“‘Sit down here and tell me all about Franklin,’ he said with a smile.

“I told him what was going on in Paris and especially of the work of our great minister to the court of Louis XVI.

“He heard me with deep interest and when I had finished arose and gave me his hand saying: 

“‘Colonel, again you have won my gratitude.  We must keep our courage.’

“I told him of my unhappy meeting with Arnold.

“’The man has his faults—­he is very human, but he has been a good soldier,’ Washington answered.

“The thought came to me that the love of liberty had lifted many of us above the human plane of sordid striving.

“Solomon came into camp that evening.  He was so glad to see me that he could only wring my hand and utter exclamations.

“‘How is the gal?’ he asked presently.

“I told him of our meeting in Passy and of my fear that we should not meet again.

“‘It seems as if the Lord were not yet willing to let us marry,’ I said.

“‘Course not,’ he answered.  ’When yer boat is in the rapids it’s no time fer to go ashore an’ pick apples.  I cocalate the Lord is usin’ ye fer to show the Ol’ World what’s inside o’ us Americans.’

“Margaret, I wonder if the Lord really wished to show you and others the passion which is in the heart of Washington and his army.  On the way to my ship I was like one making bloody footprints in the snow.  How many of them I have seen!  And now is the time to tell you that Doctor Franklin has written a letter informing me how deeply our part in the little pageant had impressed Mr. Hartley and the court people of France and that he had secured another loan.

“Solomon is a man of faith.  He never falters.

“He said to me:  ’Don’t worry.  That gal has got a backbone.  She ain’t no rye straw.  She’s a-goin’ to think it over.’

“Neither spoke for a time.  We sat by an open fire in front of his tent as the night fell.  Solomon was filling his pipe.  He swallowed and his right eye began to take aim.  I knew that some highly important theme would presently open the door of his intellect and come out.

“‘Jack, I been over to Albany,’ he said.  ’Had a long visit with Mirandy.  They ain’t no likelier womern in Ameriky.  I’ll bet a pint o’ powder an’ a fish hook on that.  Ye kin look fer ’em till yer eyes run but ye’ll be obleeged to give up.’

“He lighted his pipe and smoked a few whiffs and added:  ’Knit seventy pair o’ socks fer my regiment this fall.’

“‘Have you asked her to marry you?’ I inquired.

“’No.  ‘Tain’t likely she’d have me,’ he answered.  ’She’s had troubles enough.  I wouldn’t ask no womern to marry me till the war is fit out.  I’m liable to git all shot up any day.  I did think I’d ask her but I didn’t.  Got kind o’ skeered an’ skittish when we sot down together, an’ come to think it all over, ’twouldn’t ‘a’ been right.’