"My books," said my father, "still contrive to balance."

"In the year 1788," Mr. Penfield went on, "you remember that year, do you not? In that year the six of us here engaged in a venture. From the north we had carried here five hundred bales of fur, valued at fifty dollars to the bale. You contracted with us, Captain Shelton, to convey those bales to England. It would have been a nice piece of business, if your supercargo had not been an honest man. He knew you, Shelton, if we did not. He knew the game you had planned to play, and though he was your brother-in-law, he was man enough to stop it."

Mr. Penfield's voice had risen, so that it rang through the room, and his words followed each other in cold indictment. The others stood watching my father with strained attention.

"Indeed," he said.

"Yes," said Mr. Penfield, "as you so aptly put it--indeed. Your ship carrying that consignment, had Jason Hill as supercargo, and Ned Aiken, that d.a.m.ned parasite of yours, as master. A day out from this port, a plank sprung aft, which obliged him to put back to Boston for repairs.

The cargo was trans-shipped. When it was aboard again, Jason Hill happened to examine that cargo. The furs had gone. In their place five hundred bales of chips had been loaded in the hold. He went to the master for an explanation. Mr. Aiken, who had been drinking heavily, was asleep in the cabin, and on the table beside him was a letter, Shelton. You remember that letter? It bore instructions from you to scuttle that ship ten miles out of Liverpool harbor."

"And," said my father, with another bow, "I was to collect the insurance.

It was nicely planned."

"If you remember that, you recall what happened next. We called on you, Shelton, and accused you of what you had done. You neither confirmed nor denied it. We told you then to leave the town. We warned you never to return. We warned you that we were through with your trickery. We were through with your cheating and your thieving. We warned you, Shelton, and now you're back, back, by your own confession, on another rogue's errand."

"Not on another's," my father objected mildly. "One of my own, Mr.

Penfield. The experience you have outlined so lucidly convinced me that it was better to stick closely to my own affairs."

"Mr. Shelton," Mr. Penfield went on, regardless of the interruption, "we warned you yesterday to leave the town before nightfall, and you have failed to take our advice."

"I see no reason why I should leave," replied my father easily. "I am comfortable here for the moment. I would not be outside. Even the arguments you have given are specious. You got your furs back, and if I recall, they proved to be so badly moth eaten that they were not fit for any trade."

"Even though you see no reason," said Major Proctor smoothly, "you are going to leave, Shelton. You are going to leave in one hour. If you delay a minute later, we will come with friends who will know how to handle you. We will come in an hour with a tar pot and a feather mattress."

"You are not only unwelcome to us on account of your past," said Mr.

Penfield, "but more recent developments make it impossible, quite impossible for you to stay. We have heard your story already from Mr.

Jason Hill. You are right that it is no concern of ours, except that we remember the good of this town. We have a business with France, and we cannot afford to lose it. Major Proctor was blunt just now, and yet he is right. Give us credit for warning you, at least. You will go, of course?"

My father smiled again, and smoothed the wrinkles of his coat. For some reason the scene seemed vastly pleasant. He shrugged his shoulders in a deprecatory gesture, walked over to the table, and lifted up a gla.s.s of ram.

"I remarked before that I was quite comfortable here," he replied after a moment's pause. "I may add that I am amused. Since I have returned to the ancestral roof, and looked again at the portraits of my family, I have had many callers to entertain me. Two have tried to rob me. One has threatened me with death. And now six come, and threaten me with tar and feathers. Positively, it is too diverting to leave. Pray don't interrupt me, Captain Tracy. In a moment you shall have the floor."

He took a sip from his rum gla.s.s, watching them over the brim. And then he continued, slowly and coldly, yet turning every period with a perfect courtesy:

"There is one thing, only one, that you and all my other callers appear to have overlooked. You fail for some reason to realize that I do things only of my own volition. It is eccentric, I know, but we all have our failings."

He paused to place his gla.s.s daintily on the table, and straightened the lace at his wrist with careful solicitude.

"Once before this morning I have stated that I am not particularly afraid of anything. Strange as it may seem, this statement still applies. Or put it this way,--I have grown blase. People have threatened me too often.

No, gentlemen, you are going to lose your trading privileges, I think.

And I am going to remain in my house quite as long as I choose."

"Which will be one hour," said Major Proctor.

"Be careful, Major," said my father. "You have grown too stout to risk your words. Do you care to know why I am going to remain?"

No one answered.

"Then I will tell you," he went on. "Three of my ships are in the harbor, and times are troublesome at sea. They are armed with heavy metal, and manned by quite as reckless and unpleasant a lot of men as I have ever beheld on a deck. Between them they have seventeen guns of varying calibre, and there is powder in their magazines. Do I need to go any further, or do we understand each other?"

"No," snapped Captain Tracy hoa.r.s.ely. "I'm d.a.m.ned if we do."

"It sounds crude, as I say it," he continued apologetically, "and yet true, nevertheless. As soon as I see anyone of you, or any of my other neighbors enter my grounds again, I shall order my ships to tack down the river, and open fire on the town. They have sail ready now, gentlemen. My servant has gone already to carry them my order."

"And you'll hang for piracy tomorrow morning," laughed the Major harshly. "Shelton, you have grown mad."

"Exactly," said my father gently. "Mad, Major. Mad enough to put my threat into effect in five minutes, if you do not leave this house; mad enough to scuttle every ship in this harbor; mad enough to set your warehouses in flames; mad enough even to find the company of you and your friends most d.a.m.nably dull and wearisome; mad enough to wonder why I ever suffered you to remain so long beneath my roof; mad enough to believe you a pack of curs and cowards, and mad enough to treat you as such. Keep off, Tracy, you bloated fool!"

"By G.o.d!" Captain Tracy shouted, "We'll burn this house over your head.

In an hour we'll have you shot against the town hall."

"Perhaps," said my father, "and yet I doubt it. Pray remember that I keep my word. Your hats are in the hall, gentlemen. In three minutes now my ships weigh anchor. If you do not go, I cannot stop them."

Mr. Penfield had grown a trifle pale. "Captain Shelton," he demanded slowly, "are you entirely serious? I almost believe you are. Of course you understand the consequences?"

"Perfectly," said my father.

"Let us go, gentlemen," said Mr. Penfield. "You will hear from us later."

And he turned quickly towards the hall.

As he did so, my father drew back his right arm, and drove his fist into Captain Tracy's upturned face. His blow was well directed, for the captain staggered and fell. In almost the same motion he wheeled on Major Proctor, who had started back, and was tugging at his sword.

"Later, perhaps, Major," he said, without even lifting his voice. "But today I am busy. Pray take him away. He was always indiscreet. And you,"

he added to Mr. Lane, "surely you know well enough not to try conclusions with me. Take him away. Your hats are in the hall. I shall show you the door myself. After you, gentlemen."

And he followed them, closing the door gently behind him.

X

Mademoiselle, who had risen from her chair, where she had listened, only half understanding the conversation in a tongue foreign from hers, stared at the closed door, her lips parted, and her forehead wrinkled.

"What have they been saying?" she asked. "Why are they afraid? Is everyone afraid of this father of yours?"

And then, impulsively, she seized me by the arm.

"But it makes no difference. Come, it is our one chance; come quickly, Monsieur. I must speak to you, where he will not disturb us."

"But where?" I asked, still staring straight before me; and then I noticed a bolt on the morning room door. I sprang toward it and drew it hastily. "It will do no good to talk, Mademoiselle. If you had understood--" And as I spoke, the enormity of the thing loomed still larger before me.

"Mademoiselle, this morning he has robbed my uncle of a fortune, s.n.a.t.c.hed it from him here in this very room, and now he has threatened to move his ships into midstream, and to open fire on the town! And Mademoiselle, he means to do it. I thought once--but he means to do it, Mademoiselle."

She pursed her lips, and looked at me from the corner of her eye.

"Pouf!" she said. "So you are growing frightened also. Yet I can understand. The Marquis always said that Captain Shelton could frighten the devil himself."