Chapter 8

AN APPOINTMENT AND A CHALLENGE
Solomon Binkus had left the city with Preston to visit Sir Jeffrey
Amherst in his country seat, near London.  Sir Benjamin had taken Jack
to dine with him at two of his clubs and after dining they had gone to
see the great actor Robert Bensley as Malvolio and the Comedian Dodd as
Sir Andrew Aguecheek.  The Britisher had been most polite, but had
seemed studiously to avoid mention of the subject nearest the heart of
the young man.  After that the latter was invited to a revel and a cock
fight, but declined the honor and went to spend an evening with his
friend, the philosopher.  For days Franklin had been shut in with gout.
Jack had found him in his room with one of his feet wrapped in bandages
and resting on a chair.
"I am glad you came, my son," said the good Doctor.  "I am in need of
better company than this foot.  Solitude is like water--good for a dip,
but you can not live in it.  Margaret has been here trying to give me
comfort, although she needs it more for herself."
"Margaret!" the boy exclaimed.  "Why does she need comfort?"
"Oh, largely on your account, my son!  Her father is obdurate and the
cause is dear to me.  This courtship of yours is taking an
international aspect."
He gave his young friend a full account of the night at Lord Howe's and
the interviews which had followed it.
"All London knows how I stand now.  They will not try again to bribe
me.  The displeasure of Sir Benjamin will react upon you."
"What shall I do if he continues to be obdurate?"
"Shove my table this way and I'll show you a problem in prudential
algebra," said the philosopher.  "It's a way I have of setting down all
the factors and striking out those that are equal and arriving at the
visible result."
With his pen and a sheet of paper he set down the factors in the
problem and his estimate of their relative value as follows:

 The Problem.
 A father=1                 Margaret, her mother and Jack=    3    1
 A patrimony=10             Happiness for Jack and Margaret= 100  90
 Margaret's old friends=1   Margaret's new friends=                1
 A father's love=1          A husband's love=                 10   9
 A father's tyranny=-1      Your respect for human rights=     5   6
                                                             -------
                                                                 106
   [Transcriber's note: In the original printed book, some of the words
   in this table have slashes (strike-outs) through them, and are not
   renderable in text format.  At the end of the HTML version of this
   book is an image of the table, showing these strike-outs.]

"Now there is the problem, and while we may differ on the estimates, I
think that most sane Americans would agree that the balance is
overwhelmingly in favor of throwing off the yoke of tyranny, and
asserting your rights, established by agreement as well as by nature.
In a like manner I work out all my important problems, so that every
factor is visible and subject to change.
"I only fear that I may not be able to provide for her in a suitable
manner," said Jack.
"Oh, you are well off," said the philosopher.  "You have some capital
and recognized talent and occupation for it.  When I reached
Philadelphia I had an empty stomach and also a Dutch dollar, a few
pennies, two soiled shirts and a pair of dirty stockings in my pockets.
Many years passed and I had a family before I was as well off as you
are."
Dinner was brought in and Jack ate with the Doctor and when the table
was cleared they played with magic squares--an invention of the
philosopher with which he was wont to divert himself and friends of an
evening.  When Jack was about to go, the Doctor asked:
"Will you hand me that little red book?  I wish to put down a credit
mark for my conscience.  This old foot of mine has been rather impudent
to-day.  There have been moments when I could have expressed my opinion
of it with joyous violence.  But I did not.  I let it carry on like a
tinker in a public house, and never said a word."
He showed the boy an interesting table containing the days of the week,
at the head of seven columns, and opposite cross-columns below were the
virtues he aimed to acquire--patience, temperance, frugality and the
like.  The book contained a table for every week in the year.  It had
been his practise, at the end of each day, to enter a black mark
opposite the virtues in which he had failed.
It was a curious and impressive document--a frank, candid record in
black and white of the history of a human soul.  To Jack it had a
sacred aspect like the story of the trials of Job.
"I begin to understand how you have built up this wonderful structure
we call Franklin," he said.
"Oh, it is but a poor and shaky thing at best, likely to tumble in a
high wind--but some work has gone into it," said the old gentleman.
"You see these white pages are rather spotted, but when I look over the
history of my spirit, as I do now and then, I observe that the pages
are slowly getting cleaner.  There is not so much ink on them as there
used to be.  You see I was once a free thinker.  I had no gods to
bother me, and my friends were of the same stripe.  In time I
discovered that they were a lot of scamps and that I was little better.
I found myself in the wrong road and immediately faced about.  Then I
began keeping these tables.  They have been a help to me."
This reminded Jack of the evil words of the melancholy Mr. Pinhorn
which had been so promptly rebuked by his friend John Adams on the ride
to Philadelphia.  The young man made a copy of one of the tables and
was saying good night to his venerable friend when the latter remarked:
"I shall go to Sir John Pringle's in the morning for advice.  He is a
noted physician.  My man will be having a day off.  Could you go with
me at ten?"
"Gladly," said Jack.
"Then I shall pick you up at your lodgings.  You will see your rival at
Pringle's.  He is at home on leave and has been going to Sir John's
office every Tuesday morning at ten-thirty with his father.  General
Clarke, a gruff, gouty old hero of the French and Indian wars and an
aggressive Tory.  He is forever tossing and goring the Whigs.  It may
be the only chance you will have to see that rival of yours.  He is a
handsome lad."
Doctor Franklin, with his crutch beside him in the cab, called for his
young friend at the hour appointed.
"I go to his office when I have need of his advice," said the Doctor.
"If ever he came to me, the wretch would charge me two guineas.  We
have much argument over the processes of life in the human body, of
which I have gained some little knowledge.  Often he flatters me by
seeking my counsel in difficult cases."
The office of the Doctor Baronet was on the first floor of a large
building in Gough Square, Fleet Street.  A number of gentlemen sat in
comfortable chairs in a large waiting room.
"Sir John will see you in a moment, sir," an attendant said to Doctor
Franklin as they entered.  The moment was a very long one.
"In London there are many people who disagree with the clock," Franklin
laughed.  "In this office, even the moments have the gout.  They limp
along with slow feet."
It was a gloomy room.  The chairs, lounges and tables had a venerable
look like that of the men who came there with warped legs and old
mahogany faces.  The red rugs and hangings suggested "the effect of old
port on the human countenance, being of a hue like unto that of many
cheeks and noses in the waiting company," as the young man wrote.  The
door to the private room of the great physician creaked on its hinges
with a kind of groan when he came out accompanied by a limping patient.
"Wait here for a minute--a gout minute," said Franklin to his young
friend.  "When Pringle dismisses me, I will present you."
Jack sat and waited while the room filled with ruddy, crotchety
gentlemen supported by canes or crutches--elderly, old and of middle
age.  Among those of the latter class was a giant of a man, erect and
dignified, accompanied by a big blond youngster in a lieutenant's
uniform.  He sat down and began to talk with another patient of the
troubles in America.
"I see the damned Yankees have thrown another cargo of tea overboard,"
said he in a tone of anger.
"This time it was in Cape Cod.  We must give those Yahoos a lesson."
Jack surmised now that here was the aggressive Tory General of whom the
Doctor had spoken and that the young man was his son.
"I fear that it would be a costly business sending men to fight across
three thousand miles of sea," said the other.
"Bosh!  There is not one Yankee in a hundred that has the courage of a
rabbit.  With a thousand British grenadiers, I would undertake to go
from one end of America to another and amputate the heads of the males,
partly by force and partly by coaxing."
A laugh followed these insulting words.  Jack Irons rose quickly and
approached the man who had uttered them.  The young American was angry,
but he managed to say with good composure:
"I am an American, sir, and I demand a retraction of those words or a
chance to match my courage against yours."
A murmur of surprise greeted his challenge.
The Britisher turned quickly with color mounting to his brow and
surveyed the sturdy form of the young man.
"I take back nothing that I say," he declared.
"Then, in behalf of my slandered countrymen, I demand the right to
fight you or any Britisher who has the courage to take up your quarrel."
Jack Irons had spoken calmly like one who had weighed his words.
The young Lieutenant who had entered the room with the fiery,
middle-aged Britisher, rose and faced the American and said:
"I will take up his quarrel, sir.  Here is my card."
"And here is mine," said Jack.  "When will you be at home?"
"At noon to-morrow."
"Some friend of mine will call upon you," Jack assured the other.
A look of surprise came to the face of the Lieutenant as he surveyed
the card in his hand.  Jack was prepared for the name he read which was
that of Lionel Clarke.
Franklin wrote some weeks later in a letter to John Irons of Albany:
"When I came out of the physician's office I saw nothing in Jack's face
and manner to suggest the serious proceeding he had entered upon.  If I
had, or if some one had dropped a hint to me, I should have done what I
could to prevent this unfortunate affair.  He chatted with Sir John a
moment and we went out as if nothing unusual had happened.  On the way
to my house we talked of the good weather we were having, of the late
news from America and of my summons to appear before the Privy Council.
He betrayed no sign of the folly which was on foot.  I saw him only
once after he helped me into the house and left me to go to his
lodgings.  But often I find myself thinking of his handsome face and
heroic figure and gentle voice and hand.  He was like a loving son to
me."
2
That evening Solomon arrived with Preston.  Solomon gave a whistle of
relief as he entered their lodgings on Bloomsbury Square and dropped
into a chair.
"Wal, sir!  We been flyin' eround as brisk as a bee," he remarked.  "I
feel as if I had spraint one leg and spavined t'other.  The sun was
over the fore yard when we got back, and since then, we went to see the
wild animals, a hip'pottermas, an' lions, an' tigers, an' snakes, an' a
bird with a neck as long as a hoe handle, an' a head like a tommyhawk.
I wouldn't wonder if he could peck some, an' they say he can fetch a
kick that would knock a hoss down.  Gosh!  I kind o' felt fer my gun!
Gol darn his pictur'!  Think o' bein' kicked by a bird an' havin' to be
picked up an' carried off to be mended.  We took a long, crooked trail
hum an' walked all the way.  It's kind o' hard footin'."
Solomon spoke with the animation of a boy.  At last he had found
something in London which had pleased and excited him.
"Did you have a good time at Sir Jeffrey's?" the young man asked.
"Better'n a barn raisin'!  Say, hones', I never seen nothin' like
it--'twere so blandiferous!  At fust I were a leetle bit like a man
tied to a tree--felt so helpless an' unsart'in.  Didn't know what were
goin' to happen.  Then ol' Jeff come an' ontied me, as ye might say,
an' I 'gun to feel right.  'Course Preston tol' me not to be
skeered--that the doin's would be friendly, an' they was.  Gol darn my
pictur'!  I'll bet a pint o' powder an' a fish hook thar ain't no nicer
womern in this world than ol' Jeff's wife--not one.  I give her my
jack-knife.  She ast me fer it.  'Twere a good knife, but I were glad
to give it to her.  Gosh!  I dunno what she wants to do with it.  Mebbe
she likes to whittle.  They's some does.  I kind o' like it myself.  I
warned her to be keerful not to cut herself 'cause 'twere sharper'n the
tooth o' a weasel.  The vittles was tasty--no common ven'son er moose
meat, but the best roast beef, an' mutton, an' ham an' jest 'nough
Santa Cruz rum to keep the timber floatin'!  They snickered when I tol'
'em I'd take my tea bar' foot.  I set 'mongst a lot o' young folks,
mostly gals, full o' laugh an' ginger, an' as purty to look at as a
flock o' red birds, an' I sot thar tellin' stories 'bout the Injun
wars, an' bear, an' moose, an' painters till the moon were down an' a
clock hollered one.  Then I let each o' them gals snip off a grab o' my
hair.  I dunno what they wanted to do with it, but they 'pear to be as
fond o' takin' hair as Injuns.  Mebbe 'twas fer good luck.  I wouldn't
wonder if my head looks like it was shingled.  Ayes!  I had an almighty
good time.
"These 'ere British is good folks as fur as I've been able to look 'em
over.  It's the gov'ment that's down on us an' the gov'ment ain't the
people--you hear to me.  They's lots o' good, friendly folks here, but
I'm ready to go hum.  They's a ship leaves Dover Thursday 'fore sunrise
an' my name is put down."
Jack told them in detail of the unfortunate event of the morning.
Solomon whistled while his face began to get ready for a shot.
"Neevarious!" he exclaimed.  "Here's suthin' that'll have to be 'tended
to 'fore I take the water."
"Clarke is full of hartshorn and vinegar," said Preston.  "He was like
that in America.  He could make more trouble in ten minutes than a
regiment could mend in a year.  He is what you would call 'a mean
cuss.'  But for him and Lord Cornwallis, I should be back in the
service.  They blame me for the present posture of affairs in America."
"Jack, I'm glad that young pup ain't me," said Solomon.  "Thar never
was a man better cocalated to please a friend er hurt an enemy.  If he
was to say pistols I guess that ol' sling o' yours would bu'st out
laughin' an' I ain't no idee he could stan' a minnit in front o' your
hanger."
"It's bad business, and especially for you," said Preston.  "Dueling is
not so much in favor here as in France.  Of course there are duels, but
the best people in England are set against the practise.  You would be
sure to get the worst of it.  The old General is a favorite of the
King.  He is booked for knighthood.  If you were to kill his son in the
present state of feeling here, your neck would be in danger.  If you
were to injure him you would have to make a lucky escape, or go to
prison.  It is not a pleasant outlook for one who is engaged to an
English girl.  He has a great advantage over you."
"True, but it gives me a better chance to vindicate the courage of an
American.  I shall fight.  I would rather die than lie down to such an
insult.  There has been too much of that kind of talk here.  It can not
go on in my hearing without being trumped.  If I were capable of taking
such an insult, I could never again face the girl I love.  There must
be an apology as public as the insult or a fight.  I don't want to kill
any man, but I must show them that their cap doesn't fit me."
Jack and Solomon sat up late.  The young man had tried to see Margaret
that evening, but the door boy at Sir Benjamin's had informed him that
the family was not at home.  He rightly suspected that the boy had done
this under orders from the Baronet.  He wrote a long letter to the girl
apprising her of late developments in the relations of the ministry and
Doctor Franklin, regarding which the latter desired no secrecy, and of
his own unhappy situation.
"If I could bear such an insult in silence," he added, "I should be
unworthy of the fairest and dearest girl on earth.  With such an
estimate of you, I must keep myself in good countenance.  Whatever
happens, be sure that I am loving you with all my heart, and longing
for the time when I can make you my wife."
This letter he put into his pocket with the purpose of asking Preston
to deliver it if circumstances should drive him out of England or into
prison.
Captain Preston went with Solomon Binkus next day to the address on the
card of Lieutenant Clarke.  It was the house of the General, who was
waiting with his son in the reception room.  They walked together to
the Almack Club.  The General was self-contained.  It would seem that
his bad opinion of Yankees was not quite so comprehensive as it had
been.  The whole proceeding went forward with the utmost politeness.
"General, Mr. Binkus and John Irons, Jr., are my friends," said Captain
Preston.
"Indeed!" the General answered.
"Yes, and they are friends of England.  They saved my neck in America.
I have assured young Irons that your words, if they were correctly
reported to me, were spoken in haste, and that they do not express your
real opinion."
"And what, sir, were the words reported to you?" the General asked.
Preston repeated them.
"That is my opinion."
"It is mine also," young Clarke declared.
Solomon's face changed quickly.  He took deliberate aim at the enemy
and drawled:
"Can't be yer opinion is wuth more than the lives o' these young
fellers that's goin' to fight."
"Gentlemen, you will save time by dropping all thought of apologies,"
said the General.
"Then it only remains for you to choose your weapons and agree with us
as to time and place," said Preston.
"I choose pistols," said the young Britisher.  "The time and place may
suit your convenience, so it be soon and not too far away,"
"Let us say the cow wallow on Shooter's Hill, near the oaks, at sunrise
to-morrow," Preston proposed.
"I agree," the Lieutenant answered.
"Whatever comes of it, let us have secrecy and all possible protection
from each side to the other when the affair is ended," said Preston.
"I agree to that also," was the answer of young Clarke.
When they were leaving, Solomon said to Preston:
"That 'ere Gin'ral is as big as Goliar."