Give
us a cup of tea, Phyllis, and we will tell you all about it."
John did not need to say a word. He sat at Phyllis's side, and the
Bishop painted the struggling little republic in words that melted
and thrilled every heart.
"When do you go, John?" asked Phyllis.
"To-morrow."
And she leaned toward him, and kissed him--a kiss of consecration,
of love and approval and sympathy.
Richard's pale face was also flushed and eager, his black eyes glowing
like live coals. "I will go with John," he said; "Texas is my neighbor.
It is a fight for Protestant freedom, at my own door. I am not going
to be denied."
"Your duty is at home, Richard. You can help with your prayers and
purse. You could not leave your plantation now without serious loss,
and you have many to think for besides yourself."
Of the final success of the Texans no one doubted. Their cry for help
had been answered from the New England hills and all down the valley
of the Mississippi, and along the shores of the Gulf of Mexico and
the coasts of Florida. In fact, the first settlers of Texas had been
young men from the oldest northern colonies. Mexico had cast longing
looks toward those six vigorous States which had grown into power on
the cold, barren hills of New England. She believed that if she could
induce some of their population to settle within Mexican limits, she
could win from them the secret of their success.
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