A faint disgust stirred my pulse. We Ormonds had as much to lose as he,
but yelled it not to the skies, nor clamored of gain and loss in such
unseemly fashion, ignoring higher motive.

"Sir Lupus," I said, "if we can remain neutral with honor, that surely
is wisest. But can we?"

"Remain neutral! Of course we can!" he shouted.

"Honorably?"

"Eh? Where's honor in this mob-rule that breaks out in Boston to spot
the whole land with a scurvy irruption! Honor? Where is it in this vile
distemper which sets old neighbors here a-itching to cut each other's
throats? One says, 'You're a Tory! Take that!' and slips a knife into
him. T'other says, 'You're a rebel!' Bang!--and blows his head off!
Honor? Bah!"

He removed his wig to wipe his damp and shiny pate, then set the wig on
askew and glared at me out of his small, ruddy eyes.

"I'm for peace," he said, "and I care not who knows it. Then, whether
Tory or rebel win the day, here am I, holding to my own with both hands
and caring nothing which rag flies overhead, so that it brings peace and
plenty to honest folk. And, mark me, then we shall live to see these
plumed and gold-laced glory-mongers slinking round to beg their bread at
our back doors. Dammy, let 'em bellow now! Let 'em shout for war! I'll
keep my mills busy and my agent walking the old rent-beat. If they can
fill their bellies with a mess of glory I'll not grudge them what they