Gabriel gritted his teeth, smiled, and said, “Yes, Ma’am. Thank you, Ma’am.”
With a solemn look on his face and a stern glance at Gabriel, Reverend Loring led the mealtime prayer. Once the food had been passed around the table, he began another one of his speeches on glorious England.
“A lack of respect for God-given authority is what it is — an unnatural rebellion! Have we forgotten our loyalty! Have we forgotten our rich English heritage? Not this family. We shall remain loyal to our king until the end. God, save the king, and death to bad government. And taxes? Are we not to give back to the king for the wonderful goodness he has shown these colonies? I dare sat that a true English gentleman gives freely to the crown and does not complain. God forbid that we should rise up against the very king who has provided for us so richly. God save us from these traitors and rebels!”
Reverend Loring went on to tout how his grandfather had been invited to visit the king’s court many times and how fortunate this made their family. He paused and looked around the table at all of the nodding Lorings. His eyes stopped on Gabriel. The boy’s head held steady. Speaking to everyone but keeping his eyes on Gabriel, Reverend Loring said, “I am sure that Grandfather Loring — may he rest in peace — takes comfort in heaven to know that all people in the Loring house, young and old, are loyal to His Majesty the king.”
“Here, here,” cheered John Loring, the oldest of the sons. John raised his glass, offering a toast to the glories of the King and the Loring tradition. Everyone raised their glasses — everyone except Gabriel.
Now all the Lorings, with their glasses still in the air, fixed their eyes on Gabriel. “Uh-hum,” the reverend uttered, pretending to clear his throat and repeating his eldest son’s toast, “To the glories of the King and the Loring tradition.” Gabriel’s glass remained as firmly situated on the table as if it were nailed there.
Reverend Loring glared at Gabriel in disbelief. “Perhaps you did not hear me when I said that all people, young and old in the Loring house, are loyal to His Majesty, the king. Now, young Master Cooper, raise your glass.”
Gabriel’s face was stern and resolute. He glared back at Reverend Loring and spoke, “I will not drink to a tyrant!”
Everyone at the table gasped. Mrs. Loring slumped over in her chair, having fainted. Reverend Loring immediately rose and told one of his daughters to fan her mother and another to fetch the smelling salts.
Quickly reviving his wife, the reverend now turned his reddened face to Gabriel. “What did you call our good and noble King? I warn you to reconsider, choosing your words carefully,” said the seething reverend.
Gabriel sat silent for a minute and carefully considered his options. He could take back the insult he had made against the king and the Lorings, or he could repeat the word tyrant. If Gabriel recanted, he would still be punished, but he would be allowed to stay under the Loring’s roof. If he refused to take back his words, what then? Would he really be forced to leave? Would he be sent back out on the streets? How would he survive? Where would he go?
The Lorings sat in stunned silence. Gabriel looked at each of them, and time seemed to slow. As he scanned their faces, Gabriel saw John Loring mouth the word orphan. No sound came from John’s mouth, but Gabriel knew the word well. He would never belong here.
At that moment, something turned inside Gabriel. Like the ships he had seen in the river that drop sail and change course with the wind filling their sails, Gabriel would take a new course — a course away from this house.
Gabriel spoke without hesitation, “I called the King of England a tyrant.” He went on, “He is a mean, oppressive, and brutal ruler who thinks he is above the law and can do whatever he wishes. He is not worthy of obedience and certainly not worthy of a toast with my glass.”
With that, Mrs. Loring fainted again, this time falling all the way to the floor. While two daughters rushed to revive her, Reverend Loring pointed stiffly at the door and shouted, “Master Gabriel Cooper, pack up your belongings and leave this home! You have shamed this family before the eyes of God and our King. I will not tolerate such heathen and disrespectful behavior! You, child, have been spoiled by traitors, and I will not have you or your ruinous thoughts near my family!”
The entire Loring family stared in wide-eyed amazement, their cups having now been placed firmly back on the table. Gabriel left the room. Trying not to look back at the piercing stares, he climbed the stairs up to the bedroom corner.
Gabriel pried up the floorboard and began to gather his only possessions. He spread out the single blanket the Lorings had given him and laid out his treasures in the middle. When he picked up his mother’s ring and note, he paused for a moment, holding the prized items in his hand.
The ring was too big for Gabriel to wear, so he kept it in his pocket most of the time. The gold band held a beautiful blue jewel, along with a strange yellow symbol that looked like open flower petals. A few random letters and markings were carved on the side of the ring, but they made no sense to Gabriel. His mother had once told him the ring was a French family heirloom and the blue jewel was a sapphire. The ring was precious to Gabriel, not because of what it might be worth, but because it reminded him of
