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 he met them at the home
of Drummond and, relating his condition, asked:

"Knowing all as you do, what do you advise?"

"By all means, go to London," answered Drummond.

"Ought I to leave my wife and children?"

"Wherefore not?"

"If I perish on the voyage, they will be wholly unprovided for."

"Your father was a sailor."

"But his son is not."

"Yet methinks the son should inherit some of the father's courage."

John Stevens' cheek reddened at the delicate insinuation against his
courage, and he responded: