he was in reality a man of the gentlest tastes, as fond of his home
as any man in England, a faithful friend and a devoted father, and
perhaps all the more dependent on the sympathies of his own circle
because of the bitter hostility he encountered from other quarters.
But he made his plans resolutely, and said very little about them
either one way or the other, sometimes even checking Erica when she
grumbled for him, or gave vent to her indignation with regard to
the defendant.

"We work for freedom, little one," he used to say; "and it is an
honor to suffer in the cause of liberty."

"But every one says you will kill yourself with overwork," said
Erica, "and especially when you are in America."

'"They don't know what stuff I'm made of," said Raeburn; "and, even
if it should use me up, what then? It's better to wear out than to
rust out, as a wise man once remarked."

"Yes," said Erica, rather faintly.

"But I've no intention of wearing out just yet," said Raeburn,
cheerfully. "You need not be afraid, little son Eric; and, if at
the end of those two years you do come back to find me gray and
wrinkled, what will that matter so long as we are free once more.
There's a good time coming; we'll have the coziest little home in
London yet."

"With a garden for you to work in," said Erica, brightening up like
a child at the castle in the air. "And we'll keep lots of animals,