"Hark ye, Richard," said Comyn, stretching himself in an arm-chair; "we
are come to take the wind out of your sails, and leave you without an
excuse for going home. And we want your captain, alive or dead.
Charles, here, is to give him a commission in his Majesty's Navy."

Then I knew why Dorothy had laughed when I had spoken of seeing her
again. Comyn--bless him!--had told her of his little scheme.

"Egad, Charles!" cried his Lordship, "to look at his glum face, one
might think we were a couple of Jews who had cornered him."

Alas for the perversity of the heart! Instead of leaping for joy,
as no doubt they had both confidently expected, I was both troubled and
perplexed by this unlooked-for news. Oak, when bent, is even harder to
bend back again. And so it has ever been with me. I had determined,
after a bitter struggle, to go to Maryland, and had now become used to
that prospect. I was anxious to see my grandfather, and to confront
Grafton Carvel with his villany. And there was John Paul. What would
he think?

"What ails you, Richard?" Comyn demanded somewhat testily.

"Nothing, Jack," I replied. "I thank you from my heart, and you, Mr.
Fox. I know that commissions are not to be had for the asking, and I
rejoice with the captain over his good fortune. But, gentlemen," I said
soberly, "I had most selfishly hoped that I might be able to do a service
to John Paul in return for his charity to me. You offer him something
nearer his deserts, something beyond my power to give him."

Fox's eyes kindled.