servants in new family livery, sailors from the docks, clerks from the counting houses, all gave the street a busy air--lent it a pleasant assurance of affluence.
I was mistaken when I thought I could ride by as a stranger might. It seemed to me that there was no one too busy to stop and look, to turn and whisper a word to someone else. They had learned already that I was my father's son. I could feel a hot flame of anger burning my cheeks, the old, stinging passion of resentment I had felt so often when my father's name was mentioned. They knew me. Their looks alone told that, but never a nod, or smile of greeting, marked my return.
Though I had never spoken to them, I knew them all--the Penfields, father and son, tall and lean with bony faces and sandy hair and eyebrows, and restless, pale blue eyes--Squire Land, small and ascetic, his lips constantly puckered as though he had tasted something unpleasant. Captain Proctor, stouter than when I had seen him last, with the benign good nature that
This is such a classic in style.An early example of the really cool hero.
Sword fights, misunderstandings dramatic verbal and physical duals,and a plot that moves so that you can\'t see the complete picture.
Set in America among the landed gentry at the time of the French revolution.
I hope others will enjoy it as much as I did.
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