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“Oh! is that all? How foolish I have been! but you ought to tell me some things, sometimes, David.”

“And so I will. I tell you now that it will be well for you to go home and go to sleep. I may have to go deep into the woods to find the fire I want.”

But his mother only walked by his side a little faster than before, and on they went to a place where a bit of woodland had grown up above fallen trees.

They searched in places wherein both had seen the fire of decaying wood a hundred times, but not one gleam of phosphorescence could be found anywhere. At last they turned to go homeward.

“What will you do, David? Go and search in the Killingworth woods to-morrow night?” she asked, as they drew near home.

“It is of no use,” he said, with a sigh. “It must be that the frost destroys the fox-fire. Unless Dr. Franklin knows of a light that will not eat up the air, everything must be put off until spring.”

The next day David Bushnell went to Killingworth, to tell the story to Dr. Gale, and Dr. Gale wrote to Silas Deane (Conn. Historical Col., Vol. 2), begging him to inquire of Dr. Franklin concerning the possibility of using the Philosopher’s Lantern, but no light was found, and the poor Turtle was housed in the seine-house on Poverty Island during the long winter, which proved to be one of great mildness from late December to mid-February.

In February we find David Bushnell before Governor Jonathan Trumbull and his Council at Lebanon, to tell about and illustrate the marvels of his wonderful machine.

During this time the whole affair had been kept a profound secret from all but the faithful few surrounding the inventor. And now, if ever, the time was drawing near wherein the labor and outlay must either repay laborer and lender, or give to both great trouble and distress.

I cannot tell you with what trepidation the young man walked into the War Office at Lebanon, with a very small Turtle under his arm.

You will please remember the situation of the colonists at that moment. On the land they feared not to contend with Englishmen. Love of liberty in the Provincials was strong enough, when united with a trusty musket and a fair supply of powder, to encounter red-coated regulars of the British army; but on the ocean, and in every bay, harbor and river, they were powerless. The enemy’s ships had kept Boston in siege for nearly two years, the Americans having no opposing force to contend with them.

Could this little Turtle, which David Bushnell carried under his arm, do the work he wished it to, why, every ship of the line could be blown into the air!

The inventor had faith in his invention, but he feared, when he looked into the faces of the grave Governor and his Council of War, that he could never impart his own belief to them.

I cannot tell you with what trust of heart and faith of soul Mrs. Bushnell kept the February day in the house by the bridge at Pochaug. Even the strong-minded, sturdy-nerved Mr. Bushnell looked often up the road by which David and Ezra would approach from Lebanon, with a keen interest in his eyes; but he would not let any word escape him, until darkness had fallen and they were not come.

“He said he would be here at eight, at the very latest,” said the mother at length, and she went to the fire and placed before the burning coals two chickens to broil.

“I’m afraid David won’t have much appetite, unless his model should be approved, and money is too precious to spend on experiments,” said Mr. Bushnell, as she returned to his side.

“Do you mean to tell me you doubt ?”