The Real America in Romance, Volume 6 | Page 9

them with half-smiles; but those half-smiles were cold and
uncongenial, and there seemed to be a settled purpose on her part as
well as theirs to dislike each other. To no one did Dorothe express this
dislike save to her husband, and to him she never lost an opportunity
for doing so.
In 1654, Claybourne, who was in possession of Kent Island, was
threatened by the Catholics from Maryland, and John Stevens, with his
friend Hugh Price and half a dozen more, went to aid in the defence of
the island. They camped at the mouth of the Severn, in the vicinity of
the present city of Annapolis, where they were joined by Claybourne
and a body of three hundred men.
On the 25th of March, 1654, Stone sailed with a force down the river,
landed and attacked Claybourne. At early dawn the sleeping Puritans
were awakened by the boom of cannon and volleys of muskets. They
arose, formed their lines of battle and poured a tremendous fire upon
the enemy. The Marylanders landed and tried to storm their fort; but
after an hour retreated, leaving twenty killed and twice as many
wounded on the field. Claybourne had conquered and, for a brief space
of time, was to hold sway over the Severn and Kent Island.
John Stevens returned to his home to find that his wife's extravagance
had impoverished his estates and almost brought him to beggary. He
had remonstrated with her without avail. She wrecked her husband's
fortune for a few weeks of vain show.

"Were you more prudent, Dorothe," said John, "we could soon live at
ease. I have fine estates and earn money sufficient to make us
comfortable for life and leave a competency for our children."
"Peace, man! Do you disdain to labor for your wife and children? Do
not other men support their families, and why not you, pray?"
"But other men have helpmates in their wives."
This was the spark which ignited the hidden fires. Her black eyes
blazed, and her breast heaved. She upbraided him until he withdrew
and, mounting his horse, rode away. At night he returned to find his
wife silent and morose, and for nine days they scarcely spoke. This life
was trying to John.
After a few days she grew more amiable and expressed sympathy with
her husband in his financial straits.
"I am going to economize," she declared. "I will take no heed what I
shall eat, nor what I shall drink, nor wherewithal I shall be clothed."
Again for the thousandth time he took heart. After all, Dorothe might
become a helpmate. She was so beautiful and so cheerful in her
pleasanter moods that he thought her a treasure. When he took his baby
on his knee and felt her soft, warm cheek against his own, he realized
that life might be endurable even in adversity.
One evening, as they talked over his financial troubles, he said:
"Our family has a fortune in Florida."
At the name of fortune, Mrs. Stevens' head became erect, and she was
all attention like a war-horse at the blast of a trumpet.
"If you have a fortune there, why don't you go and get it?" she asked.
"We would, I trow, did we know we could have it for the going," he
made answer.

"And wherefore can you not?"
"St. Augustine is under the Spanish rule, and we know not that they
will permit an Englishman even to inherit property there. My
grandfather was a Spaniard and died possessed of valuable property."
"Can you not get it? Can you not get it?" she asked.
"I do not know."
"Try."
"We have thought to try it."
His brother was sent to Florida, but failed, though assured by the
lawyers that they might in time recover it.
There is no business so unprofitable as waiting for dead men's money.
Fortune flies at pursuit and smiles on the indifferent.
The prospects of John Stevens were certainly at a low ebb, and he
found his affairs daily growing worse. Large consignments of tobacco
sent to England remained unpaid for, and he stood in danger of losing
all. He thought of making a voyage to London for the purpose of
looking after his accounts. John Stevens had never been away from his
family, save in the short campaign on the Severn, and he dreaded to
leave home. He loved his children and, despite her faults, he loved his
wife. As he held his baby in his arms and listened to her gentle crowing
and heard the merry prattle of his boy at play, he asked himself if he
should ever see those children again, were he to go away.
John had three friends in whom he reposed great confidence. They
were Drummond, Lawerence, and Cheeseman. One evening