honor, free me from his debt, and leave me unshackled to conduct
in this coming war as I see fit.
"But that is more than he can do, George. My word once pledged can only
be redeemed by what it stood for, and he is powerless to give it back.
"That is all, sir.... Pray think more kindly of an old fool in future,
when you plume yourself upon your liberty to draw sword in the most just
cause this world has ever known."
"It is I who am the fool, Sir Lupus," I said, in a low voice.