"Here be the 'Flying Postman,' madam, with the great speech of Mr. Burke
in it about the port of Boston; but it won't do a mossel o' good, madam,
though he do tell 'em to keep their hands out o' the Americans'
pockets."
"The port of Boston?"
"See you, madam, they are a-going to shut the port o' Boston, and make
Salem the place of entry; that's to punish the Bostonians; and Mr.
Burke, he says, 'The House has been told that Salem is only seventeen
miles from Boston but justice is not an idea of geography, and the
Americans are condemned without being heard. Yet the universal custom,
on any alteration of charters, is to hear the parties at the bar of the
House. Now, the question is, Are the Americans to be heard, or not,
before the charter is broken for our convenience?... The Boston bill is
a diabolical bill.'"
He read aloud this bit of Mr. Burke's fiery eloquence, in a high,
droning voice, and would, according to his custom, have continued the
entertainment; but Katherine, preferring to use her own intelligence,
borrowed the paper and was about to leave the room with it, when he
suddenly remembered a scarf of great beauty which he had not shown.
"I bought it for my Lady Suffolk," he said; "but Lord Suffolk died
sudden, and black my lady had to wear. It's forrin, madam; and here it
is--the very colour of affradiles. But mayhap, as it is candle-teening,
you'd like to wait till the day comes again."
A singular look of speculation came into Katherine's face. She examined
the scarf without delay; and, as she fingered the delicate silk, she led
the man on to talk of Lady Suffolk, though, indeed, he scarcely needed
the stimulus of questioning. Without regard as to whether Katherine was
taking any interest or not in his information, he detailed with hurried
avidity the town talk that had clung to her reputation for so many
years; and he so fully described the handsome cavalry officer that was
her devoted attendant that Katherine had no difficulty in recognizing
her husband, even without the clews which her own knowledge of the
parties gave her.
She stood in the gray light by the window, fingering the delicate
satin, and listening. The pedler glanced from his goods to her face, and
talked rapidly, interloping bits of news about the court and the
fashions; but going always back to Lady Suffolk and her lover, and what
was likely to take place now that Lord Suffolk was out of the way.
"Though there's them that do say the captain has a comely wife hid up in
the country."