A CAVALIER 
 
 OF VIRGINIA 
 
 G-E- THEODORE ROBERTA
 
 A CAVALIER OF VIRGINIA 
 
 UNIX* SOL CALIF; LIBRARY. LOS ANGELES
 
 WORKS OF 
 
 G. E. THEODORE ROBERTS 
 
 Jl Cavalier of Virginia . 
 Captain Love .... 
 {Brothers of "Pen/ . . 
 Hemming, the Adventurer 
 
 Comrades of the Trails 
 Vhe Tied Feathers . 
 Flying 'Plover 
 
 $1.50 
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 L. C. PAGE & COMPANY 
 
 New England Building, Boston, Mass.
 
 " FRANCIS DRURIE CAUTIONED HIS HEART NOT TO BE A 
 FOOL." (See page 66)
 
 A CAVALIER OF 
 VIRGINIA 
 
 A ROMANCE 
 
 Q. E. THEODORE ROBERTS 
 
 Author of " Brothers of 'Peril, " "Captain Love, " 
 "Hemming the Adventurer, " etc. 
 
 Illustrated by 
 
 LOUIS <D. COWING 
 
 BOSTON +> L. c <PAQE & 
 
 COMPANY <& MCDCCCCX
 
 Copyright, 1909 
 BY THE FRANK A. MUNSEY COMPANY 
 
 Copyright, 1910 
 BY L. C. PAGE & COMPANY 
 
 (INCORPORATED) 
 
 All rights reserved 
 
 First Impression, March, 1910 
 
 Eltctretyfied and Printed 6y 
 THE COLONIAL PRESS 
 C. ff. Simondt & Co., Boston, U.S.A.
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 XVI. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 XX. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 XXV. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 THE HOME-COMING i 
 
 THE BROTHERS 12 
 
 ISOBEL'S FUTURE 22 
 
 AN OFFER OF EMPLOYMENT .... 33 
 
 A STRANGE LETTER 42 
 
 THE BALL AT ADMIRAL'S PRIDE ... 53 
 
 A BREAKFAST VISIT 69 
 
 FRANCIS SAILS AWAY 81 
 
 AT THE CAT AND RAT 93 
 
 THE MAN WITH THE YELLOW FACE . . 106 
 IN WHICH A SPANISH GENTLEMAN ARRIVES 
 
 IN VIRGINIA 116 
 
 ISOBEL SAILS AWAY 133 
 
 ISOBEL'S DISCOVERY 150 
 
 FRANCIS DRURIE RETURNS TO BRISTOL . . 161 
 THREE GENTLEMEN FOLLOW AN ELUSIVE 
 
 QUEST 175 
 
 SOMETHING HEARD OF ALCAZARDO . . 188 
 
 THE BRAVE ADVENTURE A GOOD FIGHTER . 198 
 
 ISOBEL LEARNS HER UNCLE'S REAL NATURE 214 
 
 THE ICE-FLOE 228 
 
 DENIS ST. OVIDE DUVAL 243 
 
 THE BRAVE ADVENTURE SUNK . . . 254 
 
 UNSUSPECTED FATE 267 
 
 ISOBEL LOOKS FROM HER WINDOW . . 281 
 
 A PLEASANT TIME BEFORE BREAKFAST . 292 
 
 THE RISING 302 
 
 2132481
 
 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 PACK 
 
 " FRANCIS DRURIE CAUTIONED ms HEART NOT TO 
 
 BE A FOOL " (See page 66) . . . Frontispiece 
 
 " A CHANGE CAME TO FRANCIS DRURIE'S TANNED 
 
 FACE" 8 
 
 " AFTER TWENTY MINUTES OF THIS FRANTIC STRUGGLE 
 
 THERE WAS NOT A PIRATE LEFT" . . 2IO 
 
 " DUVAL'S DARK FACE WAS FLUSHED WITH ANGER " 257
 
 A 
 
 CAVALIER OF VIRGINIA 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 THE HOME-COMING 
 
 FOR the past six days since first regaining the 
 fringe of the settlements the little force had been 
 gradually disbanding. Woodsmen, trappers, pioneer 
 farmers, traders, millers, planters, and gentlemen of 
 rank and fortune singly or by twos and threes, 
 they had broken away and gone back to their homes 
 and private affairs. 
 
 For two months they had campaigned in that alluring 
 but menacing wilderness that lay, unfathomed, between 
 the cultivated lands and the unknown West. Now, 
 when the forest foliage was reddening under the frosts 
 of late October, and a healthy regard for the rifles of 
 the Virginian militia had been implanted in the shifty 
 hearts of two tribes of savages, they felt free to return 
 
 to their interrupted businesses and pleasures. 
 
 1
 
 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 At last, where Saddle Hill Trail branches off from 
 the king's highway, Master Francis Drurie and Captain 
 Simeon Hewett drew rein and shook hands. 
 " Good luck to you, Frank! " 
 "And to you, Sim God bless you!" 
 Then Hewett wheeled toward Saddle Hill, touched 
 spur to his thin nag, and lifted his hat. Drurie re- 
 turned the salute, and trotted eastward along the 
 highway. 
 
 And thus had six companies of Virginian riflemen 
 men hi homespun, buckskin, blue and gold, coonskin 
 caps and laced hats disbanded, without the sanction 
 of general orders, or any blaring of trumpets. These 
 were soldiers, not mummers. The rifle-work and the 
 sword-work were over for the season. Their duty 
 to their country was done for the time. God grant 
 them to find their families still intact, their cabins and 
 houses still standing, and their crops garnered in good 
 order! 
 
 Francis Drurie's coat of fine blue cloth was patched 
 and ripped and weather-stained. His hat was faded, 
 and the gold lace on it tarnished beyond reburnishing. 
 His saddle was black with wear and wet and sunburn. 
 On his legs he wore breeches of buckskin; and his 
 high boots of English leather had been replaced weeks 
 before by beaded moccasins and fringed leggings. He
 
 The Home-coming 
 
 carried a long flint-lock rifle slung across his shoulders, 
 pistols in his holsters, and a sword at his side. 
 
 His face was tanned to a red-brown as deep as an 
 Indian's; and from that savage- hued mask his blue 
 eyes shone out with startling brightness. His light 
 brown hair, where it lay on his neck unpowdered, and 
 tied with a narrow ribbon, was bleached by the sun to 
 the shade of ripe corn-husks. He was slender of figure, 
 and but little above the medium height of men of his 
 race; but he was well-muscled and well-featured, thin 
 and hard as a hound, and with courage in eyes and 
 brow to be read at a glance. For all his service-worn 
 equipment, and sixty days of campaigning, he sat 
 straight and rode lightly. 
 
 At a gap in a hedge barred with rails, Francis Drurie 
 dismounted. Here began a shaded path which he 
 knew; and by it he would ride, coolly and free of dust, 
 across the groves of Fairwood Manor and Admiral's 
 Pride, and into the arms of his family. He lowered 
 the rails, led his horse over and swung to the 
 saddle. 
 
 The narrow path was carpeted with short, thin 
 grass as soft as moss. The hoofs of his horse made no 
 sound. Suddenly across the still air, fragrant with 
 the breath of ripened leaves and mellow earth, and 
 cones purpling in the sun, lifted a voice, singing.
 
 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 Francis knew the voice; and these are the words of 
 the verse he heard: 
 
 " Time is old and life is brief 
 
 Then 'tis shame to prate of sorrow. 
 
 If to-day holds naught of grief, 
 Let the good God mind to-morrow. 
 
 Time is old, but Youth is strong ; 
 
 Life is brief, but Love is long." 
 
 Francis drew rein, smiling. The singing had ceased, 
 the sweet voice dropping to silence as suddenly as it 
 had sprung upon the drowsy air. He reflected for 
 a moment and then struck up the last verse of the 
 familiar song. 
 
 " Ride ye south and ride ye north 
 You'll be riding home to-morrow 
 
 Back from whence ye cantered forth 
 With your scars and weary sorrow. 
 
 Time is old and Death is strong ; 
 
 Life is brief, but Love is long." 
 
 A moment's silence followed the conclusion of the 
 young man's effort; then came a short, glad cry 
 stifled almost as soon as uttered from somewhere 
 down the woodland path. The tanned cheeks of the 
 campaigner flushed at the sound. He waited, tense 
 in the saddle. The horse began to fidget, knowing that
 
 The Home-coming 
 
 there was no ambush of painted savages to fear in the 
 woodlands of the manor. 
 
 Puzzled by the silence, and wondering abashed at 
 the note of that brief cry, Francis let the horse move 
 forward; then on second thought he sprang to the 
 ground, caught the reins up on one of the holsters, 
 and walked briskly ahead. The horse followed quietly. 
 
 In this manner they moved along for a considerable 
 distance, the young man expecting to catch sight of 
 the girl at every turn of the path, and at every turn 
 wondering more and more why she did not appear. 
 He increased his pace, and soon saw the gleam of a 
 white frock between the forest walls hi front. She was 
 moving away from him. 
 
 11 Isobel, Isobel! " he called, and broke into a run. 
 
 She did not turn until he was within a few yards of 
 her. Then she sprang aside, and faced him with 
 feigned amazement in her splendid eyes. There was 
 another emotion there which the amazement could 
 have hidden only from persons with as little experience 
 in such matters as young Drurie. 
 
 " Frank! " she cried. 
 
 Laughing, he tried to catch her in his arms; but 
 she slipped out of his embrace, and held him away 
 with one light hand. Her brow and cheeks were 
 bright with fleeting colour. Her eyes looked past him,
 
 6 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 dark as deep water, but bright as stars. Everything 
 about her was bright, and yet of a brightness that was 
 as tender as dimness as tender as the half-lights of 
 dusk and dawn. Though her eyes and hair were so 
 dark that they often looked black, her skin was of a 
 wonderful fairness. About her white neck gleamed a 
 thin gold chain, holding just below the tender hollow 
 of her throat a small gold cross set with pearls which 
 Francis had given her on a birthday several years ago. 
 
 "Have you dropped from the tree-tops?" she 
 asked. 
 
 Young Drurie did not answer immediately. He 
 stood with his arms hanging at his sides, his forehead 
 puckered ever so slightly, smiling, but with cross-lights 
 of puzzled inquiry in his blue eyes. 
 
 " From the tree-tops, if you like from thousands 
 and thousands of miles of tree-tops but it was 
 harder than dropping, as Jumper, here, could tell 
 you," he said. " But what tricks are you up to, Iso- 
 bel ? " he asked anxiously. " Why don't you laugh at 
 me? Why don't you kiss me? Why don't you make 
 fun of my shabby coat and brick-red face? You are 
 not natural, Isobel. I heard you singing a long time 
 ago and I sent a voice back to you. And you heard 
 it, I think. Then why did you turn around and run 
 straight away from me? That was not kind, Isobel."
 
 The Home-coming 
 
 She did not meet his steady regard. 
 
 " I did not run," she said. 
 
 He let that pass for the little it was worth. 
 
 " You were sorry when I went away. I thought 
 you would be glad when I got back," he said gravely. 
 
 " I am glad! " she cried. " You know I am glad! " 
 
 "It is not for me to presume to deny what you say, 
 dear; but you dp not behave as if you were very 
 glad," he returned gently. " You are changed, little 
 girl. I did not expect to find you changed in any way. 
 I have always thought that you would be as glad to 
 see me home again as you were sorry to see me go 
 away." 
 
 "When did you think about it?" she asked, mock 
 incredulity in her voice. " Do you expect me to believe 
 that you, a full-fledged soldier of Virginia, gave any 
 time to such foolish reflections? Be honest, Frank, 
 and tell me when you thought about whether I should 
 be glad or sorry to see you home again. I am sure it 
 was not when you were fighting with the savages, or 
 eating in their lodges, or riding through the forest with 
 your comrades." 
 
 The young man gazed at her in undisguised amaze- 
 ment. 
 
 " Why do you ask me such idiotic questions, Isobel ? " 
 he complained. " But I shall answer them, though I
 
 8 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 do not think them sincere. Honestly, then, I often 
 made pictures of our meeting hi my mind while we 
 marched, and when I lay hi my blankets at night ; and 
 ever since I parted with Hewett at the crossroads I've 
 been thinking how fine it would be to to 
 
 "To what?" she asked. 
 
 " To kiss you again," he said. 
 
 " Oh! " exclaimed the girl softly, her eyes intent on 
 his beaded moccasins. 
 
 " I really thought I was going to do it. My mind 
 was set on it," he ventured. 
 
 " And you didn't, after all." 
 
 " I don't kiss by force," he said, smiling forlornly. 
 
 " Frank," she said in a changed voice, " you must 
 realize now that we are no longer children." 
 
 " Children!" he cried in mild indignation. " Chil- 
 dren ! Who says we are children ? True, you are only 
 eighteen but I am twenty-two. Children don't 
 command companies of riflemen campaigning in the 
 wilderness." He laughed boyishly at his own big talk. 
 " But, in all seriousness," he added, " why have I not 
 as much right to kiss you, now that I am a man, as I 
 had when I was an unappreciative child ? " 
 
 " But you know that you have not," she replied 
 quietly. 
 
 A change came to Francis Drurie's tanned face.
 
 A CHANGE CAME TO FRANCIS DRURIE S TANNED FACE.
 
 The Home-coming 9 
 
 The whimsical light faded from his blue eyes, and his 
 lips straightened a little. " You are wiser than I am, 
 my dear Isobel," he said. " You realize my position 
 better than I do myself. It is evident that you have 
 given some thought to the matter. The elder sons 
 the heirs to the tobacco-fields and slaves are the 
 fortunate fellows who retain the privilege of kissing their 
 lady friends after arriving at the age of manhood. The 
 poor, unfortunate devils who have their own way to 
 make in the world must learn discretion all of a sudden. 
 I'd not thought of that, but I see the good sense of it 
 clear enough. I shall now kiss your hand, my dear, by 
 way of greeting between old playmates after an absence 
 of two months and then I'll let the argument drop. 
 May I venture? " 
 
 " No, you may not," she replied with spirit. " You 
 have spoken very unkindly. Because I ask you to 
 remember that we are no longer little children, you 
 instantly speak as if as if I do not care for you any 
 more because because you are not the heir to Ad- 
 miral's Pride. I do not care for Admiral's Pride! You 
 are very unkind." 
 
 " I beg your pardon most humbly, Isobel," said 
 Francis anxiously. " God knows I do not want to 
 think that! We've been the best of friends ever since 
 you came to Virginia, little girl; so why squabble just
 
 10 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 because you have suddenly become impressed by your 
 great age? That would be childish, certainly. I am 
 sorry that I have caused you any anxiety and still 
 more sorry that I have spoken unkindly. But if your 
 voice shakes again, dear, as it did just now, I'll kiss 
 you though they hang me for it." 
 
 Isobel looked swiftly into his eyes, and as swiftly 
 away again. Then, as if working for a wager, she 
 asked him questions about the wilderness, the savage 
 tribes, the fighting, the marching, and the wild animals 
 he had encountered. And while she questioned and 
 he answered they moved forward, side by side, with 
 the horse close at their heels. 
 
 The path was so narrow that his right hand presently 
 touched her left. In a second their fingers clasped and 
 held; and so they moved along, talking briskly, though 
 somewhat vaguely, and each pretending unconscious- 
 ness of what had happened. In the depths of the 
 woods they crossed a low stone wall that separated 
 Fairwood Manor from Admiral's Pride. 
 
 " Now, I must go back to the manor. I am spending 
 the day with Uncle Henry," said the girl. As she spoke 
 she gently withdrew her hand from the young man's. 
 He did not try to retain it. He made no sign of knowing 
 that his hand had been anywhere but in his own 
 pocket.
 
 The Home-coming 11 
 
 " And to-morrow? " he asked. 
 
 " I shall be at home to-morrow," she replied. 
 
 " Then I'll ride over in the morning," he said. " I 
 have some interesting specimens of picture-writing for 
 your father's collection." 
 
 He swung to the saddle, lifted his hat and let the 
 eager horse start off at a sharp trot. Where the path 
 broke through the underbrush into a wide avenue that 
 led up to the house of Admiral's Pride he turned and 
 glanced back. The girl was still standing where he had 
 left her, gazing down the green pathway. She blew a 
 kiss to him and vanished in a twinkling.
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 THE BROTHERS 
 
 IN those days there were not many finer estates in 
 Virginia than Admiral's Pride, and few finer residences 
 than Captain Paul Drurie's. The estate had been first 
 settled and cleared, and the house built by the captain's 
 father, old Rear-Admiral Drurie. The admiral, in 
 his day, had been a hero in the eyes and hearts of the 
 English public, and was affectionately known in every 
 ship of the navy as " Hot-Shot Bill." 
 
 In front of the house lay six acres of velvety lawn and 
 well-tended shrubberies. The park itself woodlands 
 of oak, walnut, and cedar covered one hundred 
 acres. The house, with its offices and lawns, kennels 
 and stables, occupied the centre of the park. Back of 
 this block of land were the negro quarters, the great 
 cattle-sheds, the windmill and tobacco-houses, and 
 hundreds of acres of meadow, pasture, and forest, 
 and the fields where the corn, tobacco, and sugar-cane 
 were raised. Yes, it was a fine home to which young 
 Master Francis Drurie rode back, in his shabby coat 
 
 12
 
 The Brothers 13 
 
 and Indian moccasins, astride his weather-blackened 
 saddle. 
 
 A couple of hound puppies were the first of the 
 household to catch sight of the horseman. They 
 charged across the lawns to meet him, yelping with 
 delight at the prospect of a little excitement. When 
 the man spoke to them, and they saw that the raw- 
 boned horse was no other than Jumper, their demon- 
 strations immediately took on a subdued note. 
 
 Next an old hound, gray of muzzle, and with one 
 eye like a clouded opal, got to his feet on the lower 
 gallery, sniffed the air inquiringly for a moment, and 
 then descended to the lawn at a dignified trot. This 
 was Bellringer, who had led the pack for seven years, 
 and for three had loafed about the galleries, honourably 
 retired from the field because of stiffening joints and 
 a thickening windpipe. At sight of him Francis 
 drew rein and dismounted. 
 
 The dog quickened his pace a little, and began to 
 twist his long tan- and- white body as the lad drew 
 near. He settled lower on his legs, drew back his gray 
 upper lip and displayed a couple of white fangs. From 
 deep in his rusty throat came a gurgling growl a 
 growl as expressive of welcome and joy and love as 
 any human cry. He lifted himself stiffly to his full 
 height and planted his front paws on the young man's
 
 14 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 breast; and, standing thus, he yelped with all his 
 strength. 
 
 It was old Bellringer's yelping that announced to 
 everybody in and about the house that the militiaman 
 was home again from the wilderness. The captain left 
 his book open on the study table and hobbled to 
 the lawn. The ancient butler who had been a 
 gunner's-mate aboard the captain's ship followed 
 close. Mrs. Drurie sped from her bedroom to the 
 rail of the upper gallery, looked eagerly about and, 
 with a little scream of delight, turned and fled back 
 again, down the great staircase and out to the lawn. 
 From the majestic old cook in her red-and-yellow 
 turban, to the youngest housemaid in spotless white 
 cotton and white headkerchief, all the black house serv- 
 ants appeared and formed a group behind the master, 
 the mistress, and the privileged old white butler. 
 
 Francis Drurie embraced and kissed his mother, 
 shook the captain's hand for a full minute all the 
 time the two grinned feelingly at each other without 
 a word and then gave a cordial grip to the old hero 
 who had descended comfortably from serving his guns 
 on the seas, under both Hot- Shot Bill and Captain Paul, 
 to serving soups and wines ashore. To the group behind 
 them he waved a hand, and called a good-natured 
 greeting.
 
 The Brothers 15 
 
 "Where is John?" he asked presently, looking 
 up at the house. 
 
 " John ? Why, John is shooting with Fairwood 
 to-day," replied the captain. 
 
 Mrs. Drurie smiled. 
 
 " I think he is not paying much attention to the 
 birds. Isobel is there, too," she said. 
 
 At that the captain turned squarely upon her. 
 
 " So that is what you have in your mind! " he 
 exclaimed amusedly. 
 
 " He is certainly paying much more attention to 
 her than he used to," replied the lady. 
 
 The campaigner gave a keen ear to this conversation, 
 but said not a word. As was usual with him, he 
 thought the more for saying nothing. 
 
 John Drurie and Mr. Fairwood appeared early in 
 the afternoon, for the news of the Indian fighter's 
 return from the wilds had sped over three plantations 
 with the despatch of the wind. John was honestly 
 pleased to see his brother safe and sound again; but 
 it looked as if Mr. Fairwood, of Fairwood Manor, was 
 even more pleased. 
 
 " I heard one of the plowboys yelling to another 
 across a forty-acre field that you had got home again," 
 he said. " There was a covey of partridges in the air, 
 right in front of my gun. Well, lad, I let them go.
 
 16 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 There's not a bird that flies would have tempted me to 
 wait and pull trigger. ' Frank's home,' I sang out 
 to John, and ran for the house, leaving my dogs in 
 the stubble. Yes, lad, I put my best foot foremost, 
 you may depend upon it. I knew old Gunner's-mate 
 Joskins would be mixing one of those three-decker 
 punches of his." 
 
 True for you, Mr. Fairwood Joskins had mixed 
 the punch! 
 
 Now is my time to speak of a punch that was more 
 famous, in its day, than many poets and warriors and 
 statesmen. Though one could drink good liquor at 
 Admiral's Pride at any hour of the twenty-four and 
 at any season of the year, it was only for special occa- 
 sions that the great punch was brewed. The Admiral 
 had invented it, and named it after his flag-ship. 
 Before his death, he had taught the secret of it to 
 Joskins. A few prigs called it the " Bellerophon " ; 
 but by the family, the intimate friends and the butler 
 it was frankly spoken of as the " Billy-rough-un." 
 Tradition had it that " Hot- Shot Bill" had won 
 promotion and recognition in high places by this 
 punch more than by his fighting and seamanship. 
 I have not a doubt that this is true for the navy 
 was full of exceptional fighters (so full that the Lords 
 of the Admiralty sometimes grew quite tired of hearing
 
 The Brothers 17 
 
 of their deeds of valour), but had only one punch that 
 was above criticism. The inventor had given the 
 receipt of the punch to his sovereign and, in return, 
 had been invited to dinner. This was the drink that 
 was mixed by the ex-gunner's mate Joskins, in honour 
 of Francis Drurie's return from campaigning in the 
 West. 
 
 But Francis was not in a mood to enjoy it fully. 
 He felt a restlessness that he could not account for 
 a restlessness of the mind rather than the body 
 and a depression of spirit equally unreasonable. 
 Fresh from a bath, clothed in the fine linen and un- 
 stained garments of prosperity, with the great punch 
 before him on the gleaming mahogany, and his father, 
 his brother, and Fairwood, of Fairwood Manor, near 
 him, yet he moved uneasily in his chair, and glanced 
 continually through the long window of the dining- 
 room into the garden where the gold of the sunlight 
 was deepening on stalk and leaf. 
 
 The talk seemed trivial to him, though it was the 
 talk of his class and his country of crops, dinners, 
 men, dogs, and horses subjects that had always 
 interested him keenly until the present moment. 
 Even the incidents of the campaign had dwindled to 
 insignificance in his eyes. In answer to the questions 
 of the men he told them of the skirmishing, the hard-
 
 18 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 ships, the fine shooting of the pioneers, the customs 
 of the tribes, and what-not; but he spoke without his 
 usual warmth a fact that was as noticeable to the 
 others as to himself. 
 
 " You are tired, lad," said the captain anxiously. 
 " You should turn in and sleep the clock around." 
 
 " No, sir, I don't feel tired," replied Francis. " I 
 have had plenty of sleep in the last week since we got 
 out of the dangerous country. We slept lightly before 
 that out of respect for our scalps. But I feel a trifle 
 restless, and that's a fact. It may be owing to the 
 sudden change from constant alertness and poor fare 
 to this sort of thing." He looked at the great silver 
 bowl. " Perhaps I have acquired the habit of work. 
 It may be that I miss the fatigue and excitement of the 
 life I have been living for the past two months." 
 
 " Cheer up, lad," said Mr. Fairwood. " You'll get 
 fatigue and excitement enough next week, for we hunt 
 the Dudley country on Monday, the Swan River 
 country on Wednesday, and Saddle Hill on Saturday." 
 
 "Good!" exclaimed Francis, for he was a keen 
 sportsman, and the best gentleman rider in the county, 
 either at flat-racing, cross-country, or steeple-chasing. 
 
 " But Jumper looks thin and unfit," said the cap- 
 tain. " He'll need a deal of graining before Monday." 
 
 " Don't hunt him for a fortnight, lad," advised
 
 The Brothers 19 
 
 Mr. Fairwood. " Let him rest, and take the pick of 
 my stud until he is fit for work again." 
 
 " But you offered me a mount, sir, until Snowball's 
 shoulder hardens," said John, smiling. 
 
 Mr. Fairwood turned a haughty glance in the 
 speaker's direction. He had gray eyes, easily warmed 
 to good nature or chilled to displeasure. He was 
 famous for saying what he felt. 
 
 " But ? " he questioned, in a voice of indignation. 
 " What d'ye mean, John, by saying ' but ' to me ? I 
 offered you a mount, sir, and you may be sure that the 
 offer still holds. Any friend of mine, or son of a friend, 
 or friend of a friend, is welcome to a horse from my 
 stables, or a bottle from my cellar, whenever he wants 
 it. But did I offer you the best ? No, John, I did not. 
 You will have to put up with the second best." 
 
 John was too thoroughly abashed to even try to 
 reply. Francis felt sorry for him, but could not help 
 thinking that an occasional facer of the kind would do 
 him no harm. John took it too much for granted that 
 the best of everything should be his. The captain 
 looked neither abashed, sorry, or amused. He refilled 
 Mr. Fairwood's glass from the half-pint ladle, then 
 looked fixedly at his elder son. 
 
 " How is it," he asked, " that Admiral's Pride is 
 so short of hunters?"
 
 20 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 "I I do not know, exactly," replied John. 
 
 " But you should know," retorted the captain. " I 
 put the stables in your charge six months ago. If you 
 cannot manage the stables alone, how will you ever 
 run the whole estate? John, I am deeply distressed. 
 Here we are and for the first time in the history of 
 Admiral's Pride, I'll wager short of horses at the 
 start of the hunting season." 
 
 Mr. Fairwood could not bear to hear any one taken 
 to task. He gulped his punch, stared round the room 
 with a swiftly melting eye, and at last focused his gaze 
 upon the captain. 
 
 " Come, Paul, you must not be so hard on the 
 youngster," he cried. " He is at the age when most 
 men are fools, anyway. All he thinks of now is dressing 
 himself up in fine clothes from London, but he may 
 outgrow that. He may make a fine, sensible man 
 some day, Heaven knows." 
 
 Captain Drurie roared with laughter. Francis 
 turned his head away, to hide a smile that he could not 
 keep from his face. John glared at Mr. Fairwood, 
 reckless with the sting of injured pride. 
 
 " Do you realize," cried the furious heir, " that you 
 are speaking of a man of twenty-five years of age 
 of a bachelor of Oxford University, sir; of a gentleman 
 and a scholar ? "
 
 The Brothers 
 
 Fairwood, who thought he had been figuring very 
 tactfully as a peacemaker, gaped at the young man 
 in pained astonishment. Fortunately the ridiculous 
 side of the affair struck him before his rage exploded, 
 and he joined the captain hi wide-throated laughter. 
 John sprang to his feet and marched from the room. 
 
 When his seniors had finished their laughter, Francis 
 said: " You were too sharp, Mr. Fairwood. He will 
 sulk for a week."
 
 CHAPTER III 
 ISOBEL'S FUTURE 
 
 BEFORE leaving the dining- table and the silver bowl 
 Francis won from Mr. Fairwood an acknowledgment 
 of the fact that John had not been treated fairly. 
 The captain took no part in the argument, but sat 
 far back in his chair, with his eyes turned to a 
 portrait of Hot -Shot Bill. It was a belief of his 
 that two are enough for any argument. As soon as 
 Mr. Fairwood had admitted that he really thought 
 very highly of John, and had not meant more than 
 half of what he had said, Francis excused himself 
 and left the room. 
 
 Francis found John up-stairs, hi a little room full 
 of books, sulking in the window-seat. 
 
 " John," said the campaigner, " Mr. Fairwood 
 wants you to know that he did not mean what he said 
 of you, and that he is sorry he said it. He has the 
 highest regard for your scholarship, John." 
 
 " Scholarship! " cried the other. " What is the use 
 of scholarship in this barbaric hole? Here a rifleman 
 
 22
 
 Isobel's Future 
 
 in a coon-skin cap is of more account than a poet; and 
 if a gentleman can stick to the back of a half-broken 
 colt he is looked upon as the possessor of a liberal 
 education. Horses and dogs, tobacco and rum, fighting 
 and sleeping Lord, there is not a man in the colony 
 capable of lifting his brain above these things!" 
 
 " Oh, come now, John, you are talking like an 
 idiot," said Francis, laughing good-naturedly. 
 
 " If I talk like an idiot, I am driven to it," replied 
 John. " Why was I sent to England and Europe for 
 my education if I am not to be allowed to continue the 
 life ? What do I care about the stables ? The grooms 
 can manage the feeding of the horses quite well without 
 my help. I have more important work to do; and, 
 by Heaven, I'll do it!" 
 
 "What is the work?" asked Francis. 
 
 " Why should I tell you? " retorted John. " There 
 is only one person in Virginia who cares the snap of a 
 finger about my work." 
 
 " Who is that ? " asked Francis. 
 
 " Isobel," replied the elder brother, without a 
 moment's hesitation, and looking at Francis, as if he 
 expected some indication of special interest. 
 
 " You are fortunate," said the other indifferently. 
 And then: "I should like to know what it is that 
 interests Isobel."
 
 24 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 " A history of Rome." 
 
 "Rome?" 
 
 " Yes, and in verse." 
 
 Francis was honestly astonished. He had never 
 suspected John of the staying power to attempt so 
 monumental a work as a history of any kind, either in 
 verse or prose. Of course he had often heard the 
 other speak of his work, but had never seen anything 
 of it except a few dismal lyrics. 
 
 "Is it done ? " he asked, in an awestruck voice. 
 
 John was disgusted with the question. 
 
 " This sort of thing is not done hi two months," he 
 replied superciliously. " It is rather more difficult 
 than a campaign against a handful of savages." 
 
 " And will, no doubt, be responsible for more 
 deaths," retorted Francis, as he hastened from the 
 room. He had never, in all his life, found John in 
 quite such a beastly humour. 
 
 Next morning, shortly after breakfast, Francis 
 Drurie set out on foot to call on Mr. Richard Dariza, 
 Isobel's father. The Dariza place was named Hope- 
 land, and lay just the other side of Fairwood Manor. 
 It was a small estate, with a small, new house upon it, 
 and had once been a part of the manor. Francis 
 carried a parcel, in which were a number of examples 
 of Indian picture-writing for Mr. Dariza and a necklace
 
 Isobel's Future 25 
 
 of strange gems for Isobel. He crossed the Fairwood 
 lands without attracting the attention of any one at 
 the house to have done so would have meant delay 
 and a second breakfast and arrived at the Dariza 
 place just as the master himself stepped from the 
 breakfast-room to the gallery. 
 
 Richard Dariza was a Spaniard by birth. Years 
 ago, in his native land, he had been well known in high 
 places as the Senor Ricardo Alcazardo da Riza. There 
 had been trouble of a family and political nature, and 
 Da Riza had Anglicized his name and turned his back 
 for ever on his own country. A year or two later he 
 married Miss Fairwood, of Virginia. This happened 
 hi London, and for twelve years they made their home 
 in England. Two children were born to them the 
 first a boy, the second a girl. 
 
 When Isobel was in her fifth year the mother fell 
 very ill. This was in midwinter. Dariza was almost 
 crazed with terror, and immediately removed his 
 family to the south of France. There Mistress Dariza 
 recovered something of her strength, but she talked 
 continually of her home in Virginia, and grieved for it. 
 As soon as the doctors said that she was strong enough 
 to undertake a sea- voyage her husband engaged passage 
 for his family from Bristol to the great colony. The 
 voyage was made in safety, but within a month of their
 
 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 arrival, at the home of her people. Mistress Dariza 
 died. 
 
 Another great blow awaited the unfortunate Spaniard. 
 It fell some ten years later when his son, Richard 
 Fairwood St. George Dariza, a young lieutenant in 
 the navy, quarrelled with a senior officer, killed him in 
 fair fight, and vanished as completely from the knowl- 
 edge of the Admiralty and his family as if he had 
 descended into his grave. 
 
 Dariza's thin face and dark eyes lighted with pleasure 
 at sight of young Drurie. He hastened across the 
 gallery and down the steps, and caught his visitor's 
 hand in both of his. 
 
 " To see you again is like wine to my tired spirit," 
 he said. 
 
 Francis flushed with pleasure at the greeting. Such 
 words, from his father or Mr. Fairwood, would have 
 sounded foolish and stilted, but from the master of 
 Hopeland they were natural and sincere. He returned 
 the pressure of the other's thin hands. Dariza led the 
 way back to the breakfast-room. He looked more 
 like a man of eighty than fifty-five. Tall and of frail 
 build, his two great griefs had bent him, body and 
 spirit, and thinned his blood like a fever. And he 
 had a way, recently acquired, of turning his head 
 suddenly and lifting a furtive hand to his eyes. Some-
 
 Isobel's Future 27 
 
 times he would smile to himself, very tenderly and 
 longingly, and that was more pitiful to see than 
 tears. 
 
 Francis refused a second breakfast, but accepted 
 his host's offer of coffee and tobacco. Isobel soon 
 entered the room, and spoke to Francis hi subdued 
 voice and with a fleeting glance. He had already 
 given the sheets of bark and skin containing the picture- 
 writing to Dariza, and now he extended the Indian 
 necklace to the girl. 
 
 " Here is a little gift that I have brought out of the 
 wilderness to you, Isobel," he said. " I was told that 
 it once belonged to an Indian princess." 
 
 Isobel flushed and hesitated. 
 
 " It is very valuable," she said, and glanced appeal- 
 ingly at her father. 
 
 " Take it, dear," said Dariza. " You need have no 
 scruples about accepting any gift from Francis Drurie." 
 
 Both knew what he meant, for of late he had often 
 spoken of the place that Francis had taken in his 
 affections since the loss of his son. ' 
 
 Drurie fastened the splendid, glowing thing about 
 the girl's neck. His hands trembled as he did it, and 
 a mad desire to stoop and touch his lips to the white 
 flesh beneath his fingers went through him like fire. 
 But instead of that he said, in a level voice: " It has
 
 28 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 a difficult catch, but I think I have fastened it prop- 
 erly." 
 
 Soon afterward Isobel left the room. The two men 
 sat silent for a long time, sipping their coffee and 
 smoking their silver tobacco-pipes. Clay, as material 
 for pipes, was not yet popular with the gentry, either 
 in England or the colonies. 
 
 " Francis," said Dariza at last. " I feel that I am 
 not much longer for this world." 
 
 Drurie looked at him in consternation. 
 
 " It is so," continued the other. " No skill of ours 
 can alter it the message is in my heart. I am an old 
 man not in years, but in life and the taste for 
 earthly pleasures is dead in me. I think that I shall 
 never again see the tobacco harvested from these 
 fields." 
 
 He paused and smiled gently at his friend. Francis 
 paled a little, and breathed quickly, but could find no 
 word to say. 
 
 " Do not pity me for feeling the approach of death," 
 continued Dariza. " That which seems horrible to 
 you, with youth and courage and love your servants, 
 is a thing sweet to me. Death, I take it, is no more 
 than a change of habitation and a widening of vision; 
 a change from this narrow, grief-stricken house to a 
 place where the eyes of love shall brighten, never
 
 Isobel's Future 29 
 
 again to dim with suffering; to a home that shelters 
 no dread of disruption. There my dearest friend 
 awaits me the woman I love in that bright house 
 where neither pain nor misunderstanding may enter." 
 
 He leaned forward, his arms upon the table, and 
 his bright, dark eyes holding the younger man's fas- 
 cinated gaze. 
 
 " I do not speak as a poet or a dreamer," he said, 
 " but as a man who has lived and suffered, and taken 
 joy of the world, and read men and books, and sifted 
 the teachings of the churches, without fear or prejudice, 
 as food for my needs. So I am ready to go joyfully 
 save for one fear one regret." 
 
 Drurie tried to ask the question. 
 
 " It is this," went on Dariza. " My boy may still 
 live, disgraced, suffering, and unbefriended." 
 
 There was such agony in the old man's eyes that 
 Francis turned away. 
 
 " I have none of this fear at thought of leaving 
 Isobel," said Dariza. " She is with relatives and 
 friends, sheltered and loved. But my boy! God, if it is 
 that he lives, and is hi need of trust and tenderness, 
 and should come home some day and find me gone! " 
 
 "Do you think he may be be alive?" asked 
 Francis, scarce above a whisper. " If so, sir, how is it 
 that he has not come home before this ? " His voice
 
 30 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 grew surer. " In good fortune or evil, Dick Dariza 
 will never lack a friend so long as I draw breath." 
 
 " Noble heart," said the old man. He extended a 
 thin hand, and clutched Drurie's wrist. " My heart 
 aches with the doubt of his fate," he whispered. " How 
 gladly should I welcome the sure news of his safety in 
 death. If he lives, the life of the outcast is his. Dear 
 God, why did I let him from my sight ? " 
 
 He hid his face in his hands and wept silently. 
 Francis, unspeakably embarrassed, did his best to 
 comfort him. He laid a timid hand on the thin, quaking 
 shoulders. 
 
 " Do not fret, sir," he murmured. " If Dick is 
 dead you may be sure that he died like a gentleman, for 
 all this talk of his crime of killing a superior. If he 
 lives, then if ever I hear of him I shall find him, though 
 the search lead me to the ends of the earth. And hi 
 whatever position I find him high or low, rich or 
 poor, in bondage or in power I shall claim him as 
 my friend, and serve him with all my heart and 
 strength." 
 
 At last the stricken old man grew calm, and looked 
 his young friend fairly in the face again. 
 
 " I had no right to show you my sorrow," he said. 
 He gazed through the long windows and across the 
 sunlit lawns to the rounded woods of his brother-in-
 
 Isobel's Future 31 
 
 law's park. " For Isobel's future I do not worry," he 
 said. " She is sheltered, and the world is on her side. 
 Henry Fairwood will be her guardian when I am gone. 
 He loves her as if she were his own daughter. But I 
 do not think his guardianship will last long. That a 
 younger man will soon take his charge from him I have 
 not a doubt." 
 
 Young Drurie's blood drummed in his ears, and he 
 felt his cheeks tingling. What was Dariza going to 
 say, he wondered? A sweet hope flooded his brain 
 and heart like music. But the old man did not look 
 at him. Quite unconscious of the young man's emo- 
 tion, he said: 
 
 " John is a good fellow. For myself I like men of a 
 more adventurous spirit; but the other kind makes the 
 more comfortable husband. Yes, John is a safe man; 
 and if a young lady takes a fancy to him I consider it 
 a safe fancy. If he does not catch my eye as some 
 others do the fault is mine; for, a man of books and 
 reveries myself, my taste is all for men of action. I 
 saw a deal of sword-iron and smoke when I was a young 
 man, and books have seemed a limp and sapless 
 enterprise to me, in spite of my honest application to 
 them. The reading of love-passages will never take the 
 place of kissing; and even so, when I follow the turns 
 and chances of armed conflict, up and down printed
 
 32 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 pages, some smoke from my own youth and a veil of 
 blood of my own spilling crawl between my vision and 
 the book. Then I see the truth the worth of the 
 reality and the worth of the shadow." 
 
 Francis murmured a polite assent to the old gentle- 
 man's words. Had they been spoken hi Dutch he 
 would have done the same, for not a phrase had he 
 heard after the reference to John. So that was settled, 
 was it? Isobel loved John! That explained her 
 unusual quiet and her objection to being kissed.
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 AN OFFER OF EMPLOYMENT 
 
 FRANCIS had not been home long when a letter 
 arrived for the captain, from Bristol, in the care of 
 Stephen Todd, master of the good ship Merryweather. 
 It was from a wealthy baronet, who had been a ship- 
 mate of the captain's in the old days; and the heart 
 of it was the offer to Francis of a berth with an expedi- 
 tion bound for Hudson's Bay. It was quite evident 
 that the captain had been corresponding with his old 
 friend, and had not failed to state his younger son's 
 qualifications for any adventurous work on sea or 
 land. 
 
 The expedition was to sail from Bristol in May of 
 the next year. It was a venture of the Royal Com- 
 pany of London and Bristol Adventurers, designed to 
 establish a settlement in the wilderness of the far 
 north and open up a trade in furs and precious metals 
 with the natives of that little-known land. The French 
 were already at work there, but all the world knew 
 that it was English territory. The expedition would
 
 34 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 consist of four vessels at least, all armed like pirates, 
 and each carrying two commanding officers the 
 military commander and the sailing-master, or navi- 
 gator. Francis would be given the military command of 
 one of the vessels. 
 
 The baronet went on to say that there was nothing 
 unsound about the venture; that he himself had taken 
 shares in it to the cost of five thousand pounds, and 
 expected a return of at least fifty per cent, profit. In 
 all sincerity he advised his old brother-in-arms to 
 invest at least a thousand in it. He would reserve 
 shares to that amount, on the chance. 
 
 This letter put even the hunting in a second place 
 with the people of the three estates. Francis accepted 
 the offer upon the moment of hearing it, but his rela- 
 tives and friends fell into argument, the smoke and 
 dust of which did not settle for a month. When they 
 talked to Francis one would think that their lives, not 
 his life, were to be risked. When they spoke to the 
 captain one would think that their money, not his, was 
 to be cast upon the waters. By the way they talked it 
 over among themselves one would think that some 
 crime was contemplated by the captain and Francis. 
 
 Only Mr. Dariza and Joskins were in sympathy with 
 the adventurers. Mr. Dariza explained, at great length, 
 that an expedition of this kind was a greater thing
 
 An Offer of Employment 35 
 
 than any crop of tobacco that had ever been raised 
 and sold in Virginia. 
 
 " If our fathers had all sat at home," said he, " who 
 would now be taking their ease in Admiral's Pride and 
 Fair wood Manor?" 
 
 As for the old ex-gunner's-mate, Joskins, why, he 
 was in two minds about whether or not he should join 
 the expedition himself. 
 
 " I'd do it, beyond a doubt, if it wasn't that I be 
 well-nigh seventy-five year old and so infernal totterish 
 in the legs. Aye, Master Frank, there be no life hi the 
 whole wide world equal in sport and eddication to 
 burnin' powder and makin' new landfalls. Ye'll be 
 sightin' pirates and Frenchmen, I take it." 
 
 John's objections to his brother's joining the expedi- 
 ion were half-hearted; but his argument against the 
 investment of a thousand pounds in the stock of the 
 Royal Company of London and Bristol Adventurers 
 was sincere enough, and became in time far too per- 
 sistent to suit the captain. Master John was told to 
 mind his own business. 
 
 At last it became an accepted fact that Francis 
 should set sail for England in about seven months' 
 time, with his father's investment in his pocket, and in 
 Bristol take command of his ship and up-anchor for 
 the desolate seas of the north. When every member of
 
 36 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 the household was convinced of this the captain said: 
 " And now we'll hear no more about it at the dinner- 
 table." So that was the end of it as a subject of general 
 argument and ill nature. But in the quiet of her own 
 room Mrs. Drurie was already knitting stockings of 
 amazing thickness for her baby to wear in the chilly 
 north. 
 
 Francis was overjoyed at the prospect of so good a 
 berth with so enterprising an expedition. The love 
 of the sea was in his blood; and, though he had won 
 his spurs in the forests of the West, with inland planters 
 and pioneer riflemen beside him and painted savages 
 in front, it was his intention to win fame as a sea 
 fighter and to try his hand as soon as possible at a 
 ship-load of Frenchmen. 
 
 He saw in this offer of the baronet's the initial step 
 to a whole life full of adventure and glory. From dis- 
 tinguishing himself as the military commander of one 
 of the company's ships, he would go on to a commission 
 hi the royal navy. He had an idea that some day the 
 picture of another admiral would hang in the dining- 
 room of Admiral's Pride. But as surely as he was satis- 
 fied with his worldly prospects, just as surely was he 
 dissatisfied with the present state and future promise 
 of something that lay though he would not admit 
 it still closer to his heart.
 
 37 
 
 Mr. Dariza's plan for Isobel's future did not suit 
 him at all. Isobel's attitude suited him still less. 
 Before, ever since their very first meeting, she had always 
 treated him as her dearest friend. He could find 
 neither comfort nor reason in this transferring of 
 affection from himself to his brother John. It was 
 unjust. If he had been to Isobel's taste when she was 
 seventeen years of age, why was he not still to her taste ? 
 In what way had he changed between his departure 
 for the West and his return? What had he done to 
 lose first place in her affections? 
 
 And what, in the name of all the devils, had John 
 done to gain it ? When Isobel's kisses had meant little 
 to Francis, they had been his for the asking. Before 
 that again, when they had been a decided embarrass- 
 ment, he had not been able to avoid them. And now 
 that he wanted to kiss her when, to tell the truth, 
 he could think of nothing that he wanted to do quite 
 so much she would not let him. 
 
 Labouring under the absurd belief that he knew 
 the ways of women as well as he knew the science of 
 savage warfare and the anatomy of a horse, he decided 
 that Isobel Dariza was mercenary and that her 
 father was mercenary and that all the blessings of 
 life, save hard knocks, were reserved for elder sons. 
 He came to this conclusion without heat, reasoning
 
 38 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 coolly, according to his knowledge of women and the 
 world. 
 
 Isobel made two attempts to discuss the prospective 
 voyage with Francis; but his reserve was such that 
 she did not again refer to the subject until months 
 afterward. 
 
 A small seaport town lay within ten miles of Ad- 
 miral's Pride. There were coasting- schooners, flat- 
 boats from up the river, and now and then a vessel 
 from the deep sea. The whole town smacked of foreign 
 lands and brisk adventure. There was a wharf, and 
 there were old sailors in their cottages and salty fellows 
 drinking in the tavern. Here was the square in which 
 the cargoes of Africans were sold to the planters, and 
 here were long storehouses in which bales and hogs- 
 heads of tobacco were stowed, awaiting their places in 
 the holds of east-bound ships. 
 
 To this place, as the winter progressed, Francis 
 Drurie paid frequent visits, riding over on Jumper at 
 the expense of good hunting. It was like standing on 
 the threshold of a room in which he knew that he was 
 soon to do great deeds; or, more aptly, on the porch of 
 a vast house full of persons and chambers as yet un- 
 known to him, yet among whom he was to make 
 friends and foes and live out his life. 
 
 Some such thought came to Francis, and held his
 
 An Offer of Employment 39 
 
 fancy. It amused him to consider the old, retired shell- 
 backs in their cottages as actors who, no longer active 
 enough to take their parts in the great " doings " within, 
 had been firmly but kindly pushed from the bright and 
 animated rooms to the shadowy porch. It seemed to 
 him that they always sat with a sidewise tilt of the 
 head, listening. And he knew that it was for some echo 
 of old things that they listened, rather than for any 
 voice from the dusky future. 
 
 He became a regular visitor at two or three of the 
 cottages, cheering the old sailors' hearts and freeing 
 their tongues and memories with good liquor and 
 tobacco, and listening to valiant tales of the sea for 
 hours on end. Also, he paid visits to the harbour-side 
 tavern whenever a seagoing craft of any kind was in; 
 and there he listened to the talk of active, though 
 humble, players of the great game who had, as it were, 
 but stepped out to the porch for a mouthful of fresh 
 air. 
 
 One bright, keen morning in December, John and 
 Francis rode together to King's Haven. Relations 
 between these two had been somewhat strained ever 
 since the first word of the Bristol expedition. Sharp 
 things had been said by both; but John had uncovered 
 a mean stripe in his character that was harder to 
 forget than any number of angry words. Heir to a
 
 40 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 great estate, he had objected to the risking of a thou- 
 sand pounds for the advancing of his brother's in- 
 terests. 
 
 Of late he had begun to see what a poor figure he 
 had cut in that affair. It required no great power of 
 imagination to know what Francis felt about it; so, 
 for the past fortnight, John had been working hard to 
 reestablish himself in his brother's good opinion. It 
 was slow work, however; for Francis, hurt and de- 
 pressed to a greater extent than he himself knew, over 
 the affair about which he must keep silence, made no 
 effort to forget or forgive the injustice of this other 
 matter. True, the money was to be risked ; but John's 
 fault was the same, for all that. 
 
 During the ride the talk was half-hearted and 
 scanty. Upon reaching the top of the hill overlooking 
 the harbour, the brothers saw a small brig lying at 
 the wharf. The common-room of the tavern was 
 crowded with sailors, longshoremen, and townsmen. 
 
 In the inner room, to which the gentlemen from 
 Admiral's Pride were led, sat an old fellow with a head 
 like a druid's, and a body like a cask. His frosted 
 beard lay like a cascade on his breast, and his mous- 
 taches flared from his cheeks like wings. His face was 
 brown, his eyes were small, and gray as ice. He was 
 dressed in weather-beaten blue, with sea-boots reaching
 
 An Offer of Employment 41 
 
 half-way up his thighs. His right hand, clinched on 
 the table beside his glass of hot rum, looked like the 
 knob of some curious club. 
 
 " Good morning to you," said Francis pleasantly. 
 
 The old fellow stared offensively for a moment; 
 then, without a word, he lifted the glass to his gusty 
 moustache and drained it to the lump of sugar in the 
 bottom. John flushed red with indignation. 
 
 Francis laughed good-naturedly. 
 
 " Your manners are not of the best, shipmaster," 
 said he. 
 
 At that the mariner thumped on the table with his 
 great fist and bellowed for the landlord to lay aft.
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 A STRANGE LETTER 
 
 MINE host opened the door and thrust his head 
 cautiously around the edge of it. 
 
 " Brown," said Francis, " bring me a fair-sized 
 bowl, a bottle of Barbados rum, a pint of French 
 brandy, a pint of sherry, red bitters, two lemons, four 
 limes, spice, sugar, and boiling water. I am going to 
 try my hand at mixing a ' Billy-rough-un ' punch." 
 
 " Steady there, cook! Bring me another of these 
 here buckets o' honest Jamaica stuff," roared the 
 mariner. 
 
 " But I want you to try my punch," said Fran- 
 cis. 
 
 " The deuce take your punch," replied the mariner. 
 
 John was for leaving the room; but Francis gave 
 him to understand that there was sport afoot, and 
 coaxed him into a chair beside the hearth. He drew 
 his own chair up to the table. 
 
 " I see that you are a regular old heart of oak," he 
 said. 
 
 42
 
 A Strange Letter 43 
 
 The mariner glared like a wild beast at bay. 
 
 " I am proud to meet such an honest, outspoken, 
 rough-weather lump of a son of Neptune," continued 
 Francis. " It is men like you who strike fear into the 
 hearts of the Frenchmen, for they are polite people. 
 You have no more manners than a hog, sir. That's 
 the kind I like, for rough and dangerous work. You 
 smell of rum and bilge-water. You fear nobody. 
 You are the kind of man I like to think of as con- 
 tinually risking a deep-sea grave." 
 
 John sat very quiet in his chair. The mariner 
 stared at Francis with more of amazement and less of 
 sulkiness on his bewhiskered face. He had never been 
 talked to like that before. What was the youngster 
 driving at ? He was grinning in very friendly fashion, 
 anyway. The old fellow grunted uncertainly. 
 
 "That's better," said Francis. "I knew the 
 moment I laid eyes on you that you were a sociable 
 fellow at heart. Sociable, but reserved. That's the 
 kind for my fancy. I love these bluff, gruff, ill-man- 
 nered old dogs that suspect every one who speaks 
 to them politely of designs on their throats and 
 purses. They are the men who make England's 
 strength." 
 
 " Be ye drunk ? " asked the mariner, with a dawning 
 light of interest in his eyes.
 
 44 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 " Most assuredly not. Do I look it ? " returned 
 Francis gravely. That was a shot, right enough. He 
 heard John chuckle. 
 
 " Oh, ye look right, aloft and alow! but ye may 
 name me for a cobbler if ever I heard such fool talk 
 afore in all my life," replied the other. He turned 
 toward John. " Would ye say now that this young man 
 be pokin' fun at me? " he asked. 
 
 Francis answered for himself. 
 
 " There was a deal of truth in what I said, and it 
 was meant more seriously than it sounded," he said in 
 a friendly voice and with an engaging smile. 
 
 " It sounded danged queer to me," grumbled the 
 mariner. 
 
 " Well, however that may be, we'll shake hands on 
 it," said Francis. Quick as the words, his hand was 
 up in the air, close under the whiskers of the bewil- 
 dered, sulky, half-awakened old salt. His bright, 
 whimsical gaze shot a command into the depths of 
 that clouded brain that could not be resisted. The 
 old fellow glared and snorted with uncertainty for 
 half a minute; then the big, gnarled, root-like paw 
 opened, lifted from the table, and enclosed the hand 
 of the young soldier. 
 
 At that moment Brown entered with the materials 
 for the making of the punch. He gasped and gaped
 
 A Strange Letter 45 
 
 at the picture made by Master Francis Drurie and the 
 unsavoury mariner. 
 
 " Stir your stumps, cook ! " growled the man of the sea. 
 
 The tavern-keeper recovered from his amazement 
 and swiftly rid himself of his burden. He deposited 
 bottles and bundles on the table, stood the kettle 
 of boiling water on the hob, and finally placed a glass 
 of rum and water at the mariner's elbow. It was a 
 wonder how he had carried them all. The old fellow, 
 instead of complimenting him on his dexterity, scowled 
 furiously. 
 
 " Take it away," he shouted. " Can't ye see, 
 ye fish-eyed son o' a swab, as how I be a goin* to join 
 this gentleman hi a glass o' decent licker ? " 
 
 " But " began Brown in a voice of righteous 
 indignation. The mariner interrupted him with an 
 oath and, snatching up the glass of rum and water 
 with a swiftness of which one would not have thought 
 the big fist capable, let it fly. Mr. Brown dodged. 
 The glass and its contents splintered and splashed 
 against the wall. Mr. Brown slipped from the room 
 without excusing himself. 
 
 Neither of the gentlemen made any comment on 
 this remarkable exhibition of table- manners. The 
 throwing about of dishes, liquors, and glassware was 
 not entirely unknown even in the best- regulated
 
 46 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 households. But it seemed to be the last bubble of the 
 old man's internal boiling. He leaned back in his chair 
 and smiled! Then, with eyes and ears alert and 
 a benevolent relaxing of the jaws, he followed the 
 mixing of the punch. 
 
 Francis made the punch, with constant hints from 
 John. Neither was quite sure as. to quantities, for 
 Joskins had not yet taken them in hand; but, as they 
 knew that they had not forgotten any of the materials, 
 they hoped for the best. As the mixing progressed, 
 the mariner's interest grew and grew. 
 
 " I never did see so many good lickers and fixin's 
 go into one brew," said he. 
 
 Presently he began to sniff, and drew his chair 
 closer to the bowl. 
 
 It was done. Three glasses were filled. Three 
 glasses were raised and tasted. Never had a finer 
 " Billy-rough-un " been brewed even by the hand of the 
 ex-gunner's-mate. After the second round, John ad- 
 dressed himself to the shipmaster. He told him the 
 history of the great punch. 
 
 The old fellow was impressed. 
 
 " An admiral," he said. " An admiral o' the navy. 
 Well, I be danged ! I were oncet hi the navy meself 
 bosun's-mate. 'Twas hi the navy I Parned me man- 
 ners. I's never forgot 'em, neither."
 
 A Strange Letter 47 
 
 He told them many stories of his adventurous 
 career, and all the details of his last voyage. His 
 ship was the Golden Crown. He had sailed from 
 London thirty-five days before. Yes, he had felt that 
 it was his last voyage. The pumps had been kept 
 working, day and night, from the tenth morning out 
 until they got into the harbour. 
 
 The bowl was empty. As Francis shook hands 
 with the master of the Golden Crown, he felt 
 something like a folded paper pressed against his 
 palm. 
 
 " Mum's the word, matey," whispered the salt, 
 flashing his eyes at John's elegant back in the 
 doorway. " Figger it out on the quiet. It be a letter 
 for ye, matey, as sure as if your name was writ all 
 over it." 
 
 Francis nodded and slipped the thing craftily into 
 his pocket. 
 
 " How long will you lie in King's Haven? I want 
 to have another talk with you before you sail away," 
 he said. 
 
 " I'll lay here till I calk me seams and overhaul 
 me tops and get a cargo aye, and drink another 
 o' them broadside punches," replied the mariner, 
 smiling like the best-natured soul in the world. 
 
 The punch had thawed John as well as the ship-
 
 48 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 master. He was not accustomed to potations of such 
 length and strength so early in the morning. No 
 sooner were the two gentlemen in the saddle than 
 John said: 
 
 " Frank, you have a way with you, and no mistake. 
 That old rogue was no better than a pirate when we first 
 set eyes on him, but he was mild as new butter when 
 we left. I could never have dealt so with the old 
 rascal. He'd have cracked my head for me at the 
 first word. When you are sailing the seas, you'll 
 have to play such tricks every day. You'll find these 
 old pitch-eaters brisk lads to keep in hand." 
 
 Francis laughed. 
 
 " Oh, with that punch, one could come around the 
 devil himself! " he said. 
 
 John laughed as if a very good joke had been 
 cracked. His usual deportment was uncommonly 
 sedate for one of his age; but now he rode high in his 
 stirrups, bumping and swaying, and beaming to right 
 and left. 
 
 " You'll make a great sailor, Frank," he cried. " I 
 envy you your career, rip me if I don't! A man can 
 win a fine name at that sort of work and a fortune 
 too, like as not. It is not the highest type of mind 
 maybe this galloping, slashing, shooting, sailing 
 type but 'twill do, lad 'twill do. And you come
 
 A Strange Letter 49 
 
 honestly by it, Frank. There were a dozen of such 
 among our ancestors. I am the first poet of the family. 
 But it's little credit I get for that." 
 
 " But you say that Isobel likes your verses so, 
 why do you complain?" said Francis. You must 
 not imagine from this that the punch had befuddled the 
 soldier's wits at all. 
 
 " True true," said John. " That is something, to 
 to be sure. She has a very superior mind, has Isobel. 
 She is a fine girl." 
 
 It came to Francis that he might just as well have 
 the little pang over with now as later. He did not want 
 people to think him a dog in the manger, as the saying 
 is. 
 
 " Yes, she is a fine girl," he said. " If I were a 
 poet, I'd put it stronger than that. And you are a 
 lucky man, John." 
 
 He leaned sideways in his saddle and held out his 
 hand to his brother. For the fraction of a second John 
 looked surprised. Then, flushing a little, he extended 
 his hand and pressed that of Francis swiftly and 
 strongly. 
 
 John had accepted his congratulations! Well, 
 there could be no question about it now. The most 
 lively hope in the world could not keep a-wing against 
 such odds. Francis's heart gave him a shrewd twinge,
 
 50 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 and then felt as empty and insecure as a bubble. It 
 was worse than he had expected. 
 
 For a mile or so they rode along without a word. 
 John did not feel comfortable. He knew that he had 
 no right to accept his brother's congratulations; for, 
 though Mr. Dariza had made no objections to his suit, 
 Isobel had rejected him twice. He told himself that 
 he would not purposely have deceived his brother. 
 He had been taken unawares. Frank had made his 
 little speech, and stuck out his hand so suddenly 
 that he had not had time to think. And the punch 
 had flustered him a trifle. In fact, it was all Frank's 
 fault he had made the punch. 
 
 But what did it matter, anyway? Isobel was sure 
 to say " Yes " before long. Oh, there was not a doubt 
 of it! She had not been able to give any reason for 
 rejecting him. For that matter, what possible reason 
 could she give ? In spite of her superior mind, she was 
 full of childish whims. Feeling sure of him, it flattered 
 her pride to refuse him. John was full of such con- 
 vincing arguments like these but, for all that, he did 
 not feel quite at his ease. 
 
 The uncomfortable silence soon wore itself out, 
 and for the remainder of the journey the two brothers 
 talked together hi friendly vein of all manner of unim- 
 portant things.
 
 A Strange Letter 51 
 
 When Francis reached home and the quiet of his 
 own room, he drew from his pocket the thing which the 
 old shipmaster had pressed so secretly into his palm. 
 What joke was the fellow trying to play on him? he 
 wondered. Here was a sheet of paper, folded and re- 
 folded and sealed with red wax. The outside was 
 black with grime. Across it was written, with a blunt 
 quill: " In hand of Master Job Spark, of ye Golden 
 Crown." Francis broke the wax and opened the 
 sheet with infinite care. And this is what he read : 
 
 " FRANK: If ever you come to Bristol, haste to 
 the Cat and Rat. You will find the master a small 
 man with a bald head and a purple mark on his left 
 cheek. Gain his eye; then knock thrice on the table 
 with the knuckles of your right hand and four times 
 with the knuckles of your left. He will then come to 
 you and whisper, ' Topsil.' You will reply, ' Tagant- 
 sil.' 
 
 " Whereupon he will lead you aside and give you full 
 information of me; and if I happen to be in England, 
 he will tell you where to find me. He is my friend. I 
 have talked of you to him a hundred times. Tell 
 my father that I am alive and prospering, but not a 
 word of this to any one else. I am not in need of money, 
 but I am in great need to see you. Master Spark,
 
 52 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 who carries this, is a trusty man, but for fear that it 
 may pass into the wrong hands, I must sign myself, 
 
 " BADGER." 
 
 Francis read the strange letter twice before any 
 light came to him. His mind and heart were all too 
 busy with his own affairs. It was the word " Badger " 
 that cleared his brain. That was what he and Isobel 
 had called Dick, years ago, and for no reason that he 
 could remember. Beyond a doubt his correspondent 
 was none other than the vanished Richard Fairwood 
 St. George Dariza, late of the king's navy and now 
 of the Cat and Rat.
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 THE BALL AT ADMIRAL'S PRIDE 
 
 FRANCIS DRURIE was haunted, night after night, 
 by the strange letter from young Dariza. He could 
 understand the cautious style of it, for he knew that 
 the poor fellow was in hiding from the law, charged 
 with the murder of a certain Captain Sir Howard 
 Dilling. But what he was to gather from this rigmarole 
 of knocks on the table and a friendly tavern-keeper 
 with a bald head, he could not for the life of him think. 
 In great need of something, but hi no need of money. 
 Now, what could he mean by that ? Was he in danger 
 of his life, from some other enemy than the law? 
 
 Before telling Mr. Dariza that he had received a 
 message, he rode to King's Haven again. He found 
 Job Spark in an agreeable mood. After ordering 
 materials for the famous punch, they retired to the 
 private parlour. 
 
 " Master Spark, I want you to tell me something 
 about the man who sent that letter to me," said 
 Francis. 
 
 53
 
 54 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 " Put the question, Master Drurie, and maybe 
 I'll answer ye," replied the mariner. 
 
 "Is he in trouble?" 
 
 This was evidently a hard shot for Master Spark. 
 He pulled at his long moustaches, glared around the 
 room, and wiped his brow with a huge mahogany 
 hand. 
 
 " Well," he said, " ye might call it trouble and, 
 again, ye might not. He was safe enough when I 
 left him." 
 
 " What work does he do ? Is he following the sea? " 
 asked Drurie. 
 
 " Aye, ye might call it that. He be's a fine sailor, 
 be's Hodge." 
 
 "Hodge!" exclaimed the other unguardedly. 
 
 " Aye, that be your friend's name, I take it." The 
 old man looked at the young man with a sort of taunting 
 humour in his eyes. 
 
 Francis laughed. He read the old fellow like a 
 book. 
 
 " You are sharp," he said. " But you are honest, 
 and so am I. Hodge may be his name now; but, as 
 you know as well as I do, he had another once. What 
 that was I'll take it for granted that you know 
 and say no more about it." 
 
 Master Spark tried his best to look as if he knew
 
 The Ball at Admiral's Pride 55 
 
 a great deal more than he really did, and to hide his 
 curiosity. All this was plain as print to Francis. 
 
 Spark nodded his head sagely. 
 
 " It do beat all," he said. " How has the mighty 
 fell from his seat, as the sayin* is." 
 
 " It was no fault of our friend's," said Drurie. 
 " He acted just as you or I would have acted in the 
 same place. He was insulted by a rascal, and gave 
 him the lie fair in his teeth. So he was asked to fight. 
 It was as honest a fight as two men ever engaged in 
 a doctor, and seconds, and everything shipshape. 
 Our friend was the better shot of the two, but the 
 other man belonged to a more powerful family. So 
 the poor fellow had to run for it, and change his name, 
 and hide like a dog. We have thought him dead until 
 now. But all this, of course, is old history to you." 
 
 "Aye, ye might well say so," replied the mariner. 
 But it was not. He had known that the lad called 
 Hodge was a gentleman, but had never been able to 
 learn anything of his past. The old sailor's heart was 
 warmed by Drurie's trust. 
 
 By this time the punch was ready. 
 
 " What manner of place is this 'Cat and Rat'?" 
 asked Drurie. 
 
 " A tricky place," said the mariner. " Not just 
 the place for gentlemen with rings on their fingers to
 
 56 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 fall asleep in. Aye, sir, ye may put it down as a chancey 
 place but don't ye name me for sayin' it. No harm 
 in sayin' it, mind ye but mum's the word, for all 
 that." 
 
 " From this, I gather that our friend is in a rough 
 and dangerous way of business," said Drurie inquir- 
 ingly. 
 
 Spark leaned close to him. 
 
 " Ye have the right o' it," he whispered. " Rough 
 and dangerous, ye may well say. If ye have any hold 
 on him, sir, get him clear o' that crew. Not as how 
 I mean to say any harm o' anybody but a hint be 
 as good as a handspike to a sharp one like ye." 
 
 Francis grasped his hand. 
 
 " Thank you for your frankness," he said. " Not 
 a word of it shall go any further ; but I shall not forget 
 your hint or your kindness. I hope to make a voyage 
 to Bristol in the spring." 
 
 Francis Drurie went over to Hopeland that evening, 
 after his second talk with the master of the Golden 
 Crown. He had avoided the place of late. He found 
 Isobel alone hi the hall, seated beside a fire of hickory 
 logs. He looked at her chin, and then at the top of her 
 head, when they shook hands. He would not allow 
 himself the mournful pleasure of looking into her eyes. 
 He was doing his best to forget about her eyes.
 
 The Ball at Admiral's Pride 57 
 
 " You are ashamed of yourself and well you need 
 be," she said. 
 
 " Ashamed ? " he repeated, honestly puzzled. His 
 glance met hers. 
 
 " Why have you deserted us? It is five days since 
 you were here," she said. Then she blushed suddenly 
 and returned to her seat. 
 
 Francis felt that he was being made a fool of. She 
 had counted the days since his last visit! What right 
 had she to do that? And why did she blush? It 
 did not look to him like a blush of guilt which, of 
 course, it should have been. What right had she to 
 play with him after driving him away? He stared at 
 her gravely until her eyelids drooped. 
 
 " You used to come to see me every day," she said 
 gently. 
 
 " And now John comes every day. I thought that 
 was enough," he said. There was a ring in his voice 
 that he had not intended. She looked up quickly, and 
 down again like a flash. 
 
 " You are rude," she said. " You must have lost 
 your manners while fighting in the wilderness." 
 
 " I certainly lost something while I was away 
 something more important than my poor manners," 
 replied Francis. Then, conscience- stricken at the speech 
 - " I beg your pardon for speaking so," he said.
 
 58 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 " What did you lose ? " asked the girl without turning 
 her head, and scarcely above a whisper. 
 
 The young man stared at her, astonished and 
 angry. At that moment, to his great relief, Mr. Dariza 
 entered the hall. He walked forward and met the 
 old gentleman half-way. 
 
 " May I speak to you in private, sir? " he asked in 
 a low voice. 
 
 Mr. Dariza glanced inquiringly in his daughter's 
 direction, but she was gazing intently into the fire. 
 
 " Speak to me, Frank ? Certainly, certainly. This 
 way, if you please," he said in a very evident fluster. 
 
 Francis followed him to the library, puzzled at the 
 uneasiness of his manner. 
 
 Mr. Dariza closed the library door, waved the 
 visitor to a seat, and sank into one himself with the air 
 of a man spent with exhaustion. A red spot flamed 
 in the centre of each thin, yellow cheek, and his black 
 eyes shone with a feverish brightness. 
 
 " You are ill, sir," cried Drurie anxiously, rising 
 from his chair. 
 
 The master of Hopeland motioned him back. 
 
 " It is of the spirit, dear lad. Sit down, I beg of 
 you," he said. 
 
 But Francis stepped closer. 
 
 " I have heard from overseas," he said. " I have
 
 The Ball at Admiral's Pride 59 
 
 heard, in a roundabout way, that one whom we love 
 and thought lost is alive and prospering." He talked 
 very fast, anxious to tell all all that he could tell 
 without startling Dariza. " He is not in need of 
 money. He is in the city of Bristol, very comfortable, 
 but still in hiding. He is known by an assumed name; 
 but, beyond a doubt, that old trouble will soon be 
 forgotten, and then he will come home and live fear- 
 lessly. But, until then, he cannot be too careful. He 
 wants nobody but you and me to know that he still 
 lives." 
 
 Dariza looked dazed. 
 
 " Of whom are you talking ? " he cried. " Do you 
 speak of my son of Dick ? " He sat straight in 
 his chair, only to sink weakly back again. His frail 
 body shook as if with the palsy. 
 
 " Yes, Dick is alive and well," replied Francis. 
 Then, hastening from the room, he returned in a 
 moment with a glass of brandy and water. Mr. Dariza 
 swallowed a little of it, and then pushed the glass 
 away from him. He pulled himself forward in his 
 chair. 
 
 "How did the letter come to you?" he asked 
 faintly. 
 
 " By the hand of an old shipmaster named Spark," 
 replied Drurie.
 
 60 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 " Show it to me," said the other. " Let me read it, 
 lad, with my own eyes." 
 
 Now, Francis had guarded against this by making 
 a copy of the letter, for his own use in the future, and 
 burning the original. What the old gentleman would 
 have thought of the mention of the low tavern and the 
 purple-marked keeper, he dared not contemplate. That 
 he would have suspected the worst, and suffered more 
 than at news of the lad's death, there could be no 
 doubt. 
 
 " I burned the letter, for fear that a servant might 
 get hold of it," said Francis, lying coolly in a good 
 cause. "It is so evident that Dick wants to keep his 
 existence a close secret that I dared not take the slight- 
 est risk of having the letter go astray." 
 
 Mr. Dariza gazed at the young man for a long time; 
 but, as the other returned the gaze without so much as 
 the flicker of an eyelash, he said at last : 
 
 " I believe you did right, Frank whatever it was 
 you feared. Perhaps you burned the letter for Dick's 
 sake, and, again, it may have been for my sake." 
 
 " I burned it for all our sakes," replied Francis. 
 " It contained minute directions for finding him in 
 Bristol; and if these were to fall into untrustworthy 
 hands or unfriendly hands he would be in con- 
 stant danger of his life."
 
 The Ball at Admiral's Pride 61 
 
 Mr. Dariza nodded reflectively. He had com- 
 pletely regained his composure. 
 
 " But what of the fellow who brought the letter across 
 the sea ? Was there not great risk in that ? " he 
 asked. 
 
 " The seal was unbroken. Spark is a rough but 
 trusty man, I take it," answered Francis. 
 
 " I must talk to him," said Dariza. " I want to 
 hear, from one who has seen it with his own eyes, that 
 my boy is alive and happy." 
 
 " I have talked twice with Spark," said young 
 Drurie; " and, though I do not doubt his trust- 
 worthiness, I know that Dick has not taken him 
 into his entire confidence concerning his past and his 
 family. Spark knows that Dick is a gentleman, and the 
 victim of injustice but nothing more. 
 
 " Once he learned that Dick is your son, the whole 
 story would be his for the asking. Any one in King's 
 Haven, where his vessel is lying, would give him all 
 the particulars. And who can say what he would tell 
 in his cups ? If Dick himself has not trusted him with 
 the secret of his past, what right have we to do so? 
 And I am positive that Dick has not. The fellow is 
 even ignorant of the fact that he was once an officer on 
 a king's ship." 
 
 " I believe you are right again, Frank," replied
 
 62 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 Mr. Dariza. " But find out all you can, lad. I shall 
 be at peace with this world I am leaving if only I 
 can feel assured that the boy is not in suffering and has 
 a chance of attaining happiness." 
 
 " I questioned the mariner," said Francis. " Dick 
 is not suffering, I am sure; and his identity is well 
 hidden. In his letter he says he is in need of nothing 
 save the sight of an old friend's face. If he is still in 
 England, I shall see him in the spring. Spark tells 
 me that he follows the sea for a living, and is a splendid 
 sailor. I gathered that he sails only on short voyages, 
 hi small, coastwise vessels." 
 
 Mr. Dariza got up slowly from his chair and un- 
 locked a drawer hi his desk. From this he took a 
 purse, which he handed, without opening, to Francis. 
 It was a large purse, of stout leather, and full and 
 heavy. 
 
 " Here are a hundred sovereigns," he said. " Please 
 give it to the shipmaster as if a gift from yourself, and 
 tell him that half of it is for himself and half for Dick. 
 Dick may not be in need of money; but I think a little 
 extra is always welcome to a young man, whether he 
 be an officer on a ship of war or a common sailor on 
 board a coasting vessel." 
 
 He sank into his chair and covered his eyes with his 
 hands.
 
 The Ball at Admiral's Pride 63 
 
 Francis Drurie soon made another journey to King's 
 Haven. When he gave the fat purse to Master Spark, 
 with a brief word as to how the contents were to be 
 divided, the old man's eyes glistened with the unmis- 
 takable sheen of greed. 
 
 He opened it and peeped within. He pulled out a 
 golden coin and pinched it between his teeth. 
 
 " How d'ye know, mate, but what I'll keep the 
 whole hundred yellow boys for meself ? " he asked with 
 a leer. 
 
 Francis smiled. 
 
 " You cannot frighten me," he said. " I know 
 you as if I had lived with you all my life. You are far 
 more likely to give our friend the whole purseful than 
 keep it all to yourself." 
 
 Master Spark looked confused. He fortified himself 
 with a glass of punch. 
 
 " Aye, mate, ye be hi the right o' it there. Job 
 Spark would never rob a friend, even if he hadn't a 
 single flat un to buy his grog with." 
 
 The weeks wore along; and the Golden Crown, 
 tight and sound aloft and alow, and freighted with 
 corn and tobacco, sailed away from King's Haven. 
 The months wore along; and early in March invita- 
 tions went out for a great ball at Admiral's Pride. This 
 was to be in honour of Francis, who had made his
 
 64 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 plans to sail for Bristol some time about the middle 
 of the month. 
 
 Since his visit to Hopeland to tell Mr. Dariza the 
 news of his son, Francis had studiously avoided Isobel. 
 He did not find this an easy thing to do. It went sorely 
 against his inclination, and, which was worse, it 
 caused comment on the part of Mr. Fairwood open 
 comment. But the poor lad could not trust his self- 
 control. He knew that if the girl acted again as she 
 had on that memorable day, he would cast to the winds 
 all caution and the knowledge of the fact that she 
 was betrothed to John. He saw his duty in the matter 
 as plain as a pikestaff; and he would do it, though the 
 heavens fell. 
 
 But IsobeFs behaviour caused him days of worry. 
 He could think of no reason for it and yet he knew, 
 in the depths of his heart, that she would not act so 
 for idle amusement. His heart cherished her image 
 and defended her; but his brain told him that she was 
 a flirt. He listened to his brain during the hours 
 of daylight and to his heart at night. He often felt 
 very much inclined to kick Master John. 
 
 The ball was to be held on the sixteenth day of the 
 month. On the morning of the tenth the brig Thrush 
 arrived in King's Haven. This was the vessel in which 
 Francis was to make the voyage to Bristol. She was a
 
 The Ball at Admiral's Pride 65 
 
 full week earlier than expected; but, as the date of the 
 ball could not be changed, her master grumblingly con- 
 sented to wait until the seventeenth before heading east- 
 ward again. As soon as her cargo of mixed wares 
 silks, broadcloths, laces, firearms, wigs, small swords, 
 and other fancy gear from England was out of 
 her hold, and the bales and hogsheads of tobacco 
 under the hatches, Francis put his luggage aboard. 
 He was keen to get to sea and begin his adventures. 
 Amid dangers and new scenes he would forget his 
 worries. 
 
 The night of the ball arrived. The Bullers came 
 all the way from Indian Creek, the ladies in an ark- 
 like, springless coach drawn by four horses, and the 
 gentlemen mounted. The Sprigs came from Sprig 
 Towers, twenty-six miles away. Sir Peter Nash, 
 though little better than a confirmed invalid, arrived 
 in good time, with only one foot in a stirrup, the other 
 bandaged to such a size that it would not go in the 
 iron. There were dozens of other fashionables, from 
 near and far the Fairfaxes, the Darlings, the Plums, 
 and so on, and so on. There were old, middle-aged and 
 young; red and sallow, ugly, ordinary and beautiful; 
 clever, common-sensed and stupid. But of all that 
 were beautiful, Isobel Dariza was the most beautiful. 
 
 Every room of the ground floor of the great house
 
 66 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 hummed with the business of pleasure the singing 
 of the fiddles, the swish of gliding feet, the rippling 
 of laughter, and the fine clash of silver and glass in the 
 dining-room. About the kitchen and offices the negroes 
 clustered. In the stables the horses of the guests 
 munched contentedly. 
 
 Francis Drurie cautioned his heart not to be a fool, 
 and asked Isobel Dariza to dance with him. 
 
 " You know that I cannot refuse you hi your father's 
 house," she said. 
 
 He had nothing to say to that. He had a right to 
 this dance, and he would have it. He had so few rights 
 that he was determined to make the most of them. 
 To-morrow he would be on the sea. To-night he 
 would snatch what pleasure he could out of a very 
 sad affair. Suddenly, in the midst of all that stir 
 and light and merriment, it was as if they were the 
 only real people in the world. She was very close to 
 him. She looked up, fairly into his eyes. 
 
 " Why have you deserted me? " she asked. 
 
 There was neither coquetry nor anger in her voice, 
 nor any pretence of indifference. 
 
 " Because I cannot choose a middle course," he 
 said quietly. He would tell the truth, since she had 
 asked for it, and have done. " I must either love you 
 or keep away from you. I am a poor hand at play-
 
 The Ball at Admiral's Pride 67 
 
 acting. So, as you are to marry John, I have kept 
 away from you. It has not been easy, I assure you." 
 
 "Why do you think I am to marry John?" she 
 asked. 
 
 Her wonderful eyes were still raised to his, open 
 and gleaming to their bright, dark depths. 
 
 " It was told to me; and John accepted my con- 
 gratulations," he replied, his voice low-pitched and in 
 splendid control. 
 
 "It is not true," she said with restraint that meant 
 more than a passionate outbreak. " I shall never marry 
 John. I have told him so many times." 
 
 " My faith!" exclaimed Francis softly. 
 
 Now they found themselves in a little room off the 
 library, occupied by two old ladies and two old gentle- 
 men, who were playing cards very intently. The 
 only candles were on the centre of the card-table; 
 the corners of the room were left in shadow. 
 
 " It may be," whispered Francis huskily, " that 
 you that you care a little for some one else." 
 
 He could not hear her reply. He leaned closer, so 
 that he could see her face. 
 
 " I have loved you more than life itself ever 
 since I came home from the West," he said. 
 
 Again, he could not hear her reply. Her face, 
 though very near, was turned away.
 
 68 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 " Isobel! " he whispered. 
 
 At that she turned to him, and he saw that her 
 wonderful eyes were gleaming with tears. 
 
 What marvel was this! And the card-players still 
 gazed at their cards! 
 
 " You must not cry," he said tenderly. " I did 
 not mean to hurt you. I shall go away to-morrow 
 and never trouble you again." 
 
 " Don't you know?" she whispered. " Don't you 
 see how I love you! I have loved you longer than you 
 have loved me, dear." 
 
 He drew her to him, and touched his lips to her lips 
 and eyes and brow. And the card-players did not look 
 up from their cards!
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 A BREAKFAST VISIT 
 
 THE last dance was finished. A few of the guests 
 had departed, and the rest were asleep under the 
 broad roof of Admiral's Pride. The lower rooms 
 were in silence and darkness, but here and there a 
 candle shone in the window of an upper chamber. 
 
 Francis had moved, for that night, to a little room 
 in the attic. On the next night he would sleep still 
 farther away from his accustomed bed; but he gave 
 this no thought. He took off his laced coat and silken 
 breeches and packed them in the leather bag, which 
 were the only articles of his luggage not already aboard 
 the Thrush. Then he dressed in a serviceable suit 
 of blue. By this time the March dawn was blue against 
 the window. 
 
 Francis extinguished the candle, and, his riding- 
 boots in his hand, went silently from the room. He 
 passed down the narrow, uncarpeted stairs on tip- 
 toe. 
 
 At the closed door of John's room he paused for a 
 69
 
 70 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 moment. " No. He is my brother. I will not quarrel 
 with him," he muttered. 
 
 He descended to the lower floor, and let himself 
 into the garden by a side-door. There were no leaves 
 on the rose-bushes. The whole world was cloaked 
 in cold, gray-blue shadows. The earth was soft and 
 cold underfoot. Francis pulled on his boots and went 
 over to the stables. A watch-dog got to its feet and 
 barked. At the first sound of the familiar voice it 
 lay down again, silenced. 
 
 One of the grooms on night duty opened a stable 
 door and held a lantern over his head. In his other 
 hand he grasped a stout whip. 
 
 " Barnaby," said Francis, " I want you to saddle 
 Jumper for me as quietly as you can." 
 
 " Yesser. Yes, Master Frank," replied the groom. 
 
 When Jumper was led out, and Francis mounted, 
 Barnaby said: 
 
 " The young lady was like a angel, Master Frank. 
 All us black folks says so. An' all us black folks be 
 infernal overjoyed to see that God has sent under- 
 standin' to ye, Master Frank. Even Barnaby seed 
 what ye was blind to, sir. Yesser, I was near cryin', 
 sometimes. An' her a angel, if there was ever one, an' 
 not a lady in Virginny to name alongside her. Yesser." 
 
 " You are right, Barnaby," said Francis.
 
 A Breakfast Visit 71 
 
 " Yesser. But why does ye sail to furren parts, 
 sir ? " returned the groom. 
 
 " I wonder the same thing. But it is my duty. 
 She will not let me shirk my duty." He pressed a gold 
 coin into the groom's hand. " You are a good boy, 
 Barnaby. If ever you see the young lady in danger, 
 try to help her. Your arm is stronger than many a 
 gentleman's, lad. 
 
 " I'll be back in an hour or so," he said finally, 
 and trotted away. 
 
 Francis Drurie cantered down the avenue and out 
 to the highway. His brain worked intently, back and 
 forth, back and forth, over the wonderful thing that 
 had come to him, and over the bitter path to which duty 
 pointed. 
 
 For the first time in his life he felt the cold agony 
 of fear. It gripped him like the pain of a wound. He 
 felt the ache of it in his heart and lungs. Through 
 and through his fevered brain passed menacing shapes 
 shapes of dangers threatening the woman he loved. 
 He gave no thought to the risks of the sea, but a vision 
 of the gray distances that would lie between her and 
 his protection weighted his spirit. 
 
 Yet she wanted him to go. She had made light of 
 his fears. " Nothing will harm me," she had said. 
 " I shall long for you, day and night, but that is the
 
 72 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 part of a woman who loves a man worth loving. Though 
 I fear that I shall not have strength to let you leave me 
 a second time." 
 
 He brooded over the words that she had said to 
 him a few hours ago, with her cheek against his shoul- 
 der. Surely, if fate held any danger for her, her heart 
 would have warned her. He sent Jumper forward at 
 a gallop. He outran fear. 
 
 What could hurt her in this peaceful place? Her 
 father would protect her. Mr. Fairwood loved her as 
 if she were his own daughter. Every man and woman, 
 black and white, gentle and simple, on three estates, 
 would defend her if any danger appeared. She pos- 
 sessed health, youth, and wealth. He had been a fool 
 to worry. 
 
 And what was this voyage of his, when bravely 
 considered ? It would be a thing of the past in a year's 
 time. She had lived eighteen years without an acci- 
 dent ; then, why fear for her hi the next twelve months ? 
 
 He turned and galloped back along the way he had 
 come. He passed the great gates of Admiral's Pride, 
 and held on down the highway, riding at a clipping 
 pace. Jumper needed no urging. But now the upper 
 rim of the sun was just showing above the eastern 
 horizon, and the world was all afire with azure and 
 young gold. Up a gentle hill and down the other
 
 A Breakfast Visit 73 
 
 side of it he rode, round a long curve and past the gates 
 of Fairwood Manor. Half a mile beyond this he drew 
 rein and dismounted. 
 
 Here was a humble gateway, the squat stone posts 
 flanked by circular groves of yew. He opened the 
 gate, led Jumper within, and hitched him under one 
 of the trees of the grove. As he walked up the short 
 avenue that led to the house of Hopeland his breath 
 caught hi his throat, and he could hear the drumming 
 of eager blood in his head. 
 
 All was quiet about the house, though it was bathed 
 in light from its foundations to its clustered chimneys. 
 Francis moved to the middle of the lawn, turned and 
 gazed up at a certain window. It was curtained and 
 lifeless. Of course he had expected nothing else. 
 
 For all that, a sudden chill crossed his spirit. So 
 he stood for several minutes, gazing helplessly and 
 longingly up at the blind window. Suddenly his heart 
 told him to turn before his ear gave him any warning, 
 and turning, with open arms, he caught Isobel to his 
 breast. 
 
 She wore a great, red cloak over her ballroom 
 finery. Her firm, young arms were bare. He felt the 
 cool, yet glowing, touch of them against his neck. 
 
 " Why are you standing here ? What did you expect 
 to see ? " she asked presently.
 
 74 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 " I did not want to sleep," he replied. " I rode 
 until sunrise. 
 
 " Then I came here to look at your window." 
 
 " And I did not want to sleep," she said. " I have 
 been wandering about the poor, leafless gardens since 
 the first peep of dawn." 
 
 " I hope you have not caught cold," he whispered 
 anxiously. 
 
 She laughed at that, but kissed him for it. 
 
 " Tell me, boy tell me why you did not want to 
 sleep," she murmured, nestling close to him, with her 
 face against his shoulder, and one hand grasping the 
 breast of his coat. 
 
 He was about to reply that his time in Virginia was 
 far too short to throw away in sleep, but he would try 
 to forget that for the moment. 
 
 "If I had slept I should have dreamed," he said; 
 " and one cannot control one's dreams. So I stayed 
 awake to think of you." 
 
 " And that is why I stayed awake, too," she said. 
 " And I came out, that there should be only one wall, 
 instead of two, between us. And think; there was no 
 wall at all! We were both out in the gray dawn and 
 we did not know it." 
 
 " We know it now," replied Francis, and proved 
 it.
 
 A Breakfast Visit 75 
 
 They walked down the avenue to where Jumper 
 stood patiently under a tree. 
 
 " Dear," said he, " I have been thinking hard this 
 morning. If you want me to stay in Virginia, I will 
 stay aye, with delight." 
 
 " You must not say that," she replied, in a very 
 small voice. " We must not think only of our happi- 
 ness of to-day. This love of ours is for all our lifetime 
 and this first little year will be only a small part of 
 that. I shall be brave, dear. When you return, dearest, 
 how I shall cherish you! " 
 
 " God bless you," whispered Francis brokenly. 
 He held her close. " Tell me do you feel any fear 
 of the future?" he asked. 
 
 " No," she replied. " I prayed this morning, and 
 suddenly fear left me; and I knew that, though seas 
 and lands separate us for a little while, we shall live 
 our lives together. It was as if a voice had said it to 
 my soul! " 
 
 The effect on the young soldier was instant and 
 wonderful. Had an angel in celestial robes appeared 
 before him and told him that his love was safe, his 
 feeling of joy and security could have been no greater. 
 
 They walked back to the house, hand in hand. 
 By this time the servants were moving about the house. 
 
 " Wait here on the gallery," said Isobel. " I will
 
 76 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 slip in and up to my room. In ten minutes you must 
 pound on the door, and say that you have come to 
 breakfast. I shall be ready to entertain you until 
 breakfast-time and that is not for hours yet." 
 
 " And I must speak to your father," he said. 
 
 " Yes. Speak to him during breakfast. He loves 
 you, dear." Then, quick as turning round, she was 
 gone. 
 
 Francis stood very still for a minute. Then he began 
 to contemplate the door, as if selecting a spot to ham- 
 mer. 
 
 A boy came whistling around the hedge from the 
 direction of the kitchen. 
 
 Francis halted him with a shout. " Come here, 
 Sambo," he called. 
 
 " Lordamercy! Master Frank!" exclaimed the 
 boy. 
 
 " You'll find Jumper hitched to a tree down by 
 the big gates," said Francis. " Ride him home, and 
 tell them that I am breakfasting with Mr. Dariza. 
 Give the message to Barnaby to take up to the house." 
 
 " Yesser," said the astonished boy. 
 
 " Hold here is a yellow one for you, Sambo," 
 added the lover, tossing a thick coin on the lawn. 
 
 Then he turned and applied the butt of his whip 
 to the door, with the air of one making up lost time.
 
 A Breakfast Visit 77 
 
 The door was snatched open by Mr. Dariza's ancient 
 black butler. His wrinkled face was quite gray with 
 fright. 
 
 "Hi, Master Frank! Be some one dead over to 
 Admiral's Pride ? " he exclaimed. 
 
 "Why, no, Jake; I can't say there is," replied 
 Francis, somewhat flustered. " I just came over to 
 see to see your master." 
 
 Jake bowed him in. He knew what a visit from a 
 Drurie demanded, whatever the hour. Yet he shot a 
 furtive glance at the young gentleman, suspecting that 
 the refreshments at the ball had been too much for 
 him. 
 
 Yes, he was right. Master Frank's eyes were shining 
 in an unmistakable way, and his cheeks were flushed. 
 He was about to usher his visitor into the library and 
 go to the cook for advice, when down the stairs came 
 the mistress of the house herself. 
 
 " Here am Master Frank, a makin' a call on the 
 gin'ral," announced the butler. 
 
 He did not wait to see how his young mistress re- 
 ceived the statement or the caller but retired 
 to the dining-room, and congratulated himself on 
 being very neatly out of an awkward corner. 
 
 The lovers greeted each other as if they had not 
 already met.
 
 78 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 When Mr. Dariza came down-stairs, two hours 
 later, he tried to look as if he felt no surprise at finding 
 Francis Drurie and his daughter calmly awaiting him 
 in the breakfast-room. He greeted Drurie with, quiet 
 cordiality. 
 
 " Frank has come over to have breakfast with us," 
 explained Isobel. " And that is very good of him; 
 for this is his his last day in Virginia for some 
 time." Her voice was a trifle uncertain. 
 
 Her father looked at her with tender inquiry. " Yes, 
 it is good of him," he said. He smiled at Francis. 
 " It is some time since you last honoured us, lad," he 
 said. " I have wondered if anything serious could be 
 the matter if anything had injured our old friendship. 
 I am glad to see that my fears were groundless. I 
 consider it very kind and polite of you to spare us a 
 part of your last morning at home." While he spoke, 
 he kept his bright gaze on the young man's face. 
 
 Francis murmured a few vague words in reply. 
 He knew that his cheeks were red as fire. He felt that 
 Dariza could see his mind. 
 
 The breakfast-table was small and round. Francis 
 found that without any effort he could touch IsobePs 
 feet with one of his. The thrill he received upon 
 making this discovery was wonderful, even without 
 taking into consideration the thickness of his riding-
 
 A Breakfast Visit 79 
 
 boot. Isobel did not draw her feet under her chair. 
 In fact, she advanced them in his direction, at the 
 same time opening her eyes at him in a way that seemed 
 to dim the morning sunlight with a finer radiance. 
 Lord, what things they are love and youth ! 
 
 Breakfast was half over by the time Francis had 
 himself sufficiently in hand to make the first move on 
 Mr. Dariza. The butler was out of the way. Now 
 was his time. 
 
 " I wish to ask you, sir that is, I want to know 
 if you "he began. He paused, staring at his host 
 with a look of scared bewilderment on his face. The 
 thing was more difficult than he had anticipated. 
 Both his wit and his breath had failed him. 
 
 Mr. Dariza bowed gravely. 
 
 Encouraged, Francis began again: "I want your 
 consent, sir, to to to ask Isobel to marry me." 
 
 Mr. Dariza smiled gently. " It would have been 
 more correct, dear lad, to have asked me in private," 
 he said. 
 
 " But my time is so short," replied Francis plead- 
 ingly. " I did not know until last night that I had any 
 chance at all. I should have spoken to you then 
 but it quite slipped my mind, sir." 
 
 Mr. Dariza sat very still in his chair, gazing straight 
 ahead of him with eyes that saw nothing of this world.
 
 80 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 What they saw, who shall say? Perhaps a vision of 
 his own youth; perhaps a face from beyond the veil 
 of death. At last he turned to the lover. 
 " You may have her, lad," he said.
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 FRANCIS SAILS AWAY 
 
 FRANCIS left Hopeland shortly after breakfast, 
 having first arranged to meet Isobel down by the gates 
 when on his way to King's Haven early in the after- 
 noon. 
 
 He was received by the captain in the hall of Ad- 
 miral's Pride. 
 
 " This is a strange way to treat us on your last 
 morning ashore," said the war-scarred sailor. 
 
 Francis placed a hand on each of his father's 
 shoulders. 
 
 " You will not say so when you know why I did it, 
 sir," he said. " Isobel has promised to be my wife. 
 I I have so short a time to be with her, that I went 
 over this morning. I hope you will forgive me, sir ? " 
 
 "Forgive you?" cried the captain. "Bless your 
 heart, what else can I do? Frank, you are a lucky 
 dog. Gad, how you can sail away from that beauty is 
 more than I can see. And what about John? Rip 
 me, but this is a good joke on John! " 
 
 81
 
 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 " I cannot help that, sir," replied Francis. " If 
 John is hurt, it is his own fault. She did not care for 
 him though he led us to think otherwise." 
 
 Just then the mother appeared. 
 
 " Alice," cried the captain, " this young knave has 
 as good an excuse as I ever heard for not staying at 
 home for breakfast. What d'ye think? Stab me, if 
 he isn't the accepted, and registered, and proclaimed 
 future husband of the finest girl in Virginia! And I 
 am glad of it. He deserves the best, though he does 
 not happen to be our eldest." 
 
 Mrs. Drurie flung her arms around her son's neck. 
 " But what is your father talking about ? " she asked. 
 " You must not excite him, dear, or he'll not be able 
 to ride over to King's Haven." 
 
 Francis smiled at his father over his mother's 
 head. 
 
 " Isobel has promised to marry me, mother, when 
 I return from this voyage," he said. 
 
 "Isobel?" cried Mrs. Drurie. "Isobel Dariza? 
 And what of poor John ? " 
 
 "And what of him?" cried the captain, who was 
 working himself into a fine fluster. He had not had so 
 much excitement since his last battle. " And what of 
 him?" he repeated. "Can't the girl pick her own 
 husband so long as Dariza does not object ? Aye,
 
 Francis Sails Away 
 
 she can pick from all Virginia! And she has picked, 
 old lady. She has chosen a fighter a man who is 
 already a good soldier, and will make a good sailor. 
 
 " That's as it should be. Sailors and soldiers get 
 the finest girls aye, and always will I did, for 
 one." 
 
 At that moment John came from the library, at- 
 tracted by his father's tirade. The captain turned 
 upon his eldest, and gazed at him from beneath puck- 
 ered brows. The mother withdrew her arms from 
 Frank's neck, and looked from one to the other of her 
 children, as if she did not know what to do. 
 
 Francis walked up to his brother. " Shake hands, 
 John," he said. " There has been a mistake but I 
 am willing to forget it. Shake hands, lad." 
 
 John complied with the other's request. But he 
 looked puzzled and anxious. " What is all this about ? 
 Of what mistake do you speak ? " he asked, glancing 
 from Francis to his father and mother. 
 
 " You will understand, John, when I inform you 
 that Isobel has promised to become my wife," replied 
 Francis coldly. 
 
 The elder brother changed colour, muttered a few 
 unintelligible words, and hurried from the hall. 
 
 With a snort of rage, the captain followed as fast 
 as his lame leg would allow. Now he understood
 
 84 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 what John's game had been; and disgust and anger 
 glowed in him. 
 
 Mrs. Drurie turned to Francis with tears of fear and 
 consternation in her eyes. "What is it?" she cried. 
 " Why is your father so angry with John ? He said 
 nothing. He is to be pitied, poor boy." 
 
 " Yes, John is to be pitied," said Francis. 
 
 " Then why did your father look at him so so 
 frightfully?" asked the distressed woman. "And 
 what was the mistake of which you spoke to John ? " 
 
 " It is nothing to worry about now," said Francis, 
 patting his mother's hand. " John made a mistake, 
 some time ago and that led me to make a mistake. 
 I discovered both mistakes last night; so no harm is 
 done." 
 
 Mrs. Drurie was about to ask for a more definite 
 answer to her question, when the front door opened, 
 and Mr. Fairwood bounced into the hall. He grasped 
 the young man's hand in both of his. 
 
 " Congratulations, my dear boy! " he cried. " 'Tis 
 the best thing I've heard in a lifetime. I've just been 
 over to Hopeland, and the girl told it to me herself. 
 She is the finest girl in the world, Frank but, as 
 she was bound to fall hi love with some man, I am glad 
 she has chosen you." He turned his broad and glowing 
 face upon Mrs. Drurie. " She'll make a daughter for
 
 Francis Sails Away 85 
 
 you to be proud of, ma'am, though I say it, who am 
 her uncle." He returned to Francis. " But why have 
 you taken so long to find out what was the trouble 
 with you? Was it your fault, or Isobel's? Ton my 
 word, lad, it looked to me as if you were leaving the 
 finest thing in the world to a young man who already 
 has more than he deserves. And yet I knew all the 
 time that it was you she cared for." 
 
 " I wish you had told me so," said Francis. 
 
 Just then the captain returned to the hall. The 
 thunder had cleared from his brow which was sure 
 proof that he had rid himself of the lightning. He 
 gripped his old friend's hand, and clapped him on 
 the back. " You are in the nick of time, Henry," he 
 exclaimed. " Joskins is mixing a Billy-rough-un." 
 
 John appeared just when the punch was ready. He 
 looked pale and decidedly shamefaced. Yet he drank 
 the healths of Isobel and his brother with a very good 
 grace. Then, refilling his glass, he proposed fair 
 winds and a safe return, and clinked his glass against 
 his brother's. 
 
 Yes, Master John had made a noble recovery; but 
 deep inside, he felt small and mean. Also, he thought 
 his heart broken but that, I am bound to confess, 
 was only one of his poetic fancies. 
 
 It had been planned that Mrs. Drurie was to go to
 
 86 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 King's Haven in the carriage, and that Mr. Fairwood 
 and the three Druries were to ride. Now Mrs. Drurie 
 suggested that she should call on the way for Isobel. 
 She wanted to begin petting the girl immediately. 
 She had a daughter at last. 
 
 " Perhaps she will not want to go," said the captain. 
 " It would be a hard twist for her, beyond a doubt." 
 
 " Isobel is a girl with a fine spirit," replied the lady. 
 " I know more of this sort of thing than you do, Paul. 
 How many times did you sail away from me before 
 you settled down to a peaceful life? And was there 
 ever a time that I did not go aboard your ship, and 
 remain aboard until the last boat pulled away for 
 the shore ? " 
 
 " You are right, Alice," admitted the captain. 
 " Women are the very devil for wanting to see the 
 last of everything. They worry more over little things 
 that they don't see, than over big things that they 
 have a square look at. Oh, I'm not denying the 
 courage of the finer members of your sex, my dear." 
 
 " But I hope you'll not expect her to do anything 
 that that she may not want to do," ventured Francis, 
 blushing very red. 
 
 The captain and Mr. Fairwood laughed uproariously 
 at that. 
 
 " Have no fear, lad," the captain assured him.
 
 Francis Sails Away 87 
 
 " She shall be let do everything that she wants to do 
 and nothing that she does not want to do, while you 
 are away. Her word will be law with us, Frank, you 
 may take my oath on that." 
 
 " You had better go over to Hopeland and ask her 
 if she will accompany us into King's Haven," said the 
 lady. " The carriage would call for her at three. 
 Wait a moment, dear, and I'll send a note." 
 
 " And if your bag is packed, lad, you can stay there 
 until we call for you," said the captain. " It seems to 
 me you've cut your time so short that you'll need 
 every minute of it." 
 
 What his mother wrote to Isobel, Francis did not 
 know. It must have been something remarkable, to 
 judge by the effect of it on the girl. She blushed and 
 wept over it. 
 
 " I did not know she was so fond of me," she said 
 to Francis. 
 
 " Everybody loves you," replied the young man. 
 " But," he added, " if all their love was put together, 
 it would not be equal to one-millionth part of my 
 love alone." 
 
 " And just think, dear, that this time yesterday I 
 cried for almost an hour because I thought that you 
 did not love me at all," said the girl. 
 
 " How terrible! " exclaimed Francis.
 
 88 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 Isobel decided to go to King's Haven, and a message 
 was sent to Admiral's Pride by a servant. 
 
 Three o'clock, and the Drurie carriage and the 
 riders arrived all too soon for the lovers. Every one 
 but John kissed Isobel. 
 
 John was having trouble, at the time, with a horse 
 that had never been known to give trouble before. 
 
 Then Isobel got into the carriage, the driver cracked 
 his whip, the gentlemen swung to their saddles, and 
 away they all started for King's Haven, leaving Mr. 
 Dariza waving his hand from the wintry lawn. 
 
 Highways were poor affairs in those good old days, 
 and carriages were not a bit better. If Mrs. Drurie 
 and Isobel clung to each other frequently during the 
 journey, it is not to be wondered at. The pitching, 
 rolling, and bumping kept up their spirits. It was much 
 more exciting than saddle-work. The carriage was 
 wide, and the road was narrow; but Francis managed 
 to keep Jumper close beside the open window at which 
 IsobePs face appeared in every lull in the passage. 
 
 Sometimes the agile horse was in the ditch, and some- 
 times in the thicket of leafless blackberry vines beyond. 
 Not once did he fall behind or forge ahead. A dozen 
 times, or more, he was so close to the window that his 
 rider was able to reach his hand within. It was an 
 exciting and pleasurable journey.
 
 Francis Sails Away 89 
 
 The March sun was shining, and the March wind 
 was piping over the little town and harbour of King's 
 Haven. Gulls swerved along the skipping waves, 
 and the air was wet and brisk with the smell of the 
 salty flats and lively acres of the tide. 
 
 At the end of the wharf the Thrush strained secretly 
 at her moorings, rubbing, pulling a little, and shifting 
 this way and that, now fore and aft, now up and down, 
 as if to discover the full strength of the ropes that held 
 her. The wind piped in her tops and the tide fumbled 
 at her keel. 
 
 The horses were stabled at the tavern, and the two 
 ladies and four gentlemen went down the wharf and 
 aboard the little Thrush. They were ushered into 
 the tiny cabin by a dumfounded boatswain, and there 
 the shipmaster opened a bottle of his best wine, and 
 " a prosperous voyage " was drunk by every one. 
 
 Then the narrow, dark berth in which Francis was 
 to sleep was inspected. Mrs. Drurie pronounced it 
 unfit for anything but a cat, and the captain said it 
 was a palace compared to his berth aboard the Sneezer 
 when he was a midshipman. Isobel said nothing; 
 but, the little coop being black as a chimney, she lifted 
 her face to her lover's. 
 
 The brig swung away from the wharf, and little 
 black eddies spun between the moving timbers and the
 
 90 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 fixed. The headsails flapped and filled, and mariners 
 went up the shrouds and out on the foot-ropes. The 
 main sheet was manned, and the yard was squared 
 to the time of a deep-sea chanty roared by husky 
 throats. 
 
 Francis Drurie stood on the high poop, bare headed, 
 facing the land from which he was so swiftly slipping 
 away. The wharf was thronged with people. 
 
 In front, in a little space left for them by the town- 
 folk, stood his mother and Isobel, his father, his 
 brother, and Mr. Fairwood. He could see how straight 
 the girl stood, gazing across the water to him, her right 
 hand clasped in that of the elder woman and the left 
 upon her lips. 
 
 Then, for a moment, the scene dimmed before the 
 young man's straining eyes. A mist of tears welled 
 across his vision. A great longing broke its bonds 
 within him, gripping his heart and shaking him from 
 head to heel. He stretched his arms toward the 
 wharf, and a low, harsh cry escaped him. It was that 
 sound that startled him to recovery. 
 
 When the entrance to the little harbour and the 
 roofs of the town were hidden by the shifting coast- 
 line, and four miles of sea ran and splashed between 
 the brig and Virginia, Francis Drurie turned and 
 looked at the life that was going on so briskly and
 
 Francis Sails Away 91 
 
 heartily around him. All the sails were spread to 
 the fair but gusty wind. The master stood beside 
 him, gazing up at the swaying spars and straining 
 canvas. Down in the waist, the mate walked fore and 
 aft, now and then halting to roar a word of caution 
 or command to the seamen who were busy at belaying 
 or coiling down sheets and halyards. 
 
 " It looks as if we had made a fair start," remarked 
 Francis. 
 
 " Aye, ye may well say it," replied the shipmaster. 
 He stepped close to the passenger and stared at him 
 with friendly eyes. " Sir," he said, " if I was a gentle- 
 man, an' loved by a young lady like the one that loves 
 ye, I'd never set a foot on seagoin' timber. Not for 
 all the gold in Spain, nor all the 'baccy in Virginia, I 
 wouldn't." 
 
 '' Gentle and simple, we have our work to do in the 
 world," replied Francis. " It is our work that makes 
 England's power." 
 
 The mariner smiled. "Aye, that be well enough 
 for men like me, who have to earn our bread," he 
 agreed. " But for gentry with grand houses, an' all 
 the heart can desire, I see no manner o' sense in 
 it." 
 
 " So you think I am a fool for my trouble?" in- 
 quired Francis,
 
 92 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 " Aye, sir, meaning no disrespect," replied the 
 other. 
 
 The gentleman smiled somewhat mournfully. " And 
 what do you say to the voyage I am to sail on from 
 Bristol north and west to a place called Hudson's 
 Bay?" 
 
 " I heard of it, ashore," said the mariner. " Them 
 seas be the worst in the world. If the French an' the 
 pirates don't get ye on the way, ye die with starvation 
 when ye get there. It is madness, sir, to my way o' 
 thinkin'." 
 
 " Then your way of thinking is a very poor way," 
 said Francis shortly, and turned his shoulder on the 
 discomfited shipmaster.
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 AT THE CAT AND RAT 
 
 THE brig Thrush made her voyage across the 
 Atlantic without accident. She weathered a half-gale 
 or two, and received several frights from questionable- 
 looking topsails and once she frankly admitted fear, 
 and crowded on canvas until the foam bubbled over 
 the gilded fiddles under her forepeak. 
 
 There was no doubt that the vessel with the long 
 topmasts and patched sails was following her at its 
 best speed. But the brig was a swift little craft; and 
 the excitement lasted only half a day. Perhaps it 
 would not have lasted so long as that if the master had 
 complied with his passenger's request to wait and en- 
 gage the stranger. 
 
 Francis Drurie had found time heavy on his hands 
 during the voyage, though he had applied himself 
 to the studies of navigation, seamanship, and the 
 French language. In spite of his work, he had never 
 been entirely free from the sense of loss and longing 
 that stirred, day and night, in his heart. 
 
 98
 
 94 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 In Bristol, however, this pain was greatly eased. On 
 solid land, among men and houses, the mind found 
 relief from that constant sense of the vastness of space 
 and separation from which there had been no escape 
 on shipboard. Here were quiet folk living quiet, 
 commonplace lives, even as the townspeople of King's 
 Haven. One had only to forget the weary days of 
 sailing, and Virginia did not seem so hopelessly far 
 away, after all. 
 
 Francis had his numerous boxes and bags carted 
 to a respectable tavern, situated at some distance from 
 the waterfront. He summoned the innkeeper, and 
 asked for the best room in the house. He was led to 
 it in a twinkling, and his luggage followed close on his 
 heels. 
 
 He had not brought his body-servant with him 
 from Virginia, because of the lack of accommodations 
 aboard the Thrush; but now he asked the innkeeper 
 to find a suitable man to serve him until the sailing 
 of the expedition. The fellow assured him that nothing 
 could be easier, excused himself for a minute or two, 
 and returned with a red-headed lad of about eighteen 
 years of age. 
 
 " Captain, this is my son Nicholas. Ye'll find him 
 honest an' willin', an' a wonder at lookin' after a 
 gentleman," he said.
 
 At the Cat and Rat 95 
 
 Francis made an elaborate toilet. Then, with his 
 servant's assistance, he found his way to the counting- 
 house of his father's agent. He cut such a fine figure 
 that he was admitted to the merchant's private room 
 without so much as being asked his name. Nick 
 followed him, carrying a massive despatch-box. The 
 merchant got to his feet, and bowed. 
 
 " What can I have the pleasure of doing for you, 
 sir ? " he inquired. 
 
 " My name is Francis Drurie," replied the colonial, 
 " and I have this boxful of money to leave in your care 
 for a short time, if you will be so obliging." 
 
 "Drurie? A Drurie of Virginia?" exclaimed the 
 merchant. 
 
 " Yes. Here is a letter to you, from my father," 
 replied Francis. 
 
 He produced the letter. The other broke the seal 
 and read it. 
 
 Francis did not get away from the merry and pros- 
 perous Master Albert Smithers, shipping-agent, com- 
 mission-merchant, and importer of corn and tobacco, 
 until he had promised to sup with him that night. 
 Returning to his inn, he again changed his clothes. 
 
 This time he put on a brown suit that had seen a 
 good deal of wear, but was neat and respectable ; 
 riding-boots in place of buckled shoes, and a serviceable
 
 96 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 hat, very modestly laced. Instead of his sword, he 
 hung a pistol to his waist, well back under the skirt of 
 his coat. Then, taking his cane in his hand, he told 
 Nicholas to lead the way to the Cat and Rat. 
 
 Nicholas stared at him, open-mouthed. 
 
 " Well, what is the trouble ? " asked Francis. 
 
 " Why, sir, it be a low, rough place, that Cat and 
 Rat," said the young fellow. " An' no place for a 
 gentleman like yer honour," he added. 
 
 " Nevertheless, I have business there," replied 
 Francis. " If you do not want to accompany me, I 
 shall have to find another servant. That would be a 
 pity, for you seem an honest, capable fellow." 
 
 " I'll go with 'e, sir," cried Nick hastily. 
 
 They went down to the harbour-side, and along it 
 for some distance. The way was full of interest for 
 Francis Drurie. Here was the din of deep-sea business 
 and adventure on either hand. On the one, the din 
 of the loading and unloading ships, and on the other 
 the din of the warehouses. With this lively human 
 side to it, this business of seafaring seemed a very 
 homely thing. 
 
 Here, all crowded together like sheep in a pen, 
 were more ships than Francis had seen before hi the 
 whole course of his life. King's Haven was a toy 
 harbour compared to this place. Strange men were
 
 At the Cat and Rat 97 
 
 on every side, and strange voices shouted from the 
 ships. There was a fellow as yellow as a lemon, with 
 rings of extraordinary size in his ears, and no more 
 clothing on him than shirt and trousers, hi spite of the 
 chill of the English air. Around his head he wore a 
 bright red cloth, and he smoked tobacco twisted up hi 
 a little stick the size of one's finger. 
 
 Like a number of others on the docks and in the 
 street, he seemed to have nothing to do but watch 
 other people work. He was a big fellow, lean as a 
 hound, but boned like a giant. As Francis and his 
 man passed him, picking their way through a clutter 
 of bales and puncheons, he stared at them with eyes 
 as black and inscrutable as pools of pitch. 
 
 This touched the Virginian's anger. It smacked of 
 insolence to him. Turning quickly, he met the fellow's 
 glance. 
 
 " Well, my friend, is there something you wish to 
 say to me ? " he asked. 
 
 Nicholas pulled at his elbow, and in the second or 
 two employed in shaking off the servant the yellow, 
 pirate-like mariner vanished among the piles of cargo- 
 stuff. The big man was gone, but so swiftly had he 
 slipped away that a wisp of tobacco smoke still hung 
 in the air where he had been. 
 
 Francis turned angrily upon his servant. " Why
 
 98 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 did you take hold of my arm ? " he asked, in a guarded 
 voice. " Is that the way servants are taught to treat 
 their masters in England ? " 
 
 " I did it for your own good, sir," answered Nicholas 
 boldly. 
 
 " You don't understand Bristol waterfront yet, sir, 
 or ye'd never pay any attention to a fellow like that. 
 He took to his heels. Well, sir, let us be thankful for 
 that. If he hadn't he'd ha' ripped his knife into ye as 
 quick as a wink." 
 
 " You may be right," said Francis. They moved 
 on, both keeping a sharp watch on every side. " But 
 what do you mean? " asked the master in a low voice. 
 " What cause was there for him to stick a knife into 
 me ? Or to run away from me, for that matter ? Who 
 is the fellow?" 
 
 " I do not know who he be, nor what he be, but the 
 first look at him told me that he was a dangerous 
 man," replied Nicholas. " This crowd be full o' 
 murderers an' pickpockets. Half o' them be no better 
 nor pirates." 
 
 For a few minutes Francis followed the lad in silence. 
 They turned up a narrow alley that twisted away from 
 the wharves, beyond the fringe of warehouses, and 
 lost itself in a place of toppling, decaying build- 
 ings.
 
 At the Cat and Rat 99 
 
 "Are we near the tavern?" asked Francis. He 
 whispered the simple question. 
 
 There was an air of ruin and hopelessness about the 
 shabby houses and narrow footway that chilled his 
 spirit and thrilled him with a vague but active appre- 
 hension. 
 
 In answer to the question Nicholas pointed to a 
 weather-beaten signboard that swung creakily from a 
 house about twenty paces away. 
 
 " There's the den," he said, turning a slow glance 
 of anxious inquiry upon his master's face. 
 
 " Wait here," said Drurie. " Or, at least, somewhere 
 within ear-shot of a call. If I do not appear in twenty 
 minutes' time you may either go home or come and 
 look for me." 
 
 " I will come an' look for ye, captain," said Nicholas. 
 
 Francis Drurie entered the low doorway of the Cat 
 and Rat, and peered anxiously round the gloomy 
 room in which he found himself. 
 
 It was a second or so before his eyes were suffi- 
 ciently accustomed to the dusk to make out anything. 
 Then he saw several small tables placed irregularly 
 about the flagged floor, and six rough fellows drinking 
 their liquor. The table closest to the door was un- 
 occupied. 
 
 He moved over to it, seated himself on a stool, and
 
 100 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 struck the table a brisk blow with the palm of his hand. 
 Nothing happened. He looked keenly round for a 
 sight of the tavern-keeper, and his eyes met the un- 
 wavering, black regard of the fellow of the lemon- 
 yellow face and red-bound head. 
 
 He started imperceptibly, and his heart drummed 
 in his breast, but he showed no sign of recognition or 
 alarm. He let his glance pass easily from the yellow 
 face; and there, in the back of the room, he saw a 
 small man, with a bald head, watching him intently. 
 There was a feeling of swiftly suspended conversation 
 in the air of the room. 
 
 Very deliberately, Francis knocked three times on 
 the table with the knuckles of his right hand, and four 
 times with his left. 
 
 The change in the atmosphere of the room was 
 startling in its suddenness, and yet wonderfully com- 
 forting. It was as if the air had cleared, quick as the 
 turn of a hand, of some threatening storm. The five 
 drinkers, who had sat like images, now raised their 
 mugs and glasses to their lips. The big fellow of the 
 yellow face shifted on his stool and puffed at his thin 
 roll of tobacco leaves. The little man with the bald 
 head came briskly forward from the back of the room 
 and asked, loudly and heartily, what it was the gentle- 
 man's pleasure to drink.
 
 At the Cat and Rat 101 
 
 Stepping close to Francis, and without waiting for 
 an answer, he whispered, " Topsil," and shot a glance 
 like a knife for sharpness into the young gentleman's 
 face. 
 
 " Tagantsil," replied Francis, smiling. 
 
 " Rum, did ye say, cap'n ? " asked the tavern- 
 keeper. 
 
 " Aye, rum and limes," replied Drurie. 
 
 The fellow was back in a minute with the liquor. 
 He served it untidily, but evidently as well as he could. 
 
 " If ye'd ask me to set down an' take a nip with ye, 
 cap'n, then we could talk a bit," he whispered, rubbing 
 the purple blotch on his cheek with a very dirty finger, 
 and winking knowingly at his customer. 
 
 "Will you join me in a glass, innkeeper?" in- 
 quired the other clearly. 
 
 The fellow accepted the invitation with a polite 
 but grotesque bow, and immediately drew up a stool 
 and seated himself close to Drurie. 
 
 "Well, what news?" asked the gentleman. 
 
 " He be gone on a voyage," replied the innkeeper. 
 " The king's men got too hot on his heels." 
 
 "For the old trouble?" asked Francis, eying the 
 fellow sharply. 
 
 " Aye. What else? " replied the little man. 
 
 " Where has he sailed to ? "
 
 102 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 " Northward into Scotland." 
 
 " And when do you expect him back ? " 
 
 " Not till the hounds that be after him forget a 
 bit." 
 
 " And what of Master Job Spark, of the Golden 
 Crown? " asked Francis, after a minute of reflection. 
 
 " Never heard o' the man," replied the other 
 promptly. 
 
 Drurie saw that there was nothing more to be 
 learned at present from mine host of the Cat and Rat. 
 He paid his score, promised to call again in the course 
 of a week or two, and stepped toward the door. 
 
 " Hold, cap'n, hold! " cried the innkeeper. " I have 
 another word to say to you." 
 
 The young man halted and turned, his temper 
 somewhat rubbed by the fellow's manner. 
 
 " Out with it," he said. 
 
 " Well, sir," said the innkeeper, " your friend, the 
 gentleman what we was talkin' of, owed me a trifle 
 o' money when he went away. He said as how ye'd 
 give it to me, without a question, if ye got here afore 
 he did." 
 
 This was such an apparent lie, and with such a low, 
 beggarly motive, that Drurie's anger leaped red-hot 
 within. Yet he controlled himself, and asked quietly 
 the amount of the debt,
 
 At the Cat and Rat 103 
 
 " Five yellow-boys, cap'n," replied the crafty fellow. 
 
 " If you can show me proof that my friend owes 
 you this money or ten times the amount I'll pay 
 it to you; but not a penny do you get from me other- 
 wise," said Francis firmly. 
 
 A sneering, brutal smile twisted the tavern-keeper's 
 face. He turned his head a little, so as to glance over 
 his shoulder, and yet keep the tail of his eye on Francis. 
 
 " Come, lads," he said softly. 
 
 The six fellows sprang from their stools and rushed 
 forward. Francis cleared his pistol, and presented it 
 at the tavern-keeper's head. The little rogue dodged 
 away behind the nearest table, pale as tallow. 
 
 Then the six hesitated, within leaping distance of 
 their prey, and then a wonderful thing happened. 
 The foremost ruffian had his arm up and back, ready 
 to throw his knife, when, quick as light, the big fellow 
 with the yellow face struck him in the side. The red 
 blood hopped out. Without an instant's pause the big 
 yellow fellow dashed his left fist into another's face, 
 his knife into another's side, and kicked a third in the 
 belly. 
 
 By this time Francis had turned his pistol about and 
 cracked the head of the last of his opponents. The 
 tavern-keeper crouched behind the table, all but 
 fainting with terror.
 
 104 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 The fellow with the yellow face tossed his knife 
 away, grabbed young Drurie by the wrist, and bolted 
 from the room. 
 
 Nicholas was waiting outside, with a rusty pistol 
 in his hand and an expression of neck-or-nothing on 
 his freckled face. 
 
 " Spare him he is my servant," cried Francis 
 to his rescuer; and to Nicholas, as he hurtled past, 
 " Don't shoot! Follow us! " 
 
 Turning sharp to the right, they raced into an alley 
 still narrower than the other, the amazing rescuer 
 still gripping Drurie's wrist. About a hundred yards 
 up, they came to a high, blind wall. 
 
 Here they halted. The big fellow released the 
 other's wrist. 
 
 " You follow me, cap'n, an' me save you," he said. 
 Then he laughed. " Me play fine trick on dem dirty 
 robbers," he said. 
 
 Now Nicholas was up with them, his pistol still in 
 readiness. Francis looked squarely into the glowing, 
 black eyes of the man who had just saved his 
 life. 
 
 " Why did you do it ? " he asked. 
 
 " Me got good reason," replied the other, whose talk 
 was as foreign as his eyes and complexion. " Me tell 
 you why when we get more safe."
 
 At the Cat and Rat 105 
 
 Francis grasped the fellow's hand, though it was wet 
 with blood. 
 
 " You have done me a turn I'll never forget," he 
 said earnestly. 
 
 The foreigner grinned and nodded his head violently. 
 Then he backed away a few steps, ran forward, and 
 sprang up the face of the wall. His big hands got a 
 grip on the top, and hi a moment he was up. Gripping 
 a knee on each side, he leaned down with extended 
 arms. 
 
 " Up you go," said Francis to Nicholas. 
 
 The lad jumped, and the man on the wall caught 
 his wrists and drew him up beside him. Francis 
 followed. 
 
 From the top of the wall they dropped into a small 
 and untidy stable-yard, hemmed in by the back of a 
 large, forsaken house an4 ramshackly sheds. 
 
 " You follow close," cautioned the man with the 
 yellow face.
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 THE MAN WITH THE YELLOW FACE 
 
 THE three fugitives from the Cat and Rat entered 
 the big house by way of a basement window. Then 
 into a hole into the flagged floor hidden by all kinds 
 of musty lumber dived the leader, followed close by the 
 gentleman and his servant. Down they stumbled at 
 a sharp incline, with blackness round them like a 
 blanket, and raw earth under foot. 
 
 Francis held the back of the big fellow's sash, and 
 Nicholas, hi his turn, clung to the skirts of his master's 
 coat. Francis had a small knife in his free hand. 
 Nicholas still gripped his pistol. 
 
 The leader halted. " Me make a light," he said. 
 
 Click, dick, chirped steel on flint. A spark jumped 
 into being, and up sprang a tiny flame. Francis hid 
 his knife in his breast. The big fellow fumbled about. 
 In a second the gleam of a candle flared in the 
 darkness. 
 
 They were in a tiny chamber walled by stone on 
 two sides and on two by timber. In one corner was a 
 
 106
 
 The Man with the Yellow Face 107 
 
 hearth. The earthen floor was partly covered with 
 rugs. A number of sea-chests and canvas bags lay 
 about, and on the walls hung a crucifix, a fine long 
 sword in a scabbard of black-and-gold, and a for- 
 midable row of cutlases and pistols. 
 
 The man with the yellow face lit two more candles. 
 
 " You wait one minute," he said. " Pedro fix 
 hisself quick." 
 
 First of all, he washed the blood from his hands and 
 threw the discoloured water into the ashes on the hearth. 
 Then he tore off his cotton shirt, disclosing a torso 
 roped with long muscles and marked out in half a 
 dozen places with puckered scars. He drew a shirt of 
 fine silk from one of the boxes and donned it in a 
 twinkling. He changed his ragged trousers for fine 
 breeches, silk stockings, and high boots. From a tiny 
 vial he rubbed something on his face and neck that 
 changed his colour from that of a ripe lemon to that 
 of an Arab. Then he powdered his hair and put on a 
 fine blue coat. 
 
 " Me look quite like Spanish gentleman, name 
 Cap'n Cremona, now," said Pedro, showing his white 
 teeth in a grin. 
 
 Francis smiled and nodded; Nicholas only gaped. 
 
 Pedro belted the long sword to his side and clapped 
 on his head a black hat heavily laced with gold, Then
 
 108 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 he made up a bundle of the crucifix, a little bag of 
 soft leather, two of the pistols, and a few shirts and 
 stockings. He heaped the straw from the two couches 
 against one of the wooden walls, tossed dry clothing 
 around it, and took one of the candles in his hand. 
 
 " What do you mean to do ? " asked Francis anx- 
 iously. 
 
 " Set fire," replied Pedro coolly. " Den nobody 
 fin' dis place where Hodge an' Big Pedro hide so 
 long." 
 
 "Hodge? What do you know of Hodge?" asked 
 Francis excitedly. 
 
 " You know an' me know," he said. He leaned to 
 the gentleman's ear and whispered: "Hodge! Bah! 
 Him your frien' in Virgin Richard Dariza. Dem 
 fools don't know. Him my master Richard Dariza." 
 
 " Were you his servant ? " cried Francis, again 
 grasping the fellow's hand. 
 
 "Yes. Me tell you soon," replied Pedro. He 
 stooped and touched the flame of the candle to the 
 straw. 
 
 " Stop. Half the city will burn," cried Francis. 
 
 Pedro shook his head. "No win'. Pretty safe. 
 Just burn one or two house, me think," he replied. 
 " Now you come quick," he added, pulling open a door 
 in one of the wooden walls.
 
 The Man with the Yellow Face 109 
 
 A few moments later the three stood in a quiet, 
 narrow street. 
 
 Pedro pointed at Nicholas. " Him good, honest 
 boy ? " he asked. 
 
 " Yes, he is honest and trusty," replied Francis. 
 He put his hand on the lad's shoulder. " Do you 
 understand ? Not a word of this to any one," he said. 
 " We did not go to the Cat and Rat. We have never 
 so much as heard the name of the place." 
 
 Nicholas looked terribly frightened. " Ye can trust 
 me, sir," he stammered. " I be your trusty servant, sir." 
 
 " That good," said Pedro. He tapped his broad 
 chest. " An' me Cap'n Drurie's frien', name Cap'n 
 Cremona," he added. 
 
 " Remember that," said Francis to Nicholas. 
 
 They reached Drurie's respectable hotel hi good 
 order, though by this time a slim plume of black 
 streamed to the sky from down harbour- way, and the 
 clanging of bells and roar of voices came faintly to 
 them on the spring air. 
 
 The two gentlemen walked arm-in-arm, and Nicholas 
 at their heels with the bundle. They halted and turned 
 at the doorway of the inn and gazed at the smoke in 
 the sky. 
 
 " One big fire, I think," remarked Cremona, with 
 dignified concern hi his voice.
 
 110 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 Captain Cremona, or Big Pedro, or whatever you 
 want to call him, told Francis Drurie a story that 
 explained his amazing behaviour. 
 
 Cremona had been born in England some forty 
 years ago, of Portuguese parents. He had struggled 
 through a rough and neglected childhood. He had 
 been shipped to sea at the age of twelve, and for 
 years had been treated worse than a dog. 
 
 After that he had sailed many voyages as an able 
 seaman. For several years he had cruised in the West 
 India islands. " Good money in dem waters," he 
 explained, with a reminiscent smile. Later he had 
 been impressed into the royal service; and it was during 
 this period of his career that he had come to know 
 and love Richard Dariza. 
 
 He was the young lieutenant's servant aboard the 
 Scorpion for two years. Richard had always treated 
 him kindly and had saved him from more than one 
 flogging. They had been in tight corners together, 
 risking their lives side by side. Then the trouble had 
 come. 
 
 A senior officer, drunk, had insulted Dariza. Dariza 
 had retorted by calling him a liar. A duel had followed, 
 with fatal results to the senior officer. This man 
 happened to be of a very powerful family; and so the 
 young lieutenant, assisted by all the officers of his
 
 The Man with the Yellow Face 111 
 
 own ship, vanished from the world that had known 
 him. 
 
 His servant had vanished with him. The two had 
 worked on the docks of many cities together as com- 
 rades, and had sailed several voyages in the same 
 ships. They had made a living, and had done nothing 
 worse than a trifle of smuggling. 
 
 Forced by fear of the law to avoid the honester 
 houses of entertainment in Bristol, they had become 
 connected with the questionable gang that frequented 
 the Cat and Rat. The tavern-keeper, Mull by name, 
 was a sharp-witted fellow, and had seen at a glance 
 that Richard was no common sailor. He had begun 
 immediately to show the young man a great deal of 
 attention, and soon professed a warm regard for him. 
 Richard had believed in the fellow's professions for 
 some time. 
 
 Cremona never had, however. Richard had trusted 
 Mull to a certain extent, but never so far as to tell 
 him the true cause of his fall in the world, or anything 
 definite of his old home, or the true relation existing 
 between himself and Pedro. 
 
 In fact, the gang thought that they were but chance 
 acquaintances of a voyage or two. Richard had asked 
 Mull to find a trusty shipmaster, bound for Virginia, 
 to carry a letter for him; and Mull had recommended
 
 112 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 the master of the Golden Crown, who was not of the 
 gang, but whom he knew slightly. Both Richard and 
 Pedro had talked to the old mariner. He was honest, 
 beyond a doubt. A fever had kept Richard in Bristol 
 for more than a month, and Pedro had remained, 
 too. 
 
 They had made themselves a hiding-place unknown 
 even to Mull. Men had come for Richard to the Cat 
 and Rat; but Mull had put them off with crafty lies. 
 For this service Richard had paid him good money. 
 
 At least Mull had said the men had come. Pedro 
 did not believe him. If it was true, Mull would have 
 learned the fugitive's real name a thing that had 
 not happened. But at the time, Pedro had not reasoned 
 so clearly. 
 
 Soon, Mull had more talk of officers of the law 
 prowling about. Richard then slipped away on a 
 small coasting schooner, leaving his faithful com- 
 panion behind him. He himself had begun to distrust 
 the sincerity of Mull's friendship. Pedro had re- 
 mained in Bristol and in close touch with the Cat and 
 Rat, on the chance that the master of the Golden 
 Crown might return with an answer to the letter, or 
 that Francis Drurie might answer it in person. 
 
 The possibility of his friend's arrival had troubled 
 Richard greatly ever since he had begun to doubt
 
 The Man with the Yellow Face 113 
 
 the honesty of Mull's intentions. And ever since 
 Richard's departure Pedro had kept a bright eye on 
 Master Mull. Yet not quite bright enough, for one 
 day Mull had slipped six golden coins into his hand. 
 
 " 'Tis your share o' a trifle we took last night," 
 Mull had whispered. " Though ye were not on hand 
 to help, ye be one o' the gang." 
 
 Then Pedro had heard how Master Job Spark had 
 been robbed of one hundred pounds. So Pedro had 
 kept a still sharper lookout after that, and at last had 
 spotted Drurie and known him instantly for Richard's 
 friend. He had hurried to the tavern so as to be on 
 hand in case of need. 
 
 Francis Drurie could find no adequate expression 
 for the admiration and gratitude that glowed within 
 him toward Cremona. He shook the big fellow's 
 hand. He clapped him on the back. He drank his 
 health in the best wine in the house, and called him 
 his very dear friend. He offered him half of every- 
 thing he had and a berth as a gentleman adventurer 
 to Hudson's Bay. 
 
 Cremona grinned expansively, swallowed the good 
 wine in quantity, and stuck out his chest. " Me a 
 gentleman," he said. " Well, that all right me do 
 right thing for frien's. Me don't want money. Me 
 don't go to Hudson Bay with you no, not now.
 
 114 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 Some day nex' voyage yes. Now, Cap'n Cre- 
 mona go look for his old master his Men' an' 
 tell him how you come an' fine fight we make. When 
 you get back from big voyage, we be here in dis same 
 room." 
 
 " You are the trustiest heart in the world," cried 
 Francis. 
 
 Nicholas was called up and told enough to set his 
 mind at rest, but not enough to endanger any one 
 should he prove less honest than he seemed. 
 
 A room near Drurie's was engaged for Cremona, 
 for the big fellow had accepted the other's invitation 
 to remain in Bristol as his guest for a few days. Then 
 he would start north to find Richard, knowing in what 
 ports to look for him. 
 
 Francis dressed again in his finest clothes. By now 
 it was dusk, and Nicholas had lighted the candles. 
 The landlord came to the door and said that a gentle- 
 man had called to see Captain Drurie. 
 
 Master Smithers was shown up. " I am a few 
 minutes late," he said. " There is a fire down at the 
 water-front, and I was a little anxious. But the ware- 
 houses are safe. It has been confined to four or five 
 buildings that were worse than worthless, in that they 
 sheltered some of the vilest characters of the city." 
 
 "I am glad to hear that you suffered no loss,"
 
 The Man with the Yellow Face 115 
 
 replied Francis. Then he presented his friend Captain 
 Cremona to Master Smithers. 
 
 They had up another bottle of wine. 
 
 " And how have you enjoyed your first six hours in 
 Bristol?" asked Smithers. 
 
 " I have had a very pleasant and interesting time," 
 replied Francis, smiling at Cremona. 
 
 Smithers turned to Cremona with a bow. " I trust 
 you are free to join us at supper, captain," he said. 
 
 " Yes, me free. Thank you very large," replied the 
 giant.
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 IN WHICH A SPANISH GENTLEMAN ARRIVES IN VIRGINIA 
 
 FOR three days Cremona lived with Francis Drurie, 
 and each day he rose higher in the Virginian's regard. 
 Then he went away, cheerful and full of the great 
 things they should do when next they met. He would 
 take no money for either himself or Richard, but 
 pressed upon Francis one of his fine pistols. 
 
 Francis heard or saw nothing more of the rascally 
 Mull during his short stay in Bristol; but he avoided 
 the harbourside, save when accompanied by a friend 
 or two. He heard not so much as a word of the dead 
 men in the Cat and Rat. They were fellows of no 
 account, and perchance the authorities considered them 
 better dead than alive. These were fine times for 
 people with true friends and long knives but not 
 so fine for others. 
 
 Francis wrote five letters during his sojourn in 
 Bristol; one to Isobel which was not sealed and 
 handed over to Master Smithers until the very day of 
 
 116
 
 A Spanish Gentleman Arrives 117 
 
 sailing on the great voyage and the others to his 
 father, his mother, Fairwood of Fairwood Manor, and 
 Dariza of Hopeland. 
 
 As his days and evenings were fully occupied by 
 work in connection with the expedition, and by social 
 engagements with people interested in the Royal 
 Company, in which he was now an officer, he was forced 
 to toil at his letter- writing in the small hours of the 
 morning, thereby winning a great reputation for schol- 
 arship in the eyes of his servant Nicholas. Having 
 decided, after careful reflection, that there was no 
 reason for keeping a knowledge of Richard's existence 
 from Isobel, he told her that he had happened upon a 
 man who had been Richard's servant, omitting the 
 details of the meeting, had heard that Richard was 
 safe and in good health, and hoped to discover him 
 on his return from Hudson's Bay. To Mr. Dariza 
 he treated the subject at greater length, though with 
 no more particularity. 
 
 There were several great personages interested in 
 the expedition, and by these young Drurie was treated 
 with flattering consideration. The wealthy baronet 
 who had known the captain in the old days had given 
 Francis a great name as a soldier. More to the young 
 man's taste than the great folk, however, were the 
 gentlemen who, like himself, intended risking their
 
 118 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 lives as well as their money in the expedition. There 
 were a dozen of these in all, including himself and not 
 counting the hired sailing-masters. 
 
 The daring little fleet consisted of four vessels. 
 Drurie's was the Brave Adventure, a stout craft of 
 something over one hundred and fifty tons, two-masted, 
 square-rigged on the fore, and with boom and gaff- 
 topsail on the main. In addition, she could spread 
 three jibs, staysails between the fore and main, stunsails, 
 and a little spinnaker. 
 
 Any one with half an eye for such things could see 
 that she would be a sweet sailer. She was heavily 
 ironed, as well as heavily canvased for her size. So 
 quickly does pride in one's ship spring in the heart 
 that Francis had not been aboard the Brave Adventure 
 twice before he thought her the finest craft in the 
 port of Bristol. On May Day, early in the morning, 
 the little ships drifted out, one by one, amid the cheering 
 of sailors and landsmen, the booming of cannon, and 
 the flapping of flags. 
 
 Back in Virginia the humdrum round of quiet 
 pleasures and mild excitements, such as hunting and 
 dancing, was disturbed for our friends of the three 
 plantations soon after Francis Drurie's departure. 
 Early in April Mr. Dariza became, of a sudden,
 
 A Spanish Gentleman Arrives 119 
 
 flighty in his mind. His daughter and his body-servant 
 were the first to notice it. 
 
 They did their best to keep knowledge of it from 
 others, and were successful to a certain extent. The 
 first hint received by Isobel and the servant of the 
 unhinged condition of the old gentleman's mind was 
 in this manner. Dariza called for the girl early one 
 morning, before he was out of bed. Max was in the 
 room, preparing the razor for his master's shave. 
 
 "When d'ye expect Dick?" asked the frail old 
 gentleman. 
 
 "Dick?" cried the girl faintly, her face going 
 white as paper. 
 
 " Aye, Dick. He wrote that he would soon be 
 home and would stay with us for a month or two," 
 replied her father. 
 
 Max let the razor fall to the floor. 
 
 Isobel went to the side of the bed and took her 
 father's hands in hers. " I do not expect him before 
 June," she said. 
 
 Dariza sank back on his pillow without a word. 
 That morning he did not get up for breakfast. Later 
 in the day he talked sanely and kindly to the girl about 
 Francis Drurie. In the evening, however, after he 
 had retired, he called his son's name three times. 
 
 A few days after that he complained of feeling too
 
 120 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 tired to leave his bed. A doctor was brought from 
 King's Haven the best in the colony. He said that 
 Mr. Dariza had a fever in his blood; so he drew off 
 a considerable quantity of blood, and a deal of the 
 fever with it, he said, mixed a bottle of evil- tasting 
 doses, dined with Isobel, and jogged home in time for 
 supper. 
 
 It was always in the early morning or at night that 
 Dariza showed signs of a weakening mind. During 
 the height of the day he talked sanely enough of things 
 great and small. But the fever in his blood did not 
 cool. He kept to his bed for more than a week after 
 the doctor's visit and then it was the most unex- 
 pected and amazing incident that got him out of it. 
 
 Isobel was in her room, kneeling at a window that 
 faced the east the same window at which Francis 
 had gazed from the lawn on the magic morning. She 
 was dreaming of that morning now, with tears in her 
 eyes. A moment before she had been praying a 
 wordless, almost unconscious prayer the petition of a 
 frightened and longing heart for the safety of its mate. 
 
 Now peace was hers, as if her prayer had been 
 answered. With the vague fear quiet, she called the 
 image of her distant lover to her, across those tumbling 
 wastes of sea, turned time back, and lived again that 
 marvellous night and morning. She was disturbed by
 
 A Spanish Gentleman Arrives 
 
 the sound of trotting hoofs and rolling wheels. The 
 dear visions drifted from her eyes. She stood up and 
 looked indifferently from the window. 
 
 She saw a shabby, mud-bespattered carriage draw 
 up beside the three stone steps at the foot of the ter- 
 raced lawn. The horses, as well as the carriage, were 
 unknown to her. Perhaps it was the doctor, travelling 
 the muddy roads hi a hired conveyance to save his 
 own. She dried her eyes swiftly and ran down to the 
 hall. The old butler and Max were already there, and 
 the door was open. 
 
 Isobel and the two old servants stood on the gallery 
 and looked out, at a loss to know what to do, dis- 
 quieted and yet as inactive as if under a spell. They 
 saw the driver descend from the box, open the carriage 
 door, and pull from the interior two large boxes. 
 
 Then a tall gentleman in a long black cloak and 
 wide black hat, stepped from the darkness into the 
 failing sunshine. 
 
 He looked about him; and it was as if the group 
 on the gallery felt the quick glance that they could not 
 see. With a gesture of the hand toward the boxes, and a 
 toss back of the cloak that brought to view a scarlet 
 lining, he advanced deliberately on the house. 
 
 "Who can it be?" whispered Isobel, strangely 
 agitated.
 
 122 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 "Th' debbel hisself, I reckon," muttered the 
 butler. 
 
 Now the stranger bowed and swooped his great 
 hat from his head, disclosing to the fascinated regard 
 of the group on the gallery a thin, dark face, eyes like 
 black crystals, and an elaborate black wig. 
 
 The two old servants drew back, leaving their 
 mistress alone at the top of the gallery steps. The 
 stranger halted at the foot of the steps and again 
 bowed impressively, hat in hand. 
 
 " Do you wish to see my father, sir? " asked Isobel 
 falteringly. 
 
 " Ah, beyond a doubt. That is, if I have the honour 
 to address the daughter of the Senor Ricardo Alcazardo 
 da Riza," returned the gentleman, smiling a slow, 
 wonderful smile that told of hope, joy, doubt, and 
 courage. It was such a remarkable smile that the girl 
 became more agitated than ever. 
 
 " Yes," she said, staring at the stranger with startled 
 eyes. 
 
 He ascended the steps and stood beside her. " My 
 name is Josef Alcazardo," he said tenderly. And 
 then : " Lift a great care from my heart by telling me 
 that your beloved father is in good health," he added 
 softly, anxiously. 
 
 " You are a friend of his, perhaps? Please come in,
 
 A Spanish Gentleman Arrives 123 
 
 sir," said Isobel, with something of her usual com- 
 posure. 
 
 *' Yes," replied Josef Alcazardo. He followed the 
 girl into the hall. His black eyes darted this way and 
 that and seemed to penetrate into the surrounding 
 rooms. 
 
 The girl beckoned to the old butler, who had re- 
 treated to the threshold of the dining-room door. 
 
 " Show this gentleman to the library," she said. 
 She turned to Alcazardo and looked him fairly and 
 searchingly in the face. He received the scrutiny with 
 steady eyes and a pensive smile. " My father is not 
 well. I will tell him that the Sefior Josef Alcazardo is 
 here." 
 
 The stranger looked as if he were about to speak 
 to offer some suggestion. The girl noticed this, and 
 waited. " Yes, tell him so. Tell him I regret his 
 illness and that I long to clasp his hand," said 
 Alcazardo haltingly. 
 
 Isobel hurried to her father's room and found Max 
 already there. Dariza was sitting up in the bed, 
 with an expression of keen anxiety on his haggard 
 face. 
 
 " Who is it ? " he asked. " Who has come to see 
 me? Can it be some evil tidings of Dick or of 
 Frank Drurie ? "
 
 124 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 " I do not know. His name is Josef Alcazardo," 
 replied the girl. 
 
 "Alcazardo! Heaven help me!" cried Dariza, 
 with something of distress, but more of incredulity 
 in his voice. 
 
 Isobel turned to Max. " Tell the gentleman to go 
 away. Tell him that he cannot see the master," she 
 said. 
 
 "No! Wait! Hold, fellow! " cried Dariza. "Tell 
 him to come up, whoever he is. Ill or well, why should 
 I fear Josef Alcazardo ? " 
 
 The servant left the room. 
 
 Isobel took her father's hands in hers. "Is he an 
 enemy an old enemy? " she asked. 
 
 " What have I to do with enmity or with fear? " 
 returned the old man unsteadily. " My days are 
 numbered; but, if need be, Ricardo da Riza can still 
 strike. Leave the room, my dear, and let me speak 
 alone to this belated visitor." 
 
 " I am afraid," whispered the girl. 
 
 Dariza pointed at a pistol that lay on the table close 
 to his hand, between a glass of water and the bottle 
 of doctor's stuff. 
 
 " You need not fear," he said significantly. 
 
 Isobel went into the passage. The stranger passed 
 her with a bow, entered the bedroom and closed the
 
 A Spanish Gentleman Arrives 125 
 
 door behind him. The girl and Max stood close to 
 the threshold, listening anxiously. The girl listened 
 for the sound of a pistol-shot the old servant for 
 he knew not what. They could hear nothing. 
 
 So they waited for ten to fifteen minutes; then, 
 unable to stand the suspense any longer, Isobel opened 
 the door. She found her father sitting up and the 
 stranger in an armchair pulled close to the bed. Al- 
 cazardo was leaning forward, his right hand clasped 
 in that of Dariza. The invalid's cheeks were flushed 
 and his eyes were shining. 
 
 The girl stood on the threshold, staring with open 
 amazement at the friendly scene. Both men looked up. 
 
 " Come in, my dear," said her father. " Come here 
 and welcome my long-estranged brother your Uncle 
 Josef to Hopeland." 
 
 Isobel did not move, but continued to gaze at the 
 two in anxious bewilderment. What did it mean? 
 Had her poor father gone entirely mad? What wild 
 talk was this of a brother from one who had turned 
 his back on every member of his family or had their 
 backs turned upon him, forty years ago ? 
 
 "Come," said Dariza. "You must make your 
 uncle welcome. He has put himself to a great deal of 
 trouble and expense to find me. His heart is right. 
 You have nothing to fear, Isobel."
 
 126 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 Alcazardo arose from his chair and moved forward, 
 smiling gently and affectionately, his hand extended. 
 " Yes, you must welcome me, my dear little kins- 
 woman," he said. " And as for fear what have you 
 to fear from your peaceful old Uncle Josef ? " 
 
 The girl placed her hand in his, and he raised it 
 gallantly to his lips. 
 
 " Now, that is better," he said. " We shall soon be 
 fast friends, I see. And why not? I have come a 
 long journey to find your dear father, that a mistake 
 an estrangement of our youth might not go to our 
 graves with us. Yes, I tremble at that thought. It 
 was a mad thing a blind, devilish thing and the 
 work of others. But let it die ! Let it be forgotten, as 
 it has been forgiven by both of us." 
 
 He patted the girl on the shoulder and smiled tenderly 
 at the gentleman in the bed. 
 
 " Yes, let it be forgotten," said Dariza. " Thank 
 Heaven you are here, Josef, and that we are brothers 
 again. Thank Heaven you could explain the thing 
 and had the kind heart to travel all this way to do so." 
 He lay back on his pillows, breathing quickly. 
 
 His brother was at his side in a moment, raising his 
 head a little with one arm and holding the glass of 
 water to his lips. At sight of that quick tenderness, 
 the girl's heart thrust away all doubt and fear of him.
 
 A Spanish Gentleman Arrives 127 
 
 Dariza was better in a moment. It had been nothing 
 but a little pain in the side. But Alcazardo would not 
 let him sit up again. 
 
 " What was the dreadful misunderstanding ? " asked 
 Isobel. 
 
 " You could make nothing of it, even if we told 
 you," said Alcazardo. " The events yes, and the 
 persons who were at the bottom of it, are all dead 
 now. It had to do with great people and small people, 
 my dear little girl even with a king, and armies, 
 and all manner of uncomfortable things. But the 
 king is dead, now, and the liars who made the trouble 
 are dead and here am I sitting by my brother's 
 bed, very much at peace. So worry no more about the 
 old mistake, my dear." 
 
 Sefior Alcazardo seemed to act like a tonic on Mr. 
 Dariza. Within an hour of his arrival, his brother 
 was dressed and down-stairs. A servant was sent over 
 to Fairwood Manor to invite Mr. Fairwood to supper. 
 A stir of activity and curiosity went through the house 
 and offices, and even back to the quarters of the field- 
 hands, and the servants babbled excitedly over the 
 sudden and unexpected appearance of a gentleman 
 who was the master's brother, and the mistress's 
 uncle, and yet whose name and of whose existence 
 they had never before heard.
 
 128 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 Mr. Fairwood came to supper. When he heard the 
 remarkable news from his brother-in-law, he swore 
 his astonishment and incredulity. When he was 
 presented to the senor, he stared at him aghast. 
 
 Then he turned angrily upon Dariza. " See here, 
 Dick, I'll be hanged if I like this! " he exclaimed. 
 
 " What is it that you don't like, my dear Henry," 
 asked Dariza. 
 
 " Oh, of course it is correct and above-board, if 
 you say so," replied Fairwood. " If you say he is 
 your brother, why, he must be. But I've always been 
 led to believe that they were all a bad lot; and I'll 
 be hanged if I like to be forced into so sudden a friend- 
 ship with a gentleman I don't know and don't like the 
 looks of." 
 
 Mr. Dariza and Isobel were horrified by the other's 
 frankness, and could not find a word to say or the 
 courage to look at Alcazardo. 
 
 Alcazardo's reply, however, amazed them even more 
 than Fairwood's attack. 
 
 " There can be no doubt of my kinship with your 
 friend Richard," he said quietly, with sad eyes turned 
 upon the bluff Virginian. 
 
 " But I do not blame you for feeling somewhat 
 shaken and angered by this sudden call upon you to 
 take an utter stranger aye, and a foreigner by the
 
 A Spanish Gentleman Arrives 129 
 
 hand," he continued. " You have heard evil things 
 of this Spanish family. Well, sir, many of those things 
 are true. Richard, noble soul, left his lands and his 
 country rather than join in the evil. I was young then, 
 and believed the lies that were told to me. But now 
 I know my mistake, and Richard knows how it came 
 about. I can only hope, sir, that you will soon under- 
 stand me, and feel no longer any uneasiness about 
 taking my hand." 
 
 Mr. Dariza was delighted and amazed at this 
 speech. Forty years ago Josef had shown no signs of 
 this Christian spirit. Far from it. 
 
 Mr. Fairwood did not seem to be so well pleased, 
 though he was completely disarmed by the Spaniard's 
 attitude. " Rip me, but you talk more like a saint than 
 a don," he grumbled. 
 
 If any one had been watching Alcazardo at that 
 moment, he would have seen a flicker of apprehension 
 pass across the black eyes. 
 
 The supper passed off very well. Alcazardo told 
 some capital stories, witty enough for Mr. Fairwood and 
 delicate enough for Isobel. It was quite evident that, 
 though a man of the world, he was possessed of a 
 very tender heart. After supper he sang. 
 
 For Mr. Fairwood, he rendered an English hunting- 
 song with such dash and vigour that the Virginian
 
 130 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 forgot his distrust so far as to join in the chorus. For 
 Isobel and his brother he sang a plaintive Spanish 
 love song that touched them both to tears. Then he ex- 
 cused himself for a moment, left the room, and pres- 
 ently returned with a violin. 
 
 He was dressed in a wine-red coat and breeches, 
 and a long waistcoat of white and gold. Instead of 
 showing his own hair, he wore a fine black wig that 
 reached to his shoulders. As he stood, tall and slen- 
 der, with his back to the hearth and the candles 
 on the chimney-piece, he looked handsome and sinis- 
 ter. He raised the violin to his breast and nestled 
 his chin to it. The bow touched the strings inquir- 
 ingly. 
 
 Then his right hand began to weave and lift, flicker 
 and sink, about the dark and glowing instrument, and 
 into the silent room flooded such a wonder of melody 
 that Dariza forgot his sorrow and Isobel her longing, 
 and the sturdy Fairwood sat back in his chair like a 
 man in a trance. 
 
 Now, without a pause or break, the music changed in 
 tone and rang louder. Then days of riding and fighting 
 came back to Dariza, and Fairwood remembered the 
 two years in which he had served as a cornet in an 
 English cavalry regiment, and Isobel saw her lover 
 adventuring on the sea, with his sword at his side,
 
 A Spanish Gentleman Arrives 131 
 
 and powder-smoke on the water, and the black ship 
 of the enemy settling to leeward. It was the psalm 
 of valour, by magic purged of fear and regret. And 
 again the music changed. 
 
 Dariza covered his face with his thin hands. Fair- 
 wood puckered his brows, his heart turning through 
 dusky ways after faces long forgotten. 
 
 And the girl remembered again the wastes of tum- 
 bling sea between this bright room and her young 
 lover. 
 
 Next day, the gentlemen of Admiral's Pride came to 
 Hopeland to pay their respects to Sefior Alcazardo. 
 They had already heard something about him from 
 Henry Fairwood; and the only complimentary thing 
 Fairwood had said was, " He plays the fiddle like the 
 devil himself." 
 
 So they eyed the stranger keenly, even while they 
 shook his hand. The captain wondered what the 
 fellow was after. It was his opinion that a man who 
 has let a mistake go uncorrected for a matter of forty 
 years does not travel from Spam to Virginia, at 
 last, for no more substantial reason than to set it 
 right. 
 
 His first thought was that Alcazardo wanted money. 
 No doubt the fellow had heard, in some roundabout 
 way, that his estranged brother was very comfortably
 
 132 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 situated. But the captain was not so crude in his 
 methods as Mr. Fairwood. With a bland smile, and 
 a question now and then, he went to work to discover 
 the Spaniard's reason for visiting Virginia.
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 ISOBEL SAILS AWAY 
 
 CAPTAIN DRURIE learned, by his questions and obser- 
 vation, that Alcazardo was in no need of money. He 
 was handsomely outfitted with both clothing and 
 jewelry, and had a store of gold coins with which he 
 was remarkably free. 
 
 He had crossed the sea without a servant. That 
 seemed strange to every one. The Spaniard said very 
 little about himself, and seemed to be one of the most 
 modest of men; but, in the course of the first few days 
 of his visit, he let people know that he was the owner of 
 a house in Madrid, and of another in the country. 
 
 Questioned briefly by Dariza, he said that he held 
 none of the old family possessions that all those lands 
 and houses had been squandered by the other brothers 
 but that his own little property represented a lifetime 
 of activity in the service of his country. All of which 
 sounded very fine to everybody but Henry Fair- 
 wood. 
 
 He, doubting gentleman, did not believe a word of 
 133
 
 134 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 it, and ignored the visitor completely and loftily except 
 on such occasions as the violin was at work. One 
 might continue to hate and distrust Alcazardo even 
 when he was making music; but no one could ignore 
 him then. He was a marvel with the fiddle and even 
 Mr. Fairwood had to admit it. 
 
 Isobel was attracted by her new uncle, although 
 she could not bring herself to like his face. His eyes, 
 at times, contained an inner, sinister light that chilled 
 her to the heart in spite of her knowledge of his gentle- 
 ness. That he was gentle there could be no doubt. 
 The girl had seen him flinch at the sight of a driver 
 lashing a stubborn horse. 
 
 He devoted himself to his brother's service, cheering 
 him with entertaining conversation, reading aloud to 
 him, and even watching beside his bed at night on 
 more than one occasion. 
 
 His manner was forbearing with every one. Even 
 to the servants he showed a consideration that was 
 charming to see in spite of which not one of them 
 had a good word for him. Indeed, the old butler and 
 Max hated and feared him to such an extent that their 
 black faces faded to the hue of ashes whenever he 
 looked at them. 
 
 Isobel admired him and believed in him, in spite 
 of the sinister light she sometimes caught in his glance,
 
 Isobel Sails Away 135 
 
 the whispering of the servants, and Uncle Henry's 
 snorts of scorn. She felt that she and her father under- 
 stood him and that the others did not. The captain 
 and John were almost as suspicious of him as were 
 Uncle Henry and the butler and the valet. But this, 
 she said, was simply because they were men. 
 
 Men, no matter of what colour or class, always 
 look askance at other men of a different kind than 
 themselves, or of a kind to which they are not accus- 
 tomed. Had Alcazardo been an Englishman, and 
 skilled in fox-hunting instead of in violin- playing, and 
 loud of voice instead of quiet, the foolish men would 
 have accepted him with delight. She said that this was 
 proved by the fact that Mrs. Drurie admired the senor. 
 
 To tell the truth, Isobel had, as far as she could see, 
 very good reasons for holding Josef Alcazardo in high 
 esteem. His attitude toward her was one of unfailing 
 affection and consideration; and one day, finding her 
 alone in the library, he had talked to her of Francis 
 Drurie. 
 
 This alone would have been enough to win the girl's 
 favour, for his talk had been so hopeful, so tender, and 
 so congratulatory, that she had quite forgotten the 
 sinister gleam in his eyes. He, who had never set 
 eyes on Francis, had talked of him with understanding 
 and admiration.
 
 136 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 As for poor Mr. Dariza, he fairly doted on the Sefior 
 Josef Alcazardo. It was a wonder even to Isobel, to 
 see and hear her father for she could not forget the 
 way he had first received the news of the Spaniard's 
 arrival. Morning, noon, and night, he was ever eager 
 to listen to Josef. Josef's presence in the house seemed 
 to keep the good gentleman in a continual flutter of 
 pleasurable excitement. Weak and worn as he was, 
 he would not stay in his bed even long enough to have 
 his breakfast there. No, he must be up and at his 
 post, so as not to miss a word or gesture of the admirable 
 Josef. 
 
 The thing was amazing and far from sane. The 
 fact that the poor gentleman no longer asked about 
 Dick was a sign that this absorption in Alcazardo was 
 largely due to the flighty state of his mind. The 
 flightiness had shifted, that was all. 
 
 Alcazardo saw and understood, and acted accord- 
 ingly. He had suspected his brother's mental derange- 
 ment in the first moment of their meeting. Now he 
 was sure of it, and knew how to play upon the weaken- 
 ing heart and mind even as upon the slender strings 
 and frail wood of his violin. 
 
 Though the girl was sane enough, he read her 
 weakness, too. Her weakness was entirely of the 
 heart and in the wound he saw the image of a
 
 Isobel Sails Away 137 
 
 certain young gentleman adventurer named Francis 
 Drurie. So, to the girl, he often spoke of the brave 
 young fellow who was, even now, facing peril on the 
 deep for the sake of the woman he loved; but he 
 always spoke hopefully, as if of every hundred men 
 who went seafaring a hundred returned. 
 
 " I know the sea," he would say. " I have sailed 
 many a voyage myself, here and there." And once, 
 to cheer her out of an anxious mood, he bade her 
 consider the master and the butler of Admiral's Pride. 
 " They have weathered many a storm and many a 
 battle," he said, " and yet the captain has suffered 
 nothing worse than a bullet in the leg and the old 
 gunner's-mate is as sound as a bell." 
 
 Is it to be wondered at that the girl grew to like 
 and trust the man who was ever quick to read her fears 
 and quiet them? 
 
 Mr. Dariza made a new will. His wife had left 
 one concerning the property that had come from her 
 side of the house and to which he had always refused to 
 put forward any claim. In spite of his growing weak- 
 ness this will he refused to tamper with. At the time 
 of his marriage he had legally vested his wife with all 
 the rights of what was known in those days as an 
 " heiress, " and, according to these rights, she had 
 made her will.
 
 138 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 She had left everything in trust to her two children, 
 the father to have full control during his life, and, if he 
 should die before either the boy or the girl was of 
 age, the control of the lands and moneys was to pass 
 into the hands of her brother, Henry Fairwood. This 
 will had already been given to Mr. Fairwood by Mr. 
 Dariza, a week before Alcazardo's arrival. But Rich- 
 ard Dariza was a man of considerable property in his 
 own right. 
 
 Back of the tobacco-fields of Hopeland Hopeland 
 itself was already disposed of by the wife's will he 
 possessed many square miles of heavily timbered 
 wilderness, some of which had been granted to him 
 by the Crown and some purchased with his own money. 
 Also, he owned a small fortune which was deposited 
 with a London banking-house, and shares hi several 
 trading-ships. He had not left Spain empty-handed, 
 in the days of his youth. 
 
 So Richard Dariza, gentleman, of Hopeland, Kings 
 County, Virginia, made a new will. A lawyer came 
 from King's Haven to draw it up; and it was wit- 
 nessed by John Drurie, Josef Alcazardo, and the good 
 doctor, who thought that nothing more was the matter 
 with his patient than a " fever of the blood." 
 
 Richard Dariza died at nine o'clock of the evening 
 of the tenth of June. He died hi his library, in a chair
 
 Isobel Sails Away 139 
 
 by the open window, with his daughter's hand in his 
 and his brother talking gently of the little Spanish 
 village, in the castle above which they had both been 
 born. 
 
 Death came so softly, so swiftly, that Alcazardo 
 went on with his story; but Isobel bent forward and 
 peered into her father's face, startled by a sudden move- 
 ment of the head against the back of the chair. 
 
 The girl's grief was intense. At first she could not 
 believe that her father's spirit had slipped away, but 
 knelt beside the chair, calling him again and again 
 and clasping the cold and nerveless hands. 
 
 The old butler entered the room, carrying a branched 
 candlestick with lighted candles in each hand. 
 
 Alcazardo went quickly forward, took the candles 
 from him and placed them on the table. 
 
 " My worthy fellow," he said, very gently and with 
 tears in his eyes, " your good master has passed 
 away." 
 
 The old negro stared at him, far too greatly dis- 
 turbed by his address to comprehend the meaning of 
 the words. He trembled from head to foot, and shuffled 
 backward a step or two. 
 
 " Your master is dead," said Alcazardo, a trifle 
 louder than before and a shade less gently. 
 
 " God hab mercy! Lord hab mercy! " cried the
 
 140 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 butler; and, turning, he ran from the library, filling 
 the house with outcry like that of a stricken animal. 
 
 The other servants gathered to him. Their voices 
 rang shrill through that house of death. 
 
 Alcazardo, cursing the blacks hi his heart, went 
 back to the chair where the girl still knelt by the dead 
 man. He put his right arm about the girl's shoulders. 
 
 " Come, dear," he whispered. " Come away to 
 your room. Be brave. You must not stay here, 
 Isobel." 
 
 Without a word, she got slowly to her feet. His arm 
 around her, holding her close and firm, he helped her 
 from the room. They crossed the unlit hall slowly. 
 
 At the foot of the great stairs old Max, Dariza's 
 body-servant, sprang up in front of them. He stood 
 so for a moment, glaring close into the Spaniard's 
 face; then he slunk back against the wall. 
 
 As they passed the old fellow, Alcazardo looked over 
 his shoulder at him with that in his eyes that tore every 
 fibre of courage in the African's heart. Isobel saw 
 nothing of all this, for her face was hidden against her 
 uncle's shoulder. 
 
 Alcazardo supported the girl to the door of her 
 room. Then he went quietly to his brother's room, 
 took the pistol from the table and slipped it into his 
 pocket, and returned to the library.
 
 Isobel Sails Away 141 
 
 Six of the servants two women and four men 
 were in the library, squatting around the chair in 
 which the dead gentleman sat as naturally as in life, 
 but now heedless of their grief and devotion, and staring 
 over their heads with blank eyes. They cried aloud 
 and their voices sounded less than human. 
 
 Alcazardo had heard this same bestial noise in the 
 depths of tropical jungles. His gorge rose in his 
 throat, and a hot devilish desire to spring upon these 
 childish, foolish, primitive people and beat them until 
 the blood should gush from their black hides shook 
 him from head to foot. 
 
 Did he give way to this diabolical urging of the 
 senses? No. Josef Alcazardo never lost control of 
 himself unless he chose to. He paused on the threshold 
 for a second or two, breathing quickly, his eyes on fire 
 and his lean face horribly distorted. Then, calm and 
 grave of face, with downcast eyes and reverent de- 
 meanour, he advanced into the room. Catching sight 
 of him, the servants ceased their wailing and scrambled 
 to their feet. 
 
 " You will try to be quiet, I am sure, for the sake 
 of your poor young mistress," said Josef. " The sound 
 of your grief disturbs her. Two of you must carry 
 your master's body to his bed, and one go to Mr. 
 Fairwood and to Admiral's Pride with the sad news."
 
 142 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 No word was spoken in answer; but four of the 
 blacks hurried from the room. The old butler and the 
 old body-servant remained. Alcazardo stepped close 
 to the nerveless, wide-eyed thing in the chair; and the 
 two old men shrank away from him. Their fear of 
 him was as clear as day but he made no sign of 
 noticing it. He bent above the body, tenderly closed 
 the eyes and bandaged them with a silk handkerchief. 
 He crossed the cold hands on the quiet breast. 
 
 Then, kneeling, he began to pray aloud in the Latin 
 tongue. The prayers were what he could recall, at 
 so short a notice, of a religious service which he had 
 neglected for over forty years. But what matter their 
 meaning so long as they were voiced in words unin- 
 telligible to his audience? He made the holy sign 
 frequently. He bowed his head almost to the floor. 
 Without a twinge of shame or fear, and for no other 
 reason than to befool two old servants, he went through 
 a travesty of religious devotion and pleading. 
 
 True, the prayers did not happen to be those for the 
 dead; but what matter? They were, in fact, prayers 
 of praise and thanksgiving; but the tone of grief in 
 his voice, and the strange language hi w r hich they were 
 spoken, hid their real nature completely. 
 
 At last he rose. One hand shading his eyes, he 
 motioned with the other to the spellbound servants.
 
 Isobel Sails Away 143 
 
 " Take the poor clay up-stairs," he said, in a voice 
 that shook. 
 
 When Mr. Fairwood reached the house he flung 
 open the front door and tramped violently into the 
 library, heart and head full of a black suspicion of 
 murder. He swore roundly at finding the room de- 
 serted. He dashed up the stairs and into Dariza's 
 room, as if to question the poor body of the manner 
 of its death. But he halted on the threshold, and all 
 the red anger went out of his big face. 
 
 The body of his friend lay straight and slim in the 
 middle of the great bed, covered to the breast with a 
 long, black cloth. The hands were pointed upward in 
 the dignified, conventional attitude of prayer. The face, 
 no longer hidden by the bandage, wore an expression 
 of calm severity that had been unknown to it hi life. 
 A candle burned at the head and the feet; and midway 
 of the bed knelt Isobel with her back to the door and 
 her face buried in the pall. 
 
 Mr. Fairwood had known that his friend was dead; 
 but he had not realized it until now. Dead? Lord, 
 he had spoken to the man about the need of a new 
 fence between their pastures that very morning. And 
 now look at him! God have mercy on us! A man is 
 not sure of his next meal or his next breath. Heavens, 
 what a grim, strange look on his face! And what is
 
 144 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 that against the wall, near the head of the bed ? Is it 
 death? No, it is nothing but a shadow. Lord, to 
 think that poor old Dick is no more than clay, and his 
 immortal soul off to God knows where! 
 
 Shaken as Mr. Fairwood was by the sight of the 
 quiet dead he had courage enough to face anything 
 of living flesh and blood he did not obey the prompt- 
 ings of his heart and hurry from the room. He would 
 have done so, but for the sight of the desolate girl. 
 As it was, he stood on the threshold for a long time 
 muttering strange things to himself and trying to recover 
 his nerve ; then he moved forward, strongly but slowly, 
 like a soldier marching through deep mud, straight 
 up to the bed. With a choking sigh, he bumped down 
 on his knees beside the girl and flung his arm around 
 her. She nestled close to him. She had known who 
 it was at the first sound of the heavy, honest footsteps. 
 
 The doctor came from King's Haven and announced 
 that Dariza's death was due to the fever in his blood 
 having suddenly ascended to his brain. This was 
 reasonable enough, surely. 
 
 The funeral took place on the second day after the 
 death. People came in from the surrounding country 
 to attend it, a distance of fifteen or twenty miles hi 
 every direction. The gentlemen were not very cordial 
 to Alcazardo, taking their cue from Mr. Fairwood
 
 Isobel Sails Away 145 
 
 and the gentlemen of Admiral's Pride. The Spaniard 
 was not one of them. There seemed something sinister 
 in his arrival in Virginia so shortly previous to Dariza's 
 death. They did not like his looks. In short, they 
 could not stomach him, despite his polite and mournful 
 manners. 
 
 When the contents of the late Richard Dariza's 
 will became known, consternation reigned in Fairwood 
 Manor and Admiral's Pride more especially in 
 Fairwood Manor. All Dariza's property was now his 
 son's and his daughter's his daughter's alone in 
 the case that Richard was dead or could not be found 
 and jor two years every penny of it was in the hands of 
 the Senor Josef Alcazar do. 
 
 There was the rub! For these two years, according 
 to the will, he was to act as the girl's guardian; but 
 should Richard Fairwood St. George Dariza appear, 
 the property was to be at once divided, and not only 
 was the young man to have full control of his own 
 share, but he was to share with his uncle in the manage- 
 ment of the girl's, for the aforementioned term of two 
 years, or for such fraction of that time as still remained 
 after his appearance or discovery. 
 
 Again, if Isobel married Francis Drurie within two 
 years of her father's death, she was to take control of 
 her property immediately upon her marriage. This
 
 146 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 sounded very fine; but, to tell the truth, there was 
 not a word in the document to keep Alcazardo from 
 disposing of every pound of money and acre of land 
 within a week of the funeral. The game was in his 
 hands, sure enough. 
 
 Mr. Henry Fairwood took the Sefior Josef Alcazardo 
 into the library, closed the doors and the windows, 
 and went for him hot-tongued. He called him a great 
 many things that are not fit to put down on paper - 
 and yet he did not tell him more than half the truth. 
 He called him a liar, a sneak, and a thief. Well, had 
 he only known it, he might very properly have gone 
 on to much worse. He shook his big fist under the 
 eagle nose. He glared into the black, sinister eyes. 
 He went on at such a rate that Alcazardo at last cried 
 out, with a dramatic upfling of the right hand, that 
 honour demanded a duel to the death. 
 
 Did he think to intimidate old Fairwood, I wonder ? 
 If so, there he made a grave mistake. Nothing would 
 please the old man better than an excuse for attacking 
 Alcazardo with pistol, sword, club, or empty hands. 
 That was what he was working for and had been 
 nursing hi his mind for some time. If the other could 
 be brought to a duel, it was even chances that he would 
 kill the unprincipled adventurer. That would simplify 
 everything. If, on the other hand, he should be so
 
 Isobel Sails Away 147 
 
 unfortunate as to die himself, he would leave good 
 men, such as Captain Drurie, behind him, and Isobel 
 and her property would be in no more danger than now. 
 
 "A fight to the death!" he cried. "Thank God 
 for the thought! Come, now, stop your cursed play- 
 acting and arrange for the duel. To-night will do, 
 and down in my woodlands is a pretty place. Drurie 
 will support me and you can have young John. There'll 
 be no need for a surgeon." 
 
 That changed Alcazardo's tune as quick as a flash. 
 That was the last thing in the world that he wanted. 
 With a bullet through him, where, then, would be 
 his fine plans for the future? Oh, no, he had not the 
 slightest intention of running the risk of being killed 
 by that pig of a Virginian. That would be a poor 
 reward for all these weeks of smirking and bowing and 
 play-acting. 
 
 " You blind yourself to my position. You know 
 that I cannot fight you, with this sacred charge left 
 to me," he replied to Fairwood. " I spoke, a moment 
 ago, in a fit of stupid temper. I cannot fight you." 
 
 Nothing that Fairwood could say or do could bring 
 about a duel. He raged like a madman. At last he 
 told Alcazardo to leave the house within the hour, 
 bag and baggage, and never to set foot in it again on 
 pain of being shot like a dangerous hound.
 
 148 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 " You'll find that I am master of this house, by a 
 will you could not change, you white-livered swine! " 
 he roared. 
 
 Alcazardo set out for the inn at King's Haven before 
 the hour was out; but ere he left, told Isobel his own 
 little story. The honest, credulous girl looked upon 
 him as a hero and a martyr. She felt that her father 
 could have made no mistake in the character of his 
 brother. Her own heart told her that he was to be 
 trusted. 
 
 Immediately upon reaching King's Haven, Al- 
 cazardo wrote a long and wonderful letter to his ward, 
 and posted it to her after nightfall, by one of the 
 grooms at the inn. He explained the impossibility 
 of his staying in Virginia, where he was so misunder- 
 stood. He could not leave her, however, for he loved 
 her as he would a daughter of his own. Would she 
 sail with him to England ? 
 
 They would make every effort to discover Richard 
 in case he still lived; and there they would welcome 
 Francis Drurie on his return from the northern voyage. 
 He weighed every word with devilish cunning; and 
 not a word did he write against Mr. Fairwood or 
 Captain Drurie. He said that they were slow to extend 
 friendship to a man of a different blood that was 
 all
 
 Isobel Sails Away 149 
 
 Alcazardo worked in the dark. Men were paid to 
 keep quiet about his moves. He seemed to have 
 plenty of gold with which to buy silence; but you 
 may be sure that he got his money's worth. He sold 
 the woodlands behind the Dariza place, very secretly. 
 
 One fine morning in July Isobel drove to King's 
 Haven. It was four o'clock when they left the house. 
 The horses were put to their best speed throughout 
 the journey. Alcazardo met her and they went im- 
 mediately aboard the brig Heron. Within ten minutes 
 of that the brig swung from the wharf; and she was 
 hull down by the time Mr. Fairwood and Captain 
 Drurie dashed through the town on sweating horses.
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 ISOBEL'S DISCOVERY 
 
 LONG before England was reached by the brig 
 Heron, Isobel Dariza was almost frantic with remorse 
 for having left Virginia, and her old friends there, hi 
 so hasty and secret a manner. But she tried to hide 
 her suffering from her uncle. He saw, at a glance, 
 what the trouble was, however, and did his best to 
 cheer her. In fact, throughout the entire voyage, he 
 acted with the greatest kindness and consideration 
 toward the grieving girl. His season of play-acting 
 was not yet over; and he was not the man to spoil a 
 good performance by haste or carelessness in the last 
 act. 
 
 On reaching the port of London, Alcazardo took 
 his ward to the best inn in the town, and lavished 
 upon her all manner of gifts. He told her that this 
 visit to London was purely for business purposes; 
 that he wished to follow a certain clue that might 
 lead to some information concerning Richard this 
 had no foundation whatever and that he intended 
 
 160
 
 Isobel's Discovery 151 
 
 looking into the state of the banking-house in which 
 her money and her brother's had reposed for so many 
 years. Whether the stay in London should be brief 
 or long depended on the clue. 
 
 She was touchingly grateful for all the trouble he 
 was taking for her. He spent a week in looking into 
 the state of the banking-house, and his personal 
 baggage was considerably increased in weight by the 
 end of the week. As for the clue why, it was really 
 remarkable. It pointed to Spain, of all places. The 
 last that had been seen of the person who might be 
 the person they were looking for was aboard a ship 
 called the Five Brothers, bound for some Spanish 
 port. He was a born romancer, was Josef Alcazardo. 
 
 Isobel agreed with her uncle that the best thing to 
 do was to go to Spain and follow the clue; and by 
 autumn, whether successful or not, to return to Eng- 
 land and wait in Bristol for Francis Drurie. During 
 their brief stay in London, Isobel wrote several letters 
 to Virginia to her uncle, and to Captain and Mrs. 
 Drurie. 
 
 These letters were sent across the ocean in sure 
 hands and by the first opportunity, for Alcazardo 
 was well aware that they contained nothing but good 
 of himself. It tickled his queer sense cf humour to 
 picture the bewilderment of Fairwood and the Druries
 
 152 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 upon reading that he was still the kindly, affectionate 
 gentleman that he had pretended to be. 
 
 Alcazardo spoke, at first, of going to Madrid; but 
 he changed his plans suddenly, for some reason un- 
 known to Isobel. They travelled to Cadiz, by easy 
 stages and in the most comfortable manner possible. 
 They went directly to a large house outside the city. 
 It was an old house, scantily furnished and pervaded 
 with an atmosphere of emptiness and decay, as if it 
 had been uninhabited and neglected for many years. 
 
 The only servant in the house, at the time of their 
 arrival, was one old man. Alcazardo told the old 
 fellow to engage immediately a cook and a young 
 woman to wait upon his ward. The other shut one 
 eye and screwed up his mouth at this, as if to say that 
 it was not as easy as it sounded. The master drew him 
 to one side by the front of his faded coat. 
 
 " Here is a little gift for you, my faithful Juan," 
 he said, pressing a gold com into the old fellow's 
 palm. " The wages shall be large for the cook and 
 the maid yes, and the service easy," he continued. 
 " See, here is something for each of them in advance." 
 He put another coin into the ready palm. " Come 
 now, Juan, do your best." 
 
 Juan nodded. " I know the very people for you, 
 senor" he said. " My daughter for the cooking, and
 
 Isobel's Discovery 153 
 
 her daughter to wait upon the beautiful young lady 
 who is your niece." 
 
 So it happened that, at dusk of the day of their 
 arrival at the desolate house, a well-cooked meal was 
 served to them; and, later, when Isobel retired, she 
 was attended by a dark maid named Maria, who not 
 only unpacked her boxes for her and helped her 
 prepare for sleep, but retired to a couch in the same 
 room. The lonely girl was thankful, for the great 
 bedchamber was not a cheerful place for a young lady 
 to sleep in alone. 
 
 During the next week neither Josef Alcazardo nor 
 his ward went any farther from the house than the 
 stone wall that surrounded the tangled gardens and 
 neglected orchard. Isobel was homesick, and the 
 desolate house and grounds depressed her like a night- 
 mare. She asked her uncle to take her to the city of 
 Cadiz, if only for half a day, that she might rouse her 
 spirits with sightseeing. 
 
 " Not now. But next week, perhaps, if I am not 
 too busy," he replied. He did not speak as if he were 
 sorry not to be able to oblige her. 
 
 She looked at him in frightened bewilderment. He 
 met the glance coolly; then turned and left the room. 
 But in a moment he was back again, for he had almost 
 shown the cloven-hoof too soon.
 
 154 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 " You must try to forgive me, my dear little daugh- 
 ter," he said contritely. " I am worried now. I have 
 troubles. But in a few days things will be well with 
 me again." 
 
 And so the sudden, vague terror that had stirred 
 in her heart sank to rest for a little while. 
 
 Only two visitors ever came to the house during 
 Isobel's stay in it. The first was a short, black-bearded 
 man of seafaring look, who came to see Alcazardo. 
 He had been searching ,for him for several months, he 
 said. He seemed in a very bad humour at the beginning 
 of his first visit. He called twice after dusk, and 
 with only a day's interval. 
 
 Though Isobel did not see him on either occasion, 
 he caught a glimpse of her. Such gentry have a way 
 of seeing and not being seen. 
 
 Each call lasted several hours, during which time 
 he and Alcazardo were closeted together in a small 
 room on the ground floor. 
 
 The old servant a sly old dog who wanted to 
 increase his knowledge of his mysterious master's 
 affairs listened each night with his ear to the door. 
 But he failed to hear anything more enlightening than 
 a busy, senseless mumble of conversation, and once 
 the jingle of shattered glass. The other visitor was a 
 person of no importance in himself; but was to play
 
 Isobel's Discovery 155 
 
 an important, though humble, part in Isobel's affairs, 
 as you shall see. 
 
 When Maria brought up Isobel's breakfast on the 
 morning after the black-bearded man's last visit, she 
 brought also a note for her from her guardian. It 
 was brief, but affectionate. This was the way of it: 
 
 " I have been called away, in haste, on urgent 
 business. I hope to be back by nightfall; but if not, 
 you shall hear from me. Be of good cheer. 
 " Your affectionate 
 
 "UNCLE AND GUARDIAN." 
 
 This note filled the girl with wonder and appre- 
 hension. What was this urgent business of Alcazardo's, 
 of which he had not told a word to her ? And where 
 had he gone to for its transaction? And why were 
 his movements so sudden and secret? She sent for 
 old Juan, and questioned him as to the time and manner 
 of his master's departure. 
 
 The old fellow told all he knew gladly enough; but 
 he knew very little. The senor had said nothing to 
 him about going away; but he had been awakened, a 
 little after midnight, by the sound of wheels on the 
 cobbles of the yard. On looking from his window 
 he had seen a chaise in the yard, with two horses in
 
 156 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 the harness. A lantern wavered about, held by a 
 peasant who stood at the horses' heads. 
 
 Then he had seen his master come from a small 
 door that opened from the basement upon the yard. 
 He was tugging a heavy bag in each hand. Having 
 placed these inside the chaise, he went back to the 
 house, reappearing in a minute with two more bags. 
 With these he mounted into the chaise. Then the 
 peasant got up in front, and they drove away. 
 
 Isobel's curiosity was excited. What was the reason 
 of this midnight departure, made without the knowledge 
 of herself or Juan ? One would think that he would 
 have awakened the old man, if only to carry the bags 
 for him. And what could have been the contents of 
 those heavy bags ? She went to the door of her uncle's 
 room. It was locked. She searched the house for 
 keys, but could find nothing to serve her purpose. 
 
 A vague suspicion of Alcazardo was growing in her 
 mind. It was more a suspicion of misfortune than of 
 evil intention a suspicion that worldly affairs were 
 not in such prosperous condition as he had pretended. 
 If this should prove to be the case, she was willing that 
 he should use some of her money for his needs. 
 
 Sending for Juan again, she questioned him craftily, 
 giving him the idea that she had expected this sudden 
 departure of her uncle's, and was yet somewhat worried
 
 Isobel's Discovery 157 
 
 about it. She hinted that it had something to do with 
 a commercial venture the freighting of a ship in 
 which she and the senor were interested undertaken 
 against her saner judgment. 
 
 The old man was as simple as he considered himself 
 deep. He was flattered by the young lady's con- 
 fidences. 
 
 " That would be it," he said. " The seafaring man 
 would certainly be the captain of the ship." 
 
 And so he went on, needing no questioning, and told 
 what he knew of the man with the black beard. From 
 that he wandered to other things, and let fall the fact 
 that it was now almost four years since the senor's 
 last visit. Yes, he owned the house. Yes, he believed 
 he spent much of his time in Madrid; but he was not 
 sure of that. No, the senor did not seem to have any 
 friends in Cadiz. Oh, he was an uncertain gentleman, 
 and a great spender of money. Of that Juan was sure, 
 though he swore that he never saw much of it himself. 
 
 Isobel was thinking of retiring, and Maria was 
 sewing busily by the light of their single candle, when 
 Juan came rapping at the door. 
 
 He was greatly excited and had a letter in his hand 
 for the young lady. He said that it had been brought 
 by a rustic youth who even now waited in the yard 
 with a large, covered carriage and two horses.
 
 158 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 Isobel read the letter eagerly, and gave a little cry 
 of delight. It was from Alcazardo. 
 
 He stated concisely that he had to sail for England 
 in the morning; and that, unless she wanted to stay 
 in Spain, she was to pack her most valued possessions 
 immediately and accompany the bearer of the note. 
 
 Within half an hour of receiving the letter, Isobel 
 and her maid were rolling along unknown roads in 
 the great carriage. So they travelled all night; and 
 at the lift of dawn the carriage came to a standstill 
 before a dilapidated hut on the seacoast. 
 
 Here were Alcazardo and the man with the black 
 beard, and four rough-cut mariners, impatiently 
 awaiting their arrival. Alcazardo seemed very nervous, 
 and was undoubtedly in a desperate hurry to get away 
 from the coast of Spain. He all but dragged his ward 
 and her maid from the carriage, and then snatched 
 out their baggage and ordered the sailors to rush it 
 down to the boat. He paid the driver of the carriage, 
 and sent him about his business. He had not a decent 
 word for any one, but continually urged haste, as if the 
 devil himself were at his heels. 
 
 The boat down at the edge of the tide was already 
 partially loaded. The work was completed in a very 
 few minutes after the arrival of the carriage, and the 
 boat crawled heavily seaward. Isobel and Maria sat
 
 Isobel's Discovery 159 
 
 in the stem beside the man with the black beard, who 
 held the tiller. The sailors bent to the oars, and Alca- 
 zardo reclined hi the bow. Several miles to seaward 
 the level sunlight flamed white on the sails of two vessels 
 that stood off and on. Isobel noticed it and thought it 
 beautiful and then she leaned sideways a little and 
 closed her eyes. She had not caught a minute's sleep 
 during the night, and now her eyelids ached. The 
 motion of the boat over the little waves was very 
 soothing. 
 
 One of the vessels the smaller of the two 
 veered in toward the boat. It was a fine little topsail- 
 schooner, heavily sparred and with hull and canvas as 
 white as shell. It lay-to and the boat ran alongside. 
 
 Alcazardo sprang to the deck. Isobel awoke, and 
 she and Maria were passed skilfully up. The luggage 
 followed them hi short order. Then the boat pushed 
 away from the side of the schooner and shaped her 
 course for the other vessel, which lay within a half 
 mile; and the schooner fell away before the wind. 
 
 It was then that Isobel discovered the loss of the 
 little gold cross from her neck the cross which her 
 lover had given her. It must have broken from her 
 neck in the boat while she slept. The chain was very 
 thin the gentleman with the beard had noticed that. 
 
 The little schooner danced along, with just what
 
 160 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 wind she needed to keep the wrinkles out of her sails. 
 So she danced all that golden day and all the silver 
 night. Next morning Tsobel asked her uncle how long 
 it would be before they reached England. He looked 
 at her with a smile on his lips and a horrid gleam in his 
 eyes. 
 
 " My dear, foolish girl, we are not going to England," 
 he said. 
 
 "Not going to England!" she repeated, with 
 horror in her voice. 
 
 " We are bound for a snug little island in the West 
 Indies," he replied with a leer. " An island where 
 my whim is the only law, even as it is aboard this 
 ship." 
 
 The girl uttered an inarticulate cry and sank to the 
 deck.
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 FRANCIS DRURIE RETURNS TO BRISTOL 
 
 THE Brave Adventure outsailed the other ships of 
 the fleet, and got .back to Bristol in the first week of 
 November. A crowd of townspeople of all classes and 
 callings gathered on the water-front to see the little 
 vessel furl and make fast after her daring voyage. 
 
 Here were shareholders of the Royal Company, 
 anxious to see and hear how the expedition had fared; 
 noblemen attracted by the romance of the voyage, and 
 merchants attracted by other considerations; and all 
 manner of idle folk, curious and looking for a little 
 excitement. 
 
 Cheering thundered out from the crowd, and rang 
 back heartily from the Brave Adventure. The gray 
 sails dwindled and vanished, one by one. At last, 
 drawing in with no more than steerageway, the stout 
 little craft swung to starboard and settled in against 
 her wharf. The cheering rose higher, and willing 
 hands made her fast. 
 
 The commander of the Brave Adventure was the 
 161
 
 162 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 first to step ashore, followed close by the master 
 and the gentlemen of the ship. The important 
 people clustered around them with expressions of 
 welcome and good will and eager questions. " Where 
 are the other ships?" "How fared the crew?" 
 "What success?" 
 
 " Gentlemen," cried Drurie, " I thank you all, in 
 the name of the ship's company, for your consideration. 
 As far as we know, the other vessels are safe; but 
 they do not sail fast enough to keep in sight of the 
 Brave Ad-venture. We summered well, and made safe 
 voyages both ways. We founded a strong fort, in the 
 name of God and the king. We have a fine cargo of 
 peltries under hatches." 
 
 Every one cheered violently at that including 
 those who had not heard a word of it. 
 
 Master Smithers. grabbed Drurie by the elbow. 
 " Come, captain," he cried heartily, " dinner awaits 
 you in your own inn. I ordered it when you were 
 first sighted." 
 
 "Have you seen anything of Cremona?" asked 
 Drurie, after the greetings were over. 
 
 " Not a feather of him," replied the merchant. 
 " But come along. The dinner waits. Make way for 
 the commander of the Brave Adventure" he cried to 
 the people in his path. " Make way for the gallant
 
 Francis Drurie Returns to Bristol 103 
 
 adventurer who has not tasted English roast for six 
 months." 
 
 " Give him his fill o' the best!" cried the crowd. 
 " He is a fine lad. He is a great sailor. Way for 
 Captain Drurie there! Way for the commander o' the 
 Brave Adventure! " 
 
 So they made the slow but glorious journey up the 
 wharf, with Nicholas at their heels, carrying a bag and 
 looking twice as broad as when he sailed away with 
 his Virginian master. 
 
 Smithers had a packet of letters for Francis; but 
 he refused to give them to him until the dinner was 
 over and several rounds of congratulations had been 
 drunk. Then he left the commander to his mail and 
 returned to the water-front to watch the unloading of 
 the valuable cargo of the Brave Adventure. 
 
 First of all, Francis opened the letter addressed in 
 Isobel's writing. It was in three parts; the first 
 dated on the very day after his departure from Vir- 
 ginia, and added to time and again; the second, 
 begun soon after the arrival at Hopeland of Josef 
 Alcazardo, and full of appreciation of that gentleman's 
 good qualities; and the third, written after Mr. Dariza's 
 death. 
 
 It was not the news of the death of his old friend 
 that shocked him most keenly in the last portion of the
 
 164 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 letter, but the girl's anger against Mr. Fairwood and 
 Captain Drurie for their treatment of her Spanish 
 uncle. What could she say of the stranger's virtues to 
 outweigh the fact that he had already caused trouble 
 between herself and her loyal, old-time friends ? 
 
 His heart was chilled with fear at the thought that 
 a man whom the captain and Fairwood did not treat 
 cordially had won the trust of the girl he loved. He 
 felt sure that those two honest gentlemen were not 
 likely to make any mistake in their reading of the 
 stranger. They knew mankind and the world. They 
 would never treat an honest man with anything but 
 consideration and fairness. 
 
 With hands that trembled, Francis broke the seal 
 of his father's letter. It was short and of fairly recent 
 date in fact, it had been written immediately after 
 the arrival in Virginia of Isobel's letters from London. 
 
 The captain dealt briefly with the arrival of Alcazardo 
 in Virginia, Dariza's death, and the remarkable will. 
 Without comment, he mentioned the fact that Fairwood 
 had done his best to incite Alcazardo to a duel, and that 
 the fellow had accepted the gravest insults without 
 responding. He wrote that Isobel, poor girl, had not 
 understood Fairwood's good reason for his treatment of 
 the other. 
 
 He skipped over the flight of Isobel and her guardian
 
 Francis Drurie Returns to Bristol 165 
 
 with very few words; but he made the most of the 
 letters which Isobel had sent back to Virginia from 
 London. 
 
 " Who can say if the girl is right or we are right, 
 after all? " he concluded. " Only Heaven knows what 
 is in that black-eyed fellow's heart. He has begun 
 well, as far as Isobel is concerned, at any rate; so let 
 us hope that Henry Fairwood and I have been nothing 
 but a pair of old fools in this matter." 
 
 Then, feeling a little easier in his mind, Francis read 
 the communication from Mr. Fairwood. It was not 
 comforting. The hot-headed old Virginian put down 
 his opinion of Alcazardo in black and white. He drew 
 his picture to a hair. He called him, to Francis, the 
 same names that he had given him to his own face. 
 
 For an hour the young man sat hi his chair by the 
 table, with his face between his hands, trying to picture 
 the last few months of Isobel's life. He derived no 
 hope now from the fact that she had written home from 
 London; for why had she not written to Bristol since 
 then ? Or, for that matter, if there had been any truth 
 in Alcazardo's promises, why were they not both in 
 Bristol at this moment? At last he rang for Nicholas 
 and told him to search the town for news of a Senor 
 Josef Alcazardo and his ward. 
 
 Francis left his chair by the table and paced feverishly
 
 166 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 up and down the room, his hands gripped together 
 behind him and his chin on his breast. The most 
 unhappy imaginings filled his mind. Strive as he 
 would, he could not accept IsobePs value of this man 
 Alcazardo. 
 
 As far as London, evidently, the man had played 
 his game; but after that, when there was no more 
 need of playing, what had he done? Of course, he 
 had possessed himself of the money. Curse the 
 money! He was welcome to it. But what had he done 
 with the girl when no more was to be gained by 
 pretending to be her guardian? Had he deserted 
 her in London? 
 
 " I start for London to-morrow," he cried harshly 
 in answer to the thought. 
 
 Had Francis known Alcazardo, that fear of physical 
 desertion would not have troubled him. Alcazardo's 
 devilment was of a more refined variety. He liked 
 people to suffer under his eyes. He liked to contem- 
 plate the results of his work. He liked to play with his 
 victims to win their trust, then their hate and fear 
 to cast them to the depths, give them a glimpse of 
 hope and cast them down again. But how was poor 
 young Drurie to know that his sweetheart's uncle was 
 such an original kind of devil? 
 
 He was still pacing back and forth, and dusk was
 
 Francis Drurie Returns to Bristol 167 
 
 filling the room, when a knock came to the door. 
 " Come in," he said, pausing by the window. 
 
 The door opened, and two men entered and stood 
 without a word. Both wore long cloaks which reached 
 almost to the floor; and hi the dusk Francis could dis- 
 cern nothing of their faces. Their hats were still on 
 their heads. Francis was sorry that he had not a 
 lighted candle in the room. 
 
 " Well, what can I do for you ? " he inquired steadily. 
 
 And still the cloaked men maintained their silence 
 and their hats. Francis, worried almost to despera- 
 tion by the news he had read in his letters, was in 
 no mood to be tampered with by any two men in the 
 world. 
 
 He stepped forward briskly, and with a swift stroke 
 of the hand sent the hat of the taller of the two spinning 
 to the floor. 
 
 "Off she go my fine hat!" cried the voice of 
 Cremona delightedly. 
 
 It was " Cap'n Cremona," beyond a doubt, though 
 he had a pointed beard on his chin and his earrings 
 were gone. 
 
 Francis turned to the other quick as the thought 
 that had leaped into his brain, and grabbed him by the 
 muffling cloak. It was Dick Dariza! 
 
 The friends embraced and shook hands, and em-
 
 168 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 braced again. Then Drurie turned again to Cremona 
 and grasped his hands. Then he pulled the bell and 
 ordered candles and two bottles of the best wine in the 
 cellar. He tried to throw off his anxiety for the time. 
 He would not chill the satisfaction of the reunion by 
 any mention just yet of his news or his fears. Neither 
 could be done before morning, anyway. 
 
 During supper, and for an hour afterward, the 
 conversation kept to the recent adventures of the 
 three. Dick asked tenderly after his father and sister 
 at the beginning of the meal; but Francis put off the 
 hour which he dreaded by telling him that Isobel had 
 promised to be his wife. 
 
 Dick rejoiced, and took it for granted that all was 
 well with his family. He was something of a chatterer 
 and so was Cremona. Between them they informed 
 Francis fully of all their adventures since the un- 
 fortunate duel. Many of these adventures had been 
 matters of life or death, but they told them all light- 
 heartedly. 
 
 They had suffered hunger and cold and humiliation; 
 but there was no bitterness in their hearts. They had 
 hidden from their enemies in mean places; but they 
 had brought none of the meanness back to the open 
 air with them. Their friendship was a fine thing. Dick 
 treated Cremona, though he always called him Pedro
 
 Francis Drurie Returns to Bristol 169 
 
 in private, with the same manner of comradeship as 
 he treated Drurie; but in the eyes of Cremona, when- 
 ever they were turned on Dick, shone that light of 
 homage that often glorifies the eyes of a good dog. 
 For all that, his manner was now that of the loyal and 
 somewhat boisterous friend; one could see by his eyes 
 that he was still the loyal servant. 
 
 " We have been in the saddle all day," said 
 Dick. " So now for bed and in the morning 
 what?" 
 
 " There is an adventure awaiting both of you. I 
 shall tell you the plans of it hi the morning," replied 
 Francis. He called the landlord and arranged about 
 rooms for the newcomers. He handed his letters from 
 Virginia to Dick. " I want you to take these to your 
 room with you and read them before you go to sleep," 
 he said. " They have but just come to my hand," he 
 added. 
 
 Dick and Cremona retired, the table was cleared, and 
 Francis again took up his pacing of the room. Back 
 and forth he marched, as if on the narrow quarter-deck 
 of the Brave Adventure. 
 
 It was not long before Nicholas rapped on the door 
 and entered. " I have been to every inn of the city," 
 he said, " and no sign has been seen of a gentleman 
 by the name of Alcazardo."
 
 170 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 " Very good, Nicholas. We start to-morrow morn- 
 ing for London," replied Francis. 
 
 " Yes, sir. Saddles or carriage? " asked the servant. 
 
 " Saddles," replied the commander. " Are there 
 any horses hi your father's stable ? " he asked. 
 
 " Only the two belonging to Captain Cremona and 
 his friend," said Nicholas. 
 
 " Then engage two more," said Francis. " We shall 
 start at sunrise." 
 
 It was after midnight when Richard Dariza came 
 quietly into his friend's room. Francis had been 
 sitting motionless hi his chair for over an hour, waiting. 
 He sprang up and went forward to meet Dariza. The 
 other's eyelids were red. 
 
 " It was quick and easy," said Francis. " And 
 now he is happy." 
 
 Dick nodded. " Yes the poor old man," he 
 murmured. 
 
 " As for Isobel why, we must look for her," said 
 Francis. " They have not been in Bristol, I think. 
 So we shall go to London to the inn at which 
 they stayed and to the banking-house at which the 
 money was. We should get some news of them there." 
 
 " I don't understand it," said Dick dully. " Why 
 didn't Uncle Henry put a bullet through the rogue's 
 head?"
 
 Francis Drurie Returns to Bristol 171 
 
 "I would to Heaven he had!" cried Francis fer- 
 vently. 
 
 In London they learned that the Senor Josef Al- 
 cazardo, uncle and guardian to Mistress Isobel Dariza, 
 of Virginia, had removed funds to a very considerable 
 amount from the banking-house of Smith & Wedder. 
 The bankers had seen nothing of him after that. 
 
 At the inn from which Isobel had written her letters 
 they learned that the Spanish gentleman and the 
 beautiful young lady had left London in a ship. The 
 gentleman had been very free with his money. The 
 young lady was dressed like a princess. The landlord 
 did not remember the name of the vessel on which 
 they had sailed, but one of the servants remembered 
 having heard Alcazardo mention Spain to the lady. 
 
 Nicholas was sent back to Bristol to look after his 
 master's belongings and interests there. The other 
 three, after a day's search, found a small vessel ready 
 to sail southward. For a matter of four guineas from 
 each of the gentlemen the master was willing to land 
 them on the Spanish coast. They paid him half the 
 money on the word, promised the balance when they 
 should be safely landed, and went aboard. 
 
 The shipmaster protested. He did not intend to 
 sail until a late hour of the next day. Why should the 
 gentlemen not return to their inn for the night? But
 
 172 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 the gentlemen were too old to be caught by any such 
 trick as that. " I think this is your tide," said Drurie; 
 and, sure enough, the little vessel was out in the stream 
 within the hour. 
 
 The Merry Andrew was a lugger-rigged craft of 
 about five tons burden. She had no deck amidships, 
 but a tiny cabin aft and a still smaller one forward. 
 Her crew consisted of two men besides Purl, the 
 master. They were hard-looking customers, all 
 three. Purl, when asked, said that the cargo was of 
 spikes and other ironware; but, upon investigation on 
 the part of Cremona, it was found to be of gun- 
 powder. 
 
 Then the three gentlemen realized that they should 
 have to keep a sharp lookout during the voyage, 
 for they suspected that the Merry Andrew had a 
 tryst to keep somewhere off the coast of France 
 or Spain with some larger craft in need of ammu- 
 nition. 
 
 Purl said that they were to occupy the after-cabin, 
 as it was the larger of the two; but the passengers 
 had no intention of giving the doubtful mariners any 
 such advantage of position. With two men in front 
 and another above and behind them at the tiller, they 
 would be all but helpless in case of treachery. So 
 Cremona, who took the lead in this matter to save the
 
 Francis Drurie Returns to Bristol 173 
 
 others the trouble, said that he and his friends con- 
 sidered the forward accommodations the more com- 
 fortable. 
 
 " But we have our beds there already," said 
 Purl. 
 
 " That is easily changed," replied Cremona with 
 a smile, and pulled the straw beds and dirty blankets 
 from the little den in the bows and tossed them 
 aft. 
 
 By this time the Merry Andrew was out of the river. 
 Purl swore savagely, and for a moment it looked as if 
 he were about to spring upon Cremona. The other's 
 alert and undismayed attitude, however, caused him to 
 change his mind. " Have it your own way an' to 
 blazes with ye," he said. 
 
 As night approached, the kegs of powder, which 
 stood close-racked on the ballast, were covered with 
 tarpaulins. The evening was fine and clear, and not 
 immoderately cold. The three passengers sat along 
 the edge of the little forecastle deck, facing aft. Cre- 
 mona rolled up a few leaves of tobacco and drew his 
 flint and steel from his pocket. This did not escape 
 the quick eye of Purl, who was at the tiller. 
 
 " Hold, there! " he shouted. " I'll have no sparks 
 flyin' aboard this craft." 
 
 Cremona grinned and returned both tobacco and box
 
 174 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 to his pocket. " I think you scared the cargo blow-up," 
 he said. 
 
 Purl did not reply. A dangerous silence reigned 
 fore and aft.
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 THREE GENTLEMEN FOLLOW AN ELUSIVE QUEST 
 
 THE three passengers were thankful that the crew 
 of the lugger did not outnumber them. As it was, 
 they felt but little anxiety. They had their baggage 
 with them in the bows; and as soon as dark was fallen 
 they lay down to rest, with their six feet pointing aft 
 and their heads on their saddle-bags. A nudge of the 
 elbow, a whisper or two, and the night's campaign 
 was planned. It was Dick's first watch, Drurie's 
 second, and Cremona's third. 
 
 Dick's two hours passed without incident. Then he 
 pinched Francis, told him that Purl and his men were 
 quiet, and instantly closed his eyes. Francis raised 
 himself on his elbow, wriggled aft a little so as to have 
 his feet well out of the open hatch and the waist of the 
 vessel well under his eye, and composed himself to 
 watch. 
 
 There was no moon, but the sky was generously 
 powdered with stars. A four-knot breeze was holding 
 steady over the taffrail. Save for the continual soft 
 
 175
 
 176 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 washing and slopping of the water along the lugger's 
 sides and under her forefoot, and the easy stir of spar 
 and canvas, there was not a sound. Under the boom 
 of the foresail the watcher could see the waist and rails 
 of the little craft as far aft as the mainmast; but 
 beyond that he could not see, for the main boom 
 was lowered almost to the cargo. He wondered what 
 the three fellows aft of the mainsail were doing. 
 
 Drurie had watched for an hour or more, when his 
 vigilance was rewarded at last by the sight of a head 
 under the boom of the mainsail. Shoulders followed, 
 and hi a moment a man was crawling forward over 
 the tarpaulins, and a second was wriggling under the 
 boom. 
 
 Drurie sat upright and advanced two pistols through 
 the hatch. By this time the second man was on the 
 cargo, and Purl himself was clawing his way beneath 
 the boom. It was evident that the tiller was lashed. 
 
 " Belay that," commanded Drurie in a low voice. 
 The two fellows who were clear of the boom lay still 
 as death; but Master Purl, only half in sight, squirmed 
 sideways a little and raised his right hand. 
 
 One of Drurie's pistols banged, and a scream of rage 
 and pain rang high above the peaceful murmurings 
 of wind and sea. 
 
 For a moment all was confusion and then silence
 
 An Elusive Quest 177 
 
 again. The members of the crew and the wounded 
 master lay in a row, bound hand and foot. 
 
 Drurie's bullet had passed through Purl's shoulder, 
 clear of the bone. Drurie washed the wound and 
 bandaged it with one of the fellow's own shirts, after 
 which he took the tiller and advised his friends to 
 return to their blankets. 
 
 The three passengers enjoyed the light work of 
 sailing and steering the Merry Andrew. The wind 
 held throughout the next day, and the lugger proved 
 herself a fast and handy craft. Cremona cooked the 
 meals in a charcoal stove which he had moved from 
 the after- cabin to the forecastle deck. The messes 
 which he managed to concoct from the rough and 
 scanty stores tasted all the better for the risk of the 
 cooking. 
 
 It was a thrilling sight to see Cremona at work 
 with spoon and pan, Francis and Dick on guard along 
 the forward edge of the tarpaulins, one of the crew 
 clinging heedlessly to the tiller, pressed into service 
 for the time, and the other two lying flat atop that 
 orderly array of powder-kegs, their faces bloodless 
 and their eyes fairly twirling with terror. 
 
 Of course there was little danger of a spark reaching 
 the powder, for the gentlemen took every precaution 
 against such a sudden and useless termination of
 
 178 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 their careers; but Purl and his men suffered a foretaste 
 of the torments of the inferno. 
 
 The day and the night were without accident or 
 any incident to disturb the voyage; but on the morning 
 of the third day out of London, while the Merry Andrew 
 was bowling along within three or four miles of the 
 coast, things began to brisk up a little. 
 
 The men aboard the lugger had been aware for 
 some time of a large schooner off their port beam, about 
 five miles to seaward, headed north under easy canvas. 
 They paid little attention to her until, all of a sudden, 
 they saw her long hull narrow to a speck on the glisten- 
 ing sea and her white sails climb aloft. She had swung 
 at right angles to her course. She was heading land- 
 ward now, with a fair wind, under all sail. 
 
 What did it mean? The passengers of the lugger 
 could not say at first, and felt both puzzled and uneasy. 
 They looked toward the land and saw neither town nor 
 harbour only desolate little coves, lilac-hued cliffs, 
 and wooded hilltops behind. 
 
 " What d'ye make of it ? " asked Francis. 
 
 Dick and Cremona shook then- heads and gazed 
 seaward again, and again shoreward. Cremona had a 
 gleam of inner light. 
 
 " I think it may be so," he said, and stepped over 
 to where Purl lay bound. " That your ship for this
 
 An Elusive Quest 179 
 
 powder," he said. " Well, what happen to us ? We 
 let you free, you say good word for us ? " 
 
 The strain of watching the big fellow cook the meals 
 so near the powder-casks had evidently dulled the 
 dishonest mariner's mind. 
 
 " I'll let bygones be bygones," he said. " Cast 
 off these lines an' I'll treat ye right." 
 
 ' Thank you," replied Cremona with a bow. " That 
 what I think. See, your friend fly signal." 
 
 Francis and Dick congratulated Cremona on his 
 sharp wits. 
 
 " You are in command of this craft, so give us your 
 orders," said Francis. 
 
 Cremona was delighted. He freed the least offensive 
 of the lugger's crew. " You drop some kegs over- 
 board," he said. Purl roared blood and thunder at 
 that. " Very good," said Cremona. He cast Purl 
 loose. " Now, you help," he said; " and you, Cap'n 
 Drurie, stand ready with a pistol; and you, Master 
 St. George " the name they had decided to call 
 Dick for the present " stand by the sheets." He 
 took the tiller and let the lugger's head fall off a point 
 or to. 
 
 The tall schooner was tearing down upon them, 
 swaying a little under her high, broad pinions. Two 
 red flags flew at her tops the prearranged signals,
 
 180 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 no doubt, for the lugger to lay-to or sail to meet 
 her. 
 
 The first keg of powder went over the Merry Andrew's 
 rail with a great splash. Purl had intentionally tipped 
 it over the windward side, hi open sight of the schooner ; 
 and the commander of the schooner had seen it, and 
 his suspicions of something wrong became a certainty. 
 
 Cremona only smiled, and again let the Merry 
 Andrew fall away a little. 
 
 Overboard went the fat kegs splash- splash - 
 into the dancing waves. Another flag came into sight 
 against the towering white of the schooner's sails. A 
 great gun sent a dull boom of warning across the 
 glittering sea. 
 
 " Bah! " exclaimed Cremona. 
 
 Purl swore lustily as he stooped to his work, and shot 
 a desperate glance at Drurie and the pistol. Drurie 
 and Dick laughed a little with the excitement of the 
 game. They could see that Cremona was bound to 
 play it for all it was worth that he had no intention 
 of showing his heels until he had to. 
 
 The tall schooner grew in their sight as if by magic, 
 rolling her slender hull, sweeping her tops in free 
 curves against the blue sky, heaping the silver foam 
 like a snowdrift under her racing foot. A white cloud 
 sprang out from under her jibs and thump came the
 
 An Elusive Quest 181 
 
 report of her bow-chaser. A sharp little tongue of 
 torn water leaped up and vanished on top of a wave 
 midway the two vessels. 
 
 By this time the lugger was just light enough to sail 
 at her best speed. Cremona held her on a gradual 
 shoreward slant. Purl and the fellow who had been 
 working on the cargo were bound again. Drurie 
 manned the foresheet and Dick the main. Cremona 
 stood on the tiny poop with the head of the tiller under 
 his right arm, coolly puffing at a roll of tobacco-leaf. 
 
 The schooner closed in on them with amazing speed, 
 firing from a gun in her bows as fast as it could be loaded 
 and trained. At last a round-shot struck the water 
 within twenty yards of the lugger. Cremona tossed 
 his burning tobacco into the sea. 
 
 " Stand by to trim her! " he cried, and pulled her 
 over fair before the piping breeze. 
 
 Francis and Dick hauled on the sheets and made fast, 
 and the Merry Andrew raced shoreward as if her heart 
 were in her heels. 
 
 The lugger was beached in a desolate little cove, on 
 shelving rocks that split her stout timbers. The three 
 travellers carried Purl and his two fellows ashore and 
 placed them, still bound, beyond the reach of the 
 water. Then they got their saddle-bags and started 
 up the steep hillside that backed upon the cove. When
 
 182 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 they were half-way up, the schooner's long-boat pulled 
 into the cove, and musket-shots and shouts of rage 
 filled the air. Bullets pattering on the rocks around 
 them renewed the flagging energies of the three gentle- 
 men. Each reflected as he scrambled aloft, dragging 
 his heavy bag, on the various ways of dying offered 
 by the world ; and each disliked the thought of ending 
 his career in this desolate cove. Death by a musket- 
 ball is all very well; but no gentleman likes to be shot 
 in the back while scrambling up a hill. 
 
 " We shaved it just about a minute too short," 
 gasped Dick. 
 
 The long-boat was now in the still waters of the 
 cove, and the rowers rested on their oars so as to give 
 the marksmen a better chance at the fugitives on the 
 hillside. Out rang another scattering volley. 
 
 Dick stumbled, and let his saddle-bag slip from his 
 grasp. By now they were within a few yards of the 
 brow of the hill. Dick got to his feet and fell again. 
 A mocking shout came up from the boat. Cremona 
 sprang to Dick's side and picked him up as if he were 
 a child. 
 
 " Only in the leg," said Dick, smiling painfully. 
 
 Cremona dashed up and over the hilltop. Drurie 
 recovered the discarded saddle-bag, and followed at 
 his best speed.
 
 An Elusive Quest 183 
 
 Before them lay a bleak moor with timbered hills 
 at the back of it, and the roofs of a village in the middle 
 distance. They continued to run for several minutes 
 over the rough hummocks of the moor, Francis keeping 
 a sharp watch over his shoulder. Three or four of the 
 boat's crew came to the top of the hill and stared after 
 them with angry cries and furious gestures; but they 
 did not offer to follow into the open. 
 
 " Easy," puffed Francis. " There is no need of 
 running any farther, for they don't want to follow us 
 to that village." 
 
 They walked forward for another hundred yards or 
 so, and then halted on the top of a low mound and 
 examined Dick's wound. The bullet, evidently a spent 
 one, had entered the muscles of the thigh to a depth 
 of an inch or two. They bound it; and Cremona 
 again took Dick in his arms, and they proceeded. 
 
 " I should have got that ball in return for nicking 
 Purl," said Francis. 
 
 " No, it was meant for me," replied Dick. " I 
 stood over him and made him work at the cargo with 
 his leg in a bandage." 
 
 " I think it should hit you in the same place, then, 
 and that no hurt," said Cremona gravely. 
 
 By the fact that the men from the schooner had not 
 followed them from the cove, they knew that the
 
 184 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 schooner was not in an honest way of trade. She was 
 a pirate, undoubtedly. 
 
 " I wish we had been aboard my own ship," said 
 Francis. " I'd give a hundred pounds for a chance to 
 burn powder with one of those gentry. Jove, I'd rather 
 sink a pirate than a Frenchman, I do believe." 
 
 The others were of the same way of thinking. Little 
 they knew that the future held a chance for them at that 
 same tall schooner and, had they known the result 
 of that chance, they might have changed their wish. 
 
 At the village they found a quiet tavern, and a man 
 who professed to a knowledge of surgery. Cremona, 
 who could talk sailor's Spanish, explained their plight 
 with an amazing story. 
 
 Then the surgeon extracted the bullet from Dick's 
 thigh. It had not touched the bone; and they were 
 thankful for that. Dick was put to bed, faint from 
 loss of blood and the pain of the operation. Francis 
 sat by his side while Cremona went down-stairs and 
 questioned the tavern-keeper. He learned that they 
 were within thirty miles of Lisbon, in Portugal. 
 
 Dick's wound kept the three in that insignificant 
 village for three weary weeks. As soon as he was fit 
 to move, they went to Lisbon by carriage; and from 
 there they travelled into Spain, and to the gay city of 
 Madrid.
 
 An Elusive Quest 185 
 
 Dick was not yet able to walk; so he kept to his 
 room while Francis and Cremona hunted through the 
 city for information concerning the Senor Josef Alca- 
 zardo. They learned all that Madrid had to teach 
 them on that subject within six hours of their arrival. 
 This was the way of it : 
 
 They were walking along a fine street, dressed as 
 well as their limited wardrobes would allow, and 
 puzzled as to how and of whom to make inquiries, 
 when a very gaily attired old gentleman dropped his 
 snuff-box almost under Drurie's feet. He uttered a 
 shrill little cry of distress; for it was a valuable old 
 box. 
 
 Quick as a wink, a ragged fellow in the crowd had 
 snatched up the box and started to run and, even 
 quicker than winking, Francis had him by the collar. 
 He pulled the box from his hand, let him go, turned 
 to the old gentleman with a bow and restored his 
 treasure to him. 
 
 The old gentleman was almost moved to tears with 
 gratitude. He embraced both Francis and Cremona, 
 and babbled his thanks. 
 
 " My friend does not understand the beautiful 
 Spanish language," said Cremona, " but I can assure 
 you, senor, that he is glad to have been able to serve 
 you."
 
 186 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 The old gentleman told Cremona his name. As it 
 was nine words long, and has nothing to do with our 
 story, I will not record it. 
 
 Cremona bowed in his best style; and Francis 
 bowed. " We are English gentlemen," said Cremona. 
 " My friend is the Captain Francis Drurie, and I am 
 the Captain Cremona your humble servants, senor" 
 
 " You must honour me with your company over a 
 bottle of wine. We can get very good wine just across 
 the square," said the Spaniard. 
 
 After they had raised their glasses to their mutual 
 well-being, Cremona asked: " Can you tell me any- 
 thing of the Senor Josef Alcazardo ? " 
 
 The old gentleman looked at them both very sharply. 
 " Yes, sir," he replied, " I can tell you that he is a 
 rascal and a cheat." 
 
 " We have suspected as much; but can you tell us 
 where he is to be found ? " returned Cremona. 
 
 " That I cannot," answered the old gentleman. 
 "To my knowledge, he has not been seen hi Madrid 
 for the last six years. I trust I trust, gentlemen, that 
 you are not friends of his." 
 
 " Far from it." 
 
 "Ah! I ask no questions." 
 
 Cremona, knowing what that meant, satisfied the 
 old gentleman's curiosity with a cock-and-bull story.
 
 An Elusive Quest 187 
 
 In return, the amiable Spaniard narrated a number of 
 unsavoury incidents of Alcazardo's career in Madrid. 
 They were not criminal, however, and most had to do 
 with cheating at play and such ill-bred peculiarities.
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 SOMETHING HEARD OF ALCAZARDO 
 
 FRANCIS and Dick were at a complete loss to know 
 where they could search next. They had expected great 
 things of Madrid. 
 
 Cremona came to their help by suggesting Cadiz, 
 a port he had visited several times in his voyagings as 
 a common sailor. He held that a man with a bad 
 name is more likely to be found on or near the sea than 
 in an inland district. His way of escape is always 
 ready to his hand; and, the seas being the great high- 
 ways of the world, he can watch for his enemies and, 
 if need be, sail out as they sail in. 
 
 " But we, you understand, come at him from the 
 inside. He look out his window at the ships we 
 walk in his back door," he concluded. 
 
 Dick's opinion was that, if he were hiding anywhere 
 in Spain, it would prove to be in some rural locality, 
 away from the gossip and traffic of the cities. 
 
 Francis was also of this way of thinking; but he 
 agreed with Cremona that the retreat was more likely 
 
 188
 
 Something Heard of Alcazardo 189 
 
 to be near the coast than inland. So they decided to 
 go to Cadiz. 
 
 It was a long journey and a dangerous one, from Ma- 
 drid to Cadiz. For the sake of Dick's leg, it was made 
 in short stages, now in a carriage, now in a country cart, 
 again astride horses, mules, or even donkeys. Some- 
 times they hired five or six villagers to accompany them 
 through the districts frequented by robbers, threw out 
 scouts and flanking parties, and advanced in the best 
 military manner. Upon reaching Cadiz they went 
 to a quiet house and informed the landlord that 
 they were English merchants interested in Spanish 
 wines. 
 
 " We once purchased a shipment from a Sefior 
 Josef Alcazardo," said Cremona. " It was good wine. 
 Can you tell me where the gentleman is now to be 
 found ? " 
 
 The innkeeper said that he knew nothing of the 
 Sefior Alcazardo, but that he would make inquiries 
 among his patrons. Cremona expressed his gratitude, 
 and proved it with a silver coin; then, leaving Dick to 
 look after his leg and the bags, the others hired horses 
 and rode out of the city to take a look at the surround- 
 ing country. They were cautious in the manner of 
 making their inquiries, fearing that their quarry might 
 get wind of them and take fright. It was always
 
 190 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 Cremona who did the talking. He had a way of 
 stopping people on the road with a polite and friendly 
 salutation. " This is a fine piece of country," he would 
 say. He would ask about last season's crops, and so 
 on; and then, casually, "I once met a gentleman 
 named Josef Alcazardo, who was from hereabouts," 
 he would say. " Perhaps you know him ? " j They spent 
 a day at this sort of thing without results. 
 
 On the evening of their first day in Cadiz, the inn- 
 keeper came to the three travellers with word that there 
 was an old fellow below who wanted to speak with 
 them. 
 
 " He will not say if he knows anything or not of 
 the Sefior Alcazardo, but he is anxious to speak with 
 the gentlemen who are looking for the senor," said 
 the innkeeper. 
 
 " Show him up," said Cremona. 
 
 It was old Juan who entered the room, cap in hand, 
 his thin cheeks slightly flushed by the wine he had 
 imbibed below. He had guessed, at the first mention 
 of the three English merchants interested in wine, 
 who wanted to know the whereabouts of his master, 
 that their visit to Cadiz had to do with the beautiful 
 young lady. He was not so anxious to answer questions 
 as to ask them. Belonging to a district in which the 
 family of Alcazardo was unknown, and never having
 
 Something Heard of Alcazardo 191 
 
 heard of the marriage of one of his master's brothers 
 with an English lady, the beautiful ward had puzzled 
 him sorely. 
 
 Cremona measured the old man at a glance. He 
 waved him to a seat, and handed him a glass of wine 
 that was very superior to the vintage which the fellow 
 had been drinking hi the public room below. 
 
 " Can you tell me anything of the Senor Josef 
 Alcazardo?" he asked, in his fluent but uncouth 
 Spanish. 
 
 Juan looked exceedingly crafty. " That's as may 
 be, senor. What do you want to know of my master ? " 
 
 " Ho, ho! So he is your master, is he? " cried Cre- 
 mona. 
 
 The old fellow's jaw dropped dismally. He had 
 not meant to let that pop out so soon. He had meant 
 to draw pay for that bit of information. Cremona 
 saw his dismay and chagrin, and laughed boisterously. 
 Dick, who had learned a little Spanish in his childhood, 
 laughed, too, and told the good news and the joke to 
 Francis. 
 
 Hope sprang high in their hearts; and Cremona 
 saw that they were about to heap questions, in two 
 languages, upon the foolish old man. He signalled to 
 them with his hand to keep quiet. 
 
 " We have business with your master," he said.
 
 192 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 " He will be very glad to see us, for we are relatives 
 of the young lady, his niece." 
 
 " Of the senorita? " cried the old man. " English 
 relatives of the Senorita Isobel ? Ah, that is interesting. 
 I can see, at a glance, that the two younger gentlemen 
 are English; but not you, senor. Still, let that pass. 
 I have wondered about the beautiful young lady's 
 relatives. And is it true, senor, that the Senor Al- 
 cazardo is her uncle ? " 
 
 " Yes, it is true. And he is her guardian, as well," 
 replied Cremona. "But these gentlemen are her near 
 relatives, and we have come a long way to visit your 
 master and the young lady." 
 
 " Well, well, to think of it and the two of them gone 
 away these months back," said Juan. 
 
 "What d'ye say? Where have they gone to?" 
 cried Dick, limping forward and clutching the old 
 fellow's shoulder. 
 
 Juan shrank back. 
 
 " Leave him to me. The man is honest enough, 
 but a bit of a fool," said Cremona, in English. Then, 
 to Juan, " The English gentleman is of a quick temper, 
 but you must not mind him," he said. " Tell me when 
 your master and the lady went away, and where they 
 went to. Here is a little piece of the right colour that 
 you may be able to make some use of." He passed a
 
 Something Heard of Alcazardo 193 
 
 gold coin into the old fellow's hand. " We are anxious 
 to know how it is that the senor went away without 
 taking his invaluable servant along with him." 
 
 Juan told every word that he knew and a great deal 
 that he only suspected. He had been about five years 
 in Alcazardo's employ, and had come, ten years 
 before, from a distant part of Spain. He was the care- 
 taker of the big house which Alcazardo owned, and had 
 never seen very much of his employer. The house was 
 usually empty; and even when he was there Alcazardo 
 made no display and received but few visitors. He 
 had nothing to do with the city of Cadiz or with his 
 neighbours, rich or poor. In fact, admitted Juan, it 
 was as much as his position was worth to mention the 
 senor' s name. 
 
 He had an idea that the senor was a great man in 
 Madrid, and there spent all his time and money. 
 Well, he'd not set eyes on his master for a matter of two 
 years, when, one fine day, he drove up in a carriage 
 with the beautiful young lady beside him. The young 
 lady had found the house very dull. His master had 
 engaged two more servants immediately one of 
 them a maid for the senorita and they had lived on 
 the fat of the land. 
 
 Yes, the senor treated the young lady like a queen. 
 And so on and so on. The old man forgot nothing. He
 
 194 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 told of the visits of the man with the black beard, of 
 Alcazardo's departure by night, of the note for Isobel, 
 and of her sudden departure. He explained that his 
 granddaughter, the maid, had gone with her mistress. 
 
 " And where did they go ? And how did they go ? " 
 asked Cremona, after he had translated everything for 
 Francis. 
 
 Juan begged permission to replenish his glass. He 
 took a slow sip or two with the air of a man about to 
 disclose the result of some very deep thinking. 
 
 " In the letter to the senorita," he said, " the senor 
 wrote that they were bound for England. But I do 
 not think that was the truth, for there are many fine 
 vessels hi the city that sail frequently to England 
 and yet the senor did not sail from Cadiz, but from a 
 little cove miles away from here, in a wild country. I 
 discovered this by much toil and wit, for the senor 
 did not confide hi me. I found the man who had 
 driven the carriage, on both occasions; and from him 
 learned that the senor, the senorita, and Maria had 
 been rowed away from the shore hi a small boat and 
 had been taken aboard a schooner. 
 
 " At first I thought that the senor had gone away 
 hi this secret manner simply to give the slip to people 
 who might be pressing him for money; but later, after 
 much reflection, I decided that it was not for lack of
 
 Something Heard of Alcazardo 195 
 
 money that my master practised such a sly way of life 
 in general. So I went again to the man who had 
 driven the carriage; and from him I learned, after 
 paying money I could ill afford, that the man with the 
 black beard and the senor were partners in a queer 
 business that sounded to him like smuggling or 
 worse. 
 
 " He had overheard a few words to put this idea 
 in his head. Also he had heard the senor tell the man 
 with the black beard that, though he was not going to 
 England, yet he intended to live a quiet life from now 
 on and would, some day, settle down hi one of the 
 English colonies as a very proper old gentleman. So 
 you may be sure that the senor and the young lady have 
 not gone to England." 
 
 The three gentlemen were greatly relieved in their 
 minds by the information obtained from Juan. Though 
 it made their quest seem all the more hopeless, yet it 
 led them to believe that Isobel was not in immediate 
 danger, in whatever part of the world she might be. 
 
 Alcazardo had stolen her money; but, evidently, he 
 was keeping up the play of being her affectionate uncle. 
 Perhaps he was not quite so bad as they had feared. 
 Perhaps he was only a thief and a liar, after all. It 
 might be that he was even planning to return to Vir- 
 ginia, fortified against Fairwood by Isobel's trust and
 
 196 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 ready to meet the charge of theft with a pack of plau- 
 sible lies. 
 
 Drurie and Cremona accompanied old Juan back 
 to Alcazardo's house and heard the same story from 
 the lips of his daughter, who had been the cook during 
 IsobePs brief stay in the place. The old man and his 
 daughter, and the daughter's husband and children, 
 occupied the servants' quarters of the house, rent free. 
 
 The woman spoke highly of Alcazardo. Indeed, in 
 that part of the world he had never shown his cloven 
 hoof. 
 
 " The senor has a kind heart," said the woman, 
 " and his manners are beautiful. He was like a father 
 to the senorita" 
 
 They gave old Juan a package of blank paper 
 addressed to a firm of merchants hi Bristol, and another 
 addressed to a firm in London; and these he was to 
 despatch by the earliest opportunity after seeing or 
 hearing anything more of his master's movements. 
 Then they paid him well for his information and re- 
 turned to their inn. 
 
 It was April when Francis and Dick and Cremona 
 got back to Bristol. There they found Mr. Henry 
 Fairwood, of Fairwood Manor, Virginia, waiting for 
 them. 
 
 Fairwood had come to England to learn what he
 
 Something Heard of Alcazardo 197 
 
 could about Alcazardo, and had already heard what 
 the London bankers had to tell. Arriving in Bristol, 
 he had learned from Nicholas that Francis and two 
 friends had gone to London and from there to Spain; 
 and so he had settled himself comfortably to await 
 their return. 
 
 After recovering from the meeting with Dick, he 
 heard the story of their quest. 
 
 " I'll go to that place," he swore, " and I'll live in 
 that house and there I'll be if that rascal ever comes 
 home. Caesar, he'll find me at headquarters; and if 
 he won't give me the girl quietly, I'll put a bullet in 
 his heart!"
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 THE BRAVE ADVENTURE A GOOD FIGHTER 
 
 MR. FAIRWOOD did not start for Spain until after 
 the sailing of the Brave Adventure for Hudson Bay. 
 Francis was still in command of the ship; for Fairwood 
 had urged him not to give up his work. He had pointed 
 out that nothing could be done beyond keeping a sharp 
 eye on the house near Cadiz and that was what he 
 himself meant to do. 
 
 " If he so much as shows his nose I'll be on him," 
 said the old man. " Go and do your work, lad, and 
 trust to fate aye, and to your Uncle Henry. 'Twill 
 all come right, I tell you. The man hasn't courage 
 enough to do more than steal and lie and make a 
 monkey of himself. You'll find that I have the girl 
 safe and sound when you get back, never fear." 
 
 So Francis sailed away on the Brave Adventure, and 
 Mr. Fairwood set out next day for Spain, with hope 
 and courage in his heart, and the two trusty servants 
 he had brought with him all the way from Vir- 
 ginia. 
 
 198
 
 A Good Fighter 199 
 
 With Captain Francis Drurie sailed two gentlemen 
 adventurers who had not made the first voyage 
 Mr. St. George and Captain Cremona. Both these 
 gentlemen had wanted to help Mr. Fairwood in his 
 passive game in Spain; but they had been told to go 
 about their business like men. So they had gone, 
 feeling deep in their hearts that there was as much 
 likelihood of finding Alcazardo on the sea as in 
 Spain. 
 
 The master of the Brave Adventure was a middle- 
 aged mariner named Benjamin Danvers. He was a 
 brave, capable fellow and a great admirer and firm 
 friend of Drurie's. Under him were two mates, a 
 boatswain, and twelve sailors. Under Drurie's con- 
 trol were his lieutenant, young Lawrence Prowse, two 
 adventurers besides Dick and Cremona, Duff and 
 Tizard by name, Master-gunners Mann and Tyler, 
 four gunners' mates and a master-armourer. 
 
 Drurie was in command of the ship; but Danvers 
 was supreme as sailing-master. It was for Drurie 
 to name the course, but for the master to sail it. It 
 was not in the commander's province to give orders 
 to, or in any way interfere with, the sailors at their 
 work; but the moment the guns were manned the 
 master, his mates, and his mariners came under 
 Drurie's command in everything. This system of
 
 200 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 marine administration called for tact and fairminded- 
 ness on the part of the commander and the master, 
 and, indeed, on the part of all the officers. 
 
 The Brave Adventure soon had the rest of the little 
 fleet hull-down astern. Shortly before sunset, Drurie 
 ascended to the high poop-deck, with the master at 
 his right hand, Mr. Prowse at his left, and the gentle- 
 men and the two mates behind him. The boatswain 
 piped both watches on deck and paraded them in the 
 waist of the ship. 
 
 It was a scene typical of those rough, unsophisticated 
 days when manliness was the common characteristic 
 of all classes of Englishmen. The fellows in the waist 
 were of all ages and all sizes. The boatswain was a 
 thin little man of over sixty years of age, with a long 
 white scar on his brown neck, two fingers gone from 
 his right hand, a pigtail tarred like a stay, a whimsical 
 mouth and eyes as round and quick as a bird's. One 
 of the master-gunners was big, elderly, and ruddy- 
 faced; the other lank, young, and brown of skin. 
 The master- armourer had the face and bearing of a 
 parson's clerk; but his earrings, crimson sash, and 
 great boots of yellow Spanish leather suggested a less 
 peaceful way of life. The variety of age, attire, and 
 physical appearance continued throughout the re- 
 mainder of the crew. The officers on the poop were
 
 A Good Fighter 201 
 
 scarcely more uniform in any of these particulars. 
 All except the two mates wore their swords. 
 
 Francis Drurie's face was thin and pale; but, as 
 he looked down at his men, his eyes brightened and a 
 tinge of red warmed his cheeks. 
 
 " Lads," he said, " here we are again, bound on a 
 long and rough voyage. We'll run the risks of fog, 
 wind and drifting ice. But we have good timber under 
 our feet and good spars and hemp aloft, and honest 
 work to do for the king and the company. Speaking 
 for Master Danvers and myself, and the other officers, 
 I ask you to show the same courage and willingness as 
 you showed last year. I ask no more than that. Let 
 the new men follow the old, and they'll not go wrong 
 for the lads who sailed with me last voyage proved 
 themselves hearts of oak. Do your work as honest 
 sailors and you shall be treated as all honest lads are 
 treated aboard the Brave Adventure. Boatswain, rum 
 for all hands." 
 
 He lifted his hat to the rough fellows, smiled down 
 at them and turned away. Then the crew roared all 
 together as one man. They waved their tarry hands 
 aloft and shouted their commander's name with all 
 their might. Drurie turned and bowed again, his face 
 aglow and his eyes gleaming. 
 
 Dick, who went by the name of St. George, and Cre-
 
 202 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 mona got along finely with the other gentlemen and the 
 crew. Dick was not inclined to talk, and Cremona 
 was inclined to chatter all the time; and yet they 
 were both popular. Cremona told wonderful stories 
 of famous people and strange places few of which, 
 I fear, were true. But they were interesting tales and 
 ruined no reputations. 
 
 Fore and aft, peace and good will reigned aboard the 
 Brave Adventure. The commander and the master 
 never dashed, the gentlemen engaged in no bickerings; 
 the men did their work and sang their songs and kept 
 their knives to cut their salt beef and scrape the spars 
 with. No head winds came to delay them, and no fog 
 shrouded them; and so, for eight days, the little ship 
 held peacefully on her course, all well inboard and 
 overboard, aloft and alow. 
 
 On the morning of the ninth day out of Bristol, 
 while the gentlemen were breakfasting, White, the 
 second mate, thrust his head into the cabin. 
 
 " Schooner on the port quarter, sir, bearing up under 
 all sail," he said. 
 
 This was addressed to Drurie; but the commander 
 turned to Danvers as if to refer the matter to 
 him. 
 
 Danvers left his seat at the crowded table. 
 
 " She may be a French privateer, sir, or a Sallee
 
 A Good Fighter 203 
 
 rover or some other breed of pirate," he said. " What 
 are your wishes, sir ? " 
 
 " Hold to your course under reduced sail, Master 
 Danvers/' replied Francis. 
 
 Danvers grinned and hurried from the cabin. The 
 gentlemen ceased talking and began to eat very fast, 
 eager to get on deck. 
 
 The Brave Adventure's mainsail was furled and two 
 of her jibs were hauled down. This reduced her pace 
 by several knots an hour. All hands gathered on 
 the decks for a look at the strange vessel that was so 
 openly cracking on all sail to overhaul them. They 
 were of opinion that the schooner was not a trading 
 vessel; and in this their hearts spoke. The schooner 
 grew momentarily to the view. Francis studied her 
 through his telescope for a long time, without comment. 
 The master, standing beside him, also had his glass 
 bearing on her. 
 
 " What do you make of her? " asked Francis. 
 
 " I make her either Spanish or English, sir, an' a 
 smart craft," replied Danvers. 
 
 Drurie handed his telescope to Cremona. " Tell 
 me if you ever saw anything just like her before," he 
 said. 
 
 Cremona looked, and uttered an exclamation of 
 wonder and delight. " I think I see her one day
 
 204 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 or her very twin sister off the coast o' Portugal," 
 he said. 
 
 Francis Drurie laughed lightly and, with his hands 
 clasped behind him, fell to pacing the narrow deck 
 from rail to rail. He felt sure that the approaching 
 vessel was an enemy of some sort. Ten to one it was 
 the same craft that gave them such a dashing shoreward 
 race on the day they beached the Merry Andrew on 
 the rocks of the desolate cove. 
 
 Here was something to take his mind for a little 
 while off his gnawing worries. Here he was, with his 
 own ship under him and trusty men round him on the 
 threshold of his first sea-fight. His blood drummed in 
 his arteries and he felt an impulse to shout. 
 
 But he must keep cool. Here were thirty men and 
 a fine ship ready to do his bidding. He must keep clear- 
 headed, and prove himself worthy of their trust. He 
 halted, turned a flushed face toward the schooner, and 
 then touched Danvers on the arm. 
 
 " We must fight to a finish," he said. " I want play 
 at long range for a little while; and if that does not fix 
 her, broadsides at pistol-range. But do not let her 
 get her irons on us, for they may be three to our 
 one. Now it is for you to sail and for me to 
 fight." 
 
 Danvers grasped the commander's hand. " I'll do
 
 A Good Fighter 205 
 
 my best, captain," said he. "I'll lay her to your 
 taste, sir, never fear." 
 
 The schooner was sweeping up on them at a fine 
 pace, now pitching high, now dippping her sharp bow 
 deep as the gilded fiddles. Danvers shot a calculating 
 glance at her, and then bellowed forward. In a minute 
 the big mainsail was shaken out again and the brig 
 sprang ahead. Drurie, who was inspecting the crews 
 of the guns, noticed this and smiled. He knew that 
 Danvers was not running away. 
 
 Still the schooner drew nearer. A topsail was furled 
 aboard the brig and the two upper jibs were run up 
 again. The master wanted her just so, and was sparing 
 no pains to get her exactly suited to his needs. He 
 wanted her swift and handy at the same time. The 
 mate seemed to echo his commands almost before they 
 were clear of his lips. The first mate stood by the 
 mainmast and the second by the fore. The boatswain's 
 pipe shrilled merrily. The commander went the 
 rounds of the little ship, with a word of encouragement 
 for every one. 
 
 He gave Prowse command of one broadside of four 
 heavy cannon and Dick command of the other. He 
 posted Tizard forward with the bow-chaser and Duff 
 aft with the four swivels. He kept Cremona with 
 him; and Nicholas followed the two, with his master's
 
 206 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 telescope under one arm and a cutlass under the 
 other. 
 
 The decks were cleared for action. Cutlasses and 
 muskets were served to all hands, the guns loaded and 
 the linstocks and pots of red coals were brought to 
 the gunners. Now Danvers had the sails to his liking, 
 and handed over eight of his mariners to Drurie for 
 service with the guns. 
 
 The schooner, still drawing gradually nearer, fired 
 a gun from her bows. The shot fell short of the brig. 
 At that, Drurie ran up the red ensign of England. In 
 answer, a great square of black crawled up to the 
 foretop of the schooner. A roar of anger and derision 
 went up from the decks of the Brave Adventure. Drurie 
 left the poop and again made a round of the guns, the 
 men cheering at the sight of him. Again the schooner 
 fired, with the same lack of result as before. 
 
 The brig swung southward a few points. Then 
 Mr. Prowse, who commanded the guns on the port 
 side, took off his coat, bared his right arm to the elbow 
 and drew his sword. He came of a sea-fighting family 
 and had the heart of a giant behind his ribs; but he 
 was young, slender of build, with a pink-and-white 
 face and an arm like a girl's. 
 
 " Man your guns, my lads," he cried. " We'll 
 have the first crack at them, by the looks of things.
 
 A Good Fighter 207 
 
 It will be a guinea for each gun if the splinters fly at 
 the first round." 
 
 The schooner was nearer now, heading a trifle more 
 to the westward, with the wind fair over her taffrail. 
 Now she furled her topsail and stowed her gafftopsail. 
 Again she fired; and this time the shot went skipping 
 over the water about fifty yards from the brig's stern. 
 Prowse looked up anxiously at Drurie. Drurie met 
 the glance and nodded. 
 
 " On her hull, lads," cried Prowse. " Not too high. 
 Steady. Fire!" 
 
 The priming hi the touch-holes flashed and the big 
 guns roared and recoiled, and the white smoke poured 
 out and clung to the jumping seas. 
 
 From the brig the eager watchers saw a stick of 
 timber spring up from the schooner's rail and rip 
 through her mainsail. 
 
 " So we gets our money, I take it," observed an 
 ancient mariner. 
 
 After another volley from Mr. Prowse's guns which 
 hulled the schooner high above the water-line, the 
 Brave Adventure circled to the west and north again. 
 The schooner shifted after her, firing again and again 
 from the great gun in her bows, bent on knocking a 
 spar out of her quarry and then getting to close quarters. 
 
 Twenty minutes passed in silence aboard the brig.
 
 208 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 A ball from the pirate entered the empty forecastle. 
 Another sank into the heavy timber under the neck 
 of the tiller. Then Dick's guns bellowed out, hurling 
 their iron defiance into the enemy's rigging. The 
 schooner swung and replied with a broadside of light 
 metal that did nothing more than knock a few splinters 
 into the air. 
 
 The vessels drew gradually closer, sailing the same 
 course, with the schooner to windward. Musketry 
 fire opened on the schooner and the balls began hum- 
 ming over the brig's bulwarks. Then Dick's four 
 guns spoke again and the schooner's foretopmast 
 fell to port, and hung in a useless mass of flapping 
 canvas and tangled cordage. And that was the begin- 
 ning of the end. 
 
 Danvers worked the Brave Adventure to windward 
 of the crippled pirate. Keeping clear of her heavy 
 bow-chaser, he gave Drurie the opportunity to send 
 broadside after broadside into her. There was no 
 danger now of the grappling-irons of the schooner 
 getting their clutch upon the brig. 
 
 The company's vessel chose her position and bat- 
 tered her late pursuer at any range that suggested 
 itself to the master and the commander. 
 
 Surrender is a thing unknown to craft of the schoon- 
 er's kidney for a man had better die fighting than
 
 A Good Fighter 209 
 
 kicking his feet in the air with a rope around his neck. 
 So the schooner's black flag flew until the topmast fell, 
 and was then run up in the mizzen rigging. 
 
 At last Drurie requested the master to lay the brig 
 aboard the disabled, shattered hulk. It was accom- 
 plished within fifteen minutes of the word, Mr. Prowse 
 scorching the schooner's side with a final volley of 
 his guns even as the two vessels came together. Irons 
 were thrown, and the big, broken schooner and the 
 little, uninjured brig closed in a death-grip. This 
 was the pirate's last chance. 
 
 Her company of eighty cutthroats had been reduced 
 to a disorganized handful by the gun and musket fire 
 of the brig; but that desperate handful scrambled 
 aboard the Brave Adventure. 
 
 The first to leap upon the brig's deck was a short, 
 sturdy fellow with a great, black beard twisted into a 
 dozen little tails, each tail tied with a yellow ribbon. 
 He flashed a cutlass and roared like a bull. But 
 Cremona met him and that was the end of the 
 career of Black Monk, one of the bloodiest pirates 
 of the time and a business acquaintance of the Senor 
 Josef Alcazardo. 
 
 His followers were speedily served in the same way, 
 every rogue of them fighting to the last. The decks of 
 the Brave Adventure ran red with the blood of her
 
 210 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 enemies. After twenty minutes of this frantic struggle 
 there was not a pirate left to hang to the yard- 
 arm. 
 
 Francis Drurie and a small escort went aboard the 
 schooner to investigate. They found her in ballast. 
 The hull was shot through in a dozen places, and 
 she was filling fast. Every spar was more or less 
 disabled. Every gun was dismounted and dead men 
 sprawled everywhere. A fire was smouldering in a 
 mass of fallen sails on the forecastle-head. Amidships, 
 in the litter of corpses, splintered wood, blood, and 
 overthrown gear, lay several puncheons of rum with 
 the bungs out. The rank liquor mixed with the ranker 
 blood in the scuppers. 
 
 Drurie entered the houses under the high poop- 
 deck. On the table in the outer cabin lay scattered 
 playing-cards, a couple of leather dice-boxes, and a 
 broken bottle. The table was wet, and a puddle of 
 wine lay on the table. Mr. Prowse stooped and picked 
 something from the floor. It was a small shot from 
 one of the brig's swivels. 
 
 " Duff broke the bottle," he remarked, with a 
 nervous laugh. 
 
 Duff laughed, too, quite immoderately. They were 
 young men; and, though they had made more than 
 one voyage, this was their first experience in exter-
 
 AFTER TWENTY MINUTES OF THIS FRANTIC STRUGGLE 
 THERE WAS NOT A PIRATE LEFT."
 
 A Good Fighter 
 
 minating pirates. They were both a trifle shaken, 
 beyond a doubt. 
 
 Tizard was cooler. He had once sailed a voyage 
 to the West Indies as a midshipman aboard a sloop- 
 of-war. 
 
 " I put a shot hereabouts," he said, hunting around. 
 " Danvers didn't give me many chances; but I took 
 what he gave. Ah, here we are! " He pointed with 
 an air of satisfaction at a hole low in the port side 
 of the cabin and at another low in the starboard side. 
 " I wish they'd been playing cards when that went 
 through," he said. 
 
 Drurie kicked open a door in the forward bulkhead 
 and passed into the inner cabin, with his gentlemen 
 crowding after him. The cabin was a fine one, gilded 
 and carved and hung with silk. It was the full width 
 of the stern. There were long lockers aft, under the 
 square ports, and a bunk against the forward bulk- 
 head. Fine rugs covered the deck underfoot. The 
 gentlemen kicked these rugs into a heap and soon found 
 a little hatch. It was locked; so they broke it open 
 with an ax. In a twinkling they were down in the 
 lazaretto. Only the commander and two seamen 
 remained above in the cabin. 
 
 Drurie went to the bunk and felt under the pillows 
 and mattress. First he produced a small pistol,
 
 212 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 beautifully inlaid with gold and mother-of-pearl. 
 This he passed to one of the men, who placed it on 
 the table. Next came a small leather bag full of all 
 manner of sparkling gems; then a canvas bag full of 
 gold corns, another of silver coins, and yet another of 
 all kinds of gold and silver trinkets, some with jewels 
 set in them, and some without. 
 
 As the men spread the contents of the bags on the 
 table, Drurie glanced over them indifferently. But 
 suddenly, with a sharp cry, he stepped forward and 
 snatched up one of the trinkets. 
 
 It was a small gold cross, studded with pearls. 
 
 He held it close to his eyes, staring horribly. His 
 face went gray as ashes. " My God! " he cried, leaning 
 heavily against the table. 
 
 Two of the seamen put their arms about him. Still 
 he stared at the little cross hi the palm of his hand. At 
 that moment, Dick came up from the lazaretto with 
 two dull bars of silver hi his arms; but at sight of his 
 friend's face he let them fall and sprang forward. 
 
 " What is it ? Are you hurt ? " he cried, pushing one 
 of the men aside. 
 
 Drurie shook his head and held the little cross before 
 Dick's eyes. Dick looked at it, wonderingly at first, 
 and then with a light of terrified recognition in his 
 eyes.
 
 A Good Fighter 213 
 
 Yes, it was like the cross his sister had always worn at 
 her throat, since she was a little girl. He remembered 
 now Francis had given it to her for a birthday gift. 
 
 Suddenly Drurie slipped the cross into his pocket 
 and began to hunt through the other trinkets. He 
 spread the little pile of gold and silver with trembling 
 fingers. Here were rings and brooches, bracelets 
 and earrings; but not one of these did he recognize 
 as ever having been worn by Isobel. 
 
 Dick, reading his thought, began searching through 
 the contents of the other bags; but nothing other than 
 the pearl-studded cross resembled anything of IsobePs. 
 
 " There are a thousand crosses like that in the world," 
 said Dick. 
 
 " I hope it is so," replied Francis, looking about 
 him like one just awakened from an evil dream. 
 
 Now, all the gentlemen were up from the lazaretto, 
 with a small treasure of bar silver, silks, spices, and 
 such costly merchandise. 
 
 A sailor looked into the cabin. " She be settlin' 
 fast, sir," he said. 
 
 " Gather up the stuff," ordered Drurie, " and get 
 back to the brig." 
 
 Then he searched every inch of the cabin, tearing 
 down the hangings with his hands; but nothing of 
 IsobePs could he find.
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 ISOBEL LEARNS HER UNCLE'S REAL NATURE 
 
 ALCAZARDO'S little schooner, the Twelve Apostles, 
 bore westward and southward across the Atlantic 
 day after day, with fine weather and fair winds. 
 
 Once she was sighted and followed for a few hours 
 by an English war-ship, and on another occasion a 
 big topsail- schooner wasted half a day hi driving 
 along in her wake. 
 
 When Isobel recovered from the swoon caused by 
 Alcazardo's sudden disclosure of his duplicity, she 
 found herself hi a tiny cabin, lying hi a narrow berth, 
 with Maria bending over her. She stared vaguely at the 
 maid for a moment, then remembered and understood. 
 
 For a little while anger and scorn drove fear and 
 caution from her, and she went straight up to the deck 
 and charged her uncle with being a liar and a rascal. 
 He laughed quietly; but later he came down to her 
 cabin and warned her against another such outbreak. 
 He spoke calmly enough, but she trembled before the 
 light in his eyes. 
 
 214
 
 Her Uncle's Real Nature 215 
 
 " And I want you and your maid to understand," 
 he said, " that I am not known aboard this craft or 
 on my island as either Alcazardo or your uncle. I am 
 Captain Gomez, and you are my daughter. Under- 
 stand this, or it will be the worse for you." 
 
 For two weeks Isobel did not once look at or speak 
 to her uncle; but at last it came to her that her only 
 hope of ever escaping from him lay in hiding her real 
 feelings from him as much as possible. She was young, 
 and while she lived there would always be hope; but 
 worldly hope cannot survive death. 
 
 Yes, she was young, and life meant the chance of 
 finding her lover again. She would try to hide her 
 hate and suffering. She would watch the rascal. If 
 need be, she would kill him. She would treasure her 
 life day by day, guarding it with lies and deception. 
 She would risk everything but her honour to save it; 
 for, if life were to bring her again to her lover, it was 
 dearer to her than everything but honour. 
 
 When the island was sighted she pretended interest 
 in it. Her uncle smiled sardonically. But he loved to 
 talk, possessing the social instinct to an amazing 
 degree. He told her, in glowing terms, what a charm- 
 ing spot it was, and of the beautiful house surrounded 
 by groves and gardens. 
 
 She looked at him with tears in her eyes. The
 
 216 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 tears were genuine, but the pleading, trusting tones in 
 which she spoke to him were not. 
 
 " But we shall not live here a great while? You will 
 take me back to Virginia soon, won't you ? " she said. 
 
 He looked at her sharply, with a sneering smile. 
 So she was a harmless fool, after all. He had begun 
 to fear that she had a mind. He was glad to find that 
 she was a fool. He had robbed her and lied to her, 
 and here she was looking at him like a dove. 
 
 " My dear," he said, with something of his old man- 
 ner, " I am so hounded by my enemies that I fear 
 we shall have to live quietly on my little island there 
 for a year or two. I have many troubles, so you must 
 forgive me, my dear, if I sometimes act and speak in a 
 way that hurts your tender feelings." 
 
 " I know you do not mean to be unkind," replied the 
 girl faintly. 
 
 There was a certain excitement in this play that 
 raised her spirits. She could see that the man believed 
 her to be a fool. Ah, he should learn, some day, who 
 was the fool! 
 
 He talked to her as to a child, without trying to 
 keep the sneering amusement which he felt from his 
 voice and manner. 
 
 " And what shall I do when we go back to Virginia ? " 
 he asked. " Your friends do not like me; and I am
 
 Her Uncle's Real Nature 217 
 
 too poor a man to live in one of those fine houses and 
 keep up a fine place? " 
 
 " But when I tell everybody how kind you have 
 been to me, they will be kind to you," replied the girl. 
 " And if you are poor, you can have my money; and 
 Hopeland, too, when I marry." 
 
 Alcazardo could scarcely believe his ears. He 
 glanced away and grinned devilishly. Why, a man 
 could do anything with a fool like this! After all, he 
 had stolen only half her property; and old Fairwood 
 was sure to die, in a year or two, of overeating. It was 
 worth considering. She would give him Hopeland, 
 would she? 
 
 " I could not think of accepting your property, 
 my dear," he said, with a leer. 
 
 " But, as you are poor, you must," she replied 
 guilelessly. " I shall not need it. But please tell me 
 why you are not known by your real name on this 
 ship and on the island? I hope you have not done 
 anything wrong." 
 
 This was just the kind of idiotic question Alcazardo 
 was expecting from the simple little fool. It was 
 interesting almost as interesting as the first winning 
 of her trust in Virginia. But never until now had he 
 suspected her of being quite so stupid and trusting 
 as the last few minutes had proved her.
 
 218 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 " My dear girl," he said, " the officers of the law are 
 after me for shooting a man. It happened before I 
 ever saw you. I was walking along a quiet street in 
 Madrid one day, when I saw a man attack a woman and 
 beat her with a stick. I was so overcome with rage 
 that I drew a pistol and shot him. He was a great 
 man; and I have been hunted ever since. I have been 
 afraid to tell you this, my dear Isobel, for I could not 
 bear to have you look upon me as a murderer." 
 
 " I think it was very noble of you," replied the girl, 
 looking at him with wonder in her eyes. 
 
 But the wonder was at the ease and fertility of his 
 imagination and the depth of his rascality. 
 
 " If I must pretend to be your daughter, I must 
 call you father," she said. 
 
 He laughed aloud, and patted her head as a man pats 
 the head of an amusing dog. 
 
 " Certainly, my dear," he said in a nasty but merry 
 vein. " Call me papa, by all means. I am proud of 
 my lovely, clever daughter. And when we go back to 
 Virginia, what a stir the poor old don will make, to 
 be sure, with his beautiful daughter and his fine son- 
 in-law. I see that I have great times before me." 
 
 Isobel retired to her cabin for a little while. She 
 prayed and it was a queer prayer. She prayed to 
 be forgiven the lies which she had spoken and acted,
 
 Her Uncle's Real Nature 219 
 
 and for strength and cunning to tell and act more 
 lies. 
 
 She was soon on deck again, standing timidly beside 
 her uncle and gazing with round eyes and exclama- 
 tions of assumed delight at the white-and-green island 
 that grew so swiftly in the field of sparkling blue. 
 
 As the little schooner drew near the eastern coast, 
 the master of the island saw a small group of men 
 down on the white beach between the lagoon and the 
 fringe of cocoanut-trees. One was waving a white 
 flag frantically seaward. Through his telescope the 
 proprietor could see that the others of the group were 
 facing landward and held muskets in their hands. His 
 black eyes fairly glistened with rage. He called the 
 master of the schooner to him. 
 
 " I have been away from my darlings too long this 
 trip," he said. " See, they have driven their drivers 
 almost into the lagoon. Clear the bow-gun and load 
 her with canister, and we'll let them know that the 
 don has come home again." 
 
 He smiled as he spoke, but it was a smile to chill a 
 man's blood. The big gun in the schooner's bow was 
 stripped of her canvas jacket, loaded, and run forward 
 in double time. It was easy to see that the rough, 
 masterless-looking fellows were in fear of Alcazardo. 
 
 He stepped close to one of them a huge, blond
 
 220 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 fellow with the devil's mark on his face and a body like 
 a gladiator's and the fellow shrank aside with a little 
 gasp of fear. The do-n had his children well in hand. 
 
 Now the schooner was within a hundred yards of 
 the mouth of the gap in the reef opening into the 
 lagoon. She moved slowly and steadily forward 
 under her main-jib. From her deck a mob of blacks 
 and ragged, brick-red whites could be seen among the 
 gray stems of the cocoanut-trees. They were armed 
 with hoes and cane-knives. They shouted mad, 
 wordless threats at the half-dozen fellows on the beach, 
 and even at the schooner. 
 
 The schooner drifted through the gap. Alcazardo 
 sighted the long cannon. At the glow of the red spark 
 of the linstock, the men on the sand ran to the very 
 edge of the water and threw themselves flat. The 
 poor maddened fools beyond dashed out into open 
 sight. Then the cannon belched and roared across 
 the still waters of the lagoon. 
 
 Half a dozen of the slaves fell and twisted on the 
 white sand. The others turned and fled, their cries of 
 anger thinned to screams of fear. 
 
 One of the overseers scrambled to his feet, screamed, 
 and fell forward into the water. Alcazardo smiled, 
 took the burning linstock from the gunner and touched 
 it to the tip of a slender roll of paper and tobacco
 
 Her Uncle's Real Nature 
 
 which he held between his lips. In returning it, he 
 struck the flame against the gunner's wrist. The 
 fellow did not flinch, but a horrid film of terror dimmed 
 his eyes. 
 
 " That was a good shot," said the master of the 
 island. " Now they know that the don is home again 
 and the days of love and peace returned." 
 
 Isobel had gone to her cabin, white of face and 
 convulsed with sobs, the moment after the firing of 
 the cannon. Maria followed her. Isobel turned and 
 threw her arms around the other's neck. 
 
 " To think," she cried, " he murders, and smiles! 
 Oh, Maria, we have come to hell itself! May I have 
 strength to look him in the eyes to blind him 
 to befool him. He shoots down his labourers as one 
 would shoot quail!" 
 
 The Spanish maid was frightened, and did her best 
 to quiet her mistress. 
 
 " But they had knives in their hands," she said. 
 " They were terrible. They were like beasts. The 
 senor had to fire upon them, to save the poor men on 
 the sand." 
 
 " Yes, Maria, you are right and I am very foolish," 
 replied the lady, in low, hard tones. " The beasts 
 were ready to kill their loving master. How he must 
 grieve at having killed one of his overseers."
 
 222 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 They heard the cable roar over the iron lip of the 
 hawse-hole, and the splash of the anchor in the 
 lagoon. 
 
 Isobel dried her eyes, forced a smile to her lips, 
 and returned to the deck. The maid followed her. 
 
 The schooner was at rest on the crystal water, 
 midway between the reef and the beach of powdered 
 coral. Already a boat was pulling away from her, 
 with Alcazardo in the stern-sheets. The master of 
 the little craft stepped up to Isobel with a respectful 
 salutation. 
 
 " The don has gone ashore to set things right for 
 your arrival, senorita," he said. " He will return for 
 you in a few minutes." 
 
 Isobel eyed him steadily. " Have you been long in 
 the service of of my father?" she asked, speaking 
 very quietly. 
 
 The mariner shifted from one mahogany- hued foot 
 to the other, and gazed landward. " For a matter of 
 two years, maybe," he said. 
 
 " What is this vessel used for? " asked the girl. 
 
 " For trading among the islands. But see, the don 
 is looking back at us," replied the fellow nervously. 
 " I'd better get along with my work." 
 
 The don, as everybody called Alcazardo on the 
 schooner, soon returned for Isobel, Maria, and his own
 
 Her Uncle's Real Nature 223 
 
 and their baggage. He seemed in high spirits, as 
 if the little matter of the charge of canister had cheered 
 him. 
 
 He helped Isobel over the rail and into the boat 
 with a fine air. He lifted Maria down bodily and 
 Maria blushed and flashed her black eyes at him. 
 
 The boat was beached near the spot where the 
 overseer had fallen. The body had been carried away, 
 but there was still a dabble of blood on the sand. 
 Further up the shore two slaves were lifting the last 
 remaining body of their murdered comrades and 
 these were two of the same who had brandished their 
 cane-knives so defiantly only a few minutes before. 
 
 A narrow path led through the grove of cocoanut- 
 trees. The underbrush on either hand, between the 
 smooth, gray stems, was of white wood and manchineel. 
 The pale- brown soil was full of holes into which great 
 land-crabs scuttled and turned, ready to scuttle out 
 again. 
 
 From the landward edge of the grove Isobel had 
 her first sight of the house a full view of it all in a 
 flash, looking like a picture in a book. It stood on a 
 gentle rise of land, pink-walled, pink-roofed, with 
 wide, low eaves and deep galleries. In front, a dozen 
 cabbage-palms lifted their rustling crests high in the 
 sweep of the trades; the long leaves springing with
 
 224 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 almost artificial regularity from the green, jade-like 
 stem that topped the gray pillar of the trunk. 
 
 At one side stood the squat tower of the windmill 
 in which the canes were crushed, and a cluster of 
 stables and outhouses; and between these and the 
 house a walled garden, with bright, strange foliage 
 gleaming above the walls. 
 
 On the other side stood a fine grove of mahogany- 
 trees; and everywhere gleamed the tender green of 
 sugar-canes and the banner-like leaves of bananas 
 and plantains. A mile away, in the centre of the 
 island, arose two moderate, rounded hills shrouded in 
 dark foliage. Overhead swam a cloudless sky of palest 
 azure. 
 
 The first few days of IsobePs stay on the little 
 island of Madiana, of which the don was sole pro- 
 prietor and the only settler, passed quietly. The house 
 was large and comfortable, and through the windows 
 and doors and along the galleries the wind drove 
 steadily all day and all night. 
 
 Alcazardo was busy with affairs of the plantation; 
 and those affairs seemed far away from the cool and 
 quiet house. No smothered curses, cries of pain, or 
 sound of blows reached the garden or the peaceful 
 rooms. 
 
 For three days Isobel saw her uncle only during
 
 Her Uncle's Real Nature 225 
 
 meals, and he was sneeringly agreeable and a shade 
 preoccupied. He spoke only of the most unimportant 
 matters, and did not mention the dastardly deed by 
 which he had announced his arrival to his slaves. 
 Isobel had seen, on that first day, that several of these 
 poor creatures were whites; but she did not dare, 
 just then, to question Alcazardo on the point. 
 
 On the evening of the third day, after the sudden, 
 purple night had fallen, Isobel happened upon her 
 uncle and Maria talking earnestly together on the 
 front steps of the gallery. The don came straight to 
 Isobel, took her hand and drew her aside. 
 
 " Maria says that she wants to return to Spain," 
 he said, in a voice sufficiently loud for the maid to 
 hear. " I have been telling her that she cannot go 
 home for some months in fact, that she shall be 
 taken to Virginia before she ever sees Spain again. 
 I consider this very unkind of the girl, and I have told 
 her so. You are a good mistress and a good friend to 
 her. And she is well paid. I cannot understand what 
 more she wants." 
 
 Isobel did not believe a word of this rigmarole. But 
 she pretended to believe every word of it. " Oh, she 
 does not mean it. Surely she does not mean to leave 
 me! " she cried. 
 
 Maria slipped into the house without a word. Al-
 
 226 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 cazardo told his ward to take heart, for the girl could 
 not leave her, however much she might want to. 
 
 Isobel pretended to take comfort from this assurance. 
 " I must beg her not to think of such a thing," she 
 murmured, and ran into the house and up to the room 
 which she shared with Maria. 
 
 She found the Spanish girl there sitting idly on 
 the edge of her cot. She went to her, knelt before her 
 and took both her hands in hers. 
 
 " Maria, tell me what you and the senor were talking 
 about," she pleaded. 
 
 "I told him that it was my desire to return im- 
 mediately to Spain," replied the maid in a small voice. 
 
 " Maria, you are not telling me the truth," said 
 Isobel, accusingly. " You are repeating something 
 that he has told you to say. I know it by your voice, 
 even as I heard the lie hi his. Have you, too, turned 
 against me, Maria?" 
 
 The maid began to cry. " I have not turned against 
 you," she sobbed. " But I fear the senor and he 
 treats me very kindly. I am but a poor servant-maid. 
 I am not good and clever like you, Dona Isobel. 
 You need not fear him, for you are a great lady, and 
 rich, and he will treasure you for what you may do 
 for him in the future. Oh, I see that. But who am 
 I to dare to anger him? And yet he treats me very
 
 Her Uncle's Real Nature 227 
 
 kindly and and I cannot tell you what he said to 
 me." 
 
 " You need not tell me," returned Isobel. " Have 
 you no spirit ? Here is a knife see, it is sharp as 
 flame! I carry it always. Take it, Maria! " 
 
 " No, I do not want it! " cried the maid. " I am 
 neither a great lady nor a fool. Life is good. If he 
 loves me, why should I kill myself ? " 
 
 " Poor creature. Poor little Maria," whispered her 
 mistress ; and she kissed her and wept over her. 
 
 Next morning Alcazardo said: " I have decided to 
 let the girl go back to Spain, after all. Her heart is 
 set on it; and I can find you a very good servant 
 among the slave women. The schooner leaves at 
 noon." 
 
 Isobel had not the heart to make any answer. She 
 went to her room; and soon Maria came, kissed her 
 passionately, wet her face with tears, and went away. 
 
 Isobel saw that the maid's eyes and cheeks were 
 aglow ; and she was silent under the wonder and horror 
 of it. An hour later, she watched the little schooner 
 sail out of the lagoon; and she knew that it was not 
 bound for Spain, and that Maria was not on board. 
 
 Two months later, Isobel learned of Maria's death 
 at the hands of a jealous mulatto woman.
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 
 THE ICE-FLOE 
 
 AFTER her engagement with the schooner of the 
 notorious Black Monk, the Royal Company's brig 
 completed her westward voyage without further dis- 
 turbance. 
 
 Drurie divided the treasure of the pirate among his 
 officers and crew, every man being served according 
 to his rating. The provisions from the schooner's 
 lazaretto were not reckoned or divided, but went to 
 the brig's credit, in bulk, and added much to the 
 flavour of the meals in both cabin and forecastle. 
 
 They found the fort in a sorry state, only partially 
 recovered from the distress of the long whiter. They 
 were received with a salute of cannon, feeble but well- 
 intentioned cheering, and the capering of thin, be- 
 whiskered men along the edge of the tide. 
 
 MacAllister, the commander of the fort, put off 
 from shore in an Indian canoe, and was on the brig's 
 deck before the anchors were let go. He was a man 
 of thirty-five years of age, capable, quick-tempered, 
 
 228
 
 The Ice-floe 229 
 
 proud as Lucifer, and poor as the soil on his native 
 hills. He claimed descent from Adam, King Arthur, 
 St. Andrew, and the prophets, and was in the habit of 
 telling his friends that the tree of knowledge still grew 
 and bore fruit on his father's estate in the Highlands 
 of Scotland. 
 
 He was full of oaths and mad moods and the grandest 
 lies concerning the power and antiquity of his family; 
 but when he gave his word to a friend or an enemy 
 the thing was already as good as done. He had seen 
 military service hi almost every country of Europe, 
 had gone into Asia against the Turks, and had spent 
 a year of his life pulling an oar in a Turkish galley. 
 It was the opinion of his friends that his experiences 
 in Turkey had put a twist in his brain. 
 
 He liked Francis Drurie and his likes were as 
 violent as his dislikes. The moment his feet touched 
 the brig's deck he grabbed the commander in his long 
 arms and pressed him to the breast of his faded coat 
 with such abandonment of cordiality as almost to 
 crack the Virginian's ribs. 
 
 "Welcome to Fort St. George and St. Andrew," 
 he cried, his gray eyes flashing. " You are welcomer, 
 Frank, than the King of England, for you are a better 
 man!" 
 
 Then he told his troubles of the past winter; how
 
 230 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 his lieutenant had died of scurvy, and his chief car- 
 penter, his smith, and three labourers had followed 
 along the same grim path within the week; how two 
 men had been killed by savages, another lost in the 
 wilderness, and three caught by a storm of wind and 
 snow, while hunting, and frozen to death. It was a 
 pitiful tale. 
 
 " And I expect the French to move against us before 
 the summer is over. No doubt the savages have 
 carried word of us to them long before this," he con- 
 cluded. 
 
 The gentlemen of the Brave Adventure were soon 
 ashore, and most of the crew followed the moment 
 the sails were furled and everything was made fast 
 and shipshape. The stores for the fort were hurried 
 out of the brig's hold, a small measure of rum was 
 served to all hands, and MacAllister announced that 
 to celebrate the arrival of the first vessel of the fleet, 
 a feast and general merrymaking would be held as 
 soon as the day's work was over. This was received 
 with cheers by landsmen and sailors alike. 
 
 Then Drurie mounted the cask of salt beside the 
 commander of the fort and said that he intended to 
 devote his share of the treasure taken from the pirate- 
 schooner to prizes for contests in marksmanship with 
 musket and pistol, in sword-play, in felling trees with
 
 The Ice-floe 231 
 
 axes, and in many more sports and works. There 
 should be separate contests in every event, he ex- 
 plained, for the sailors and the men of the fort, as the 
 landsmen had suffered from lack of food. 
 
 The men shouted and danced with delight, and even 
 the gentlemen cheered Drurie's generosity. But the 
 commander of the brig took small joy of the ovation; 
 for, ever since the fight with the schooner, every hour 
 was haunted by the little cross in his pocket. 
 
 Was it the cross Isobel had worn on her white neck ? 
 Or, was it one of many crosses as like it as two musket- 
 balls are alike? He did not know. Sometimes he 
 was sure of the one thing, and sometimes of the other. 
 
 The feast was a success and put new heart into the 
 settlers. A score of friendly natives shared the great 
 company's bounty, and joined in the dancing that 
 followed the eating, and sat like graven images through 
 the singing and story-telling. Captain MacAllister 
 danced the sword-dance, Francis and Prowse sang, 
 and Cremona gave an exhibition of knife-throwing. 
 Dawn was in the east before the little fort was quiet 
 and the ashes of the fires were black. 
 
 Under the stimulus of full rations and excitement, 
 the fort seemed to gain new life. Work and play went 
 on, side by side. Clearings were extended into the 
 forest on every side of the fort as a precaution against
 
 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 sudden attack by Frenchmen or natives. The stockade 
 was enlarged and strengthened, a new house was built 
 for MacAllister, and all the cabins were repaired. A 
 brisk trade was carried on with the natives from near 
 and far; small parties explored the forests and the 
 coast, and fish were caught in the sea and the rivers 
 and smoked for winter use. The contests in sports 
 and workmanship were warmly engaged in and oc- 
 cupied the men's spare time for fully a month. The 
 summer was short; and at the first hint of the quick 
 frosts the hunters set out after moose and caribou. 
 
 The crews of the three ships joined them in this 
 work and in the gathering of wild berries; and after- 
 ward in the manufacture of pemmican from the meat 
 and berries. By this time, the commanders and masters 
 of the ships were beginning to feel uneasy. The cargoes 
 of pelts were put under hatches; and early on the 
 morning that the first thin shell of ice was found on 
 the ponds around the fort, two of the vessels sailed 
 away. Francis had to remain three days longer, waiting 
 for Dick and several members of his crew who were 
 down the coast in the brig's long-boat. But at last 
 the capstan-bars were manned aboard the Brave 
 Adventure, the anchors walked up and lashed, and the 
 square sails unfurled. 
 
 Whiter comes swiftly to that northern sea. For a
 
 The Ice-floe 
 
 little while the sun has held back the merciless desire 
 of the frost, and the silence; leaves have budded and 
 blown, butterflies have spread their painted wings; 
 and then, as if the forces of death had been waiting 
 just behind the hills, desolation returns to wood and 
 stream. 
 
 Out on the sea the brief, azure days are done. Clouds 
 mount from the hidden pits of storm; fogs and snow 
 trail their shrouds across the shaken waves; the voice 
 of the surf fails along the gray coasts, silenced by the 
 black strip of ice that widens hour by hour. Snow falls, 
 and the land and the ice are as one; then the winds 
 and currents struggle in those nameless wastes and the 
 new ice is broken and tossed adrift. The surf shouts 
 again along the rocks but in the stillness of the night, 
 in a falling silence, again the frost shackles the living 
 water. 
 
 The Brave Adventure raced for the open sea, striving 
 to clear the narrow straits before the frost should close 
 its hand upon the north. She drove eastward and 
 northward across the great bay, under every yard of 
 canvas she could spread. Hour by hour the appalling 
 shadow of winter a shadow seen with the eyes of 
 the spirit loomed higher above the northern hori- 
 zon. 
 
 The men felt it. On deck and aloft it cut deep into
 
 234 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 their courage, though the cold was not yet severe; 
 in the warmth of cabin and forecastle it rang a faint, 
 strange echo to their laughter. It was not the cold 
 they feared, but the blind, gripping ice. 
 
 " We must drive her," said the master to Drurie. 
 " So long as this wind holds we are safe. If we get 
 half-way through the straits before it shifts to the 
 north we can beat the ice to the sea." 
 
 The wind failed then blew fitfully from the 
 south. On a warm, bright morning they rounded into 
 the narrow seaway, and crept forward east by south. 
 The sunlight, and the knowledge that this was the 
 course that reached to England, raised the spirits of 
 all save the more experienced mariners. 
 
 Danvers did not like it, and watched the sea and the 
 sky at every point of the compass as if he expected 
 an attack. He kept the brig well up toward the dreary, 
 frozen coast to the north so close that it could be 
 seen with the naked eye, like a bank of pale fog along 
 the horizon. The day passed comfortably, but with 
 little progress. With the setting of the sun the wind 
 died away, and a sudden chill flooded the air. 
 
 In the outer cabin the gentlemen sat around the 
 the table, or lay in their berths and listened to the talk 
 of their comrades and the weird complaining of the 
 ship's timbers. Not one of them save Cremona
 
 The Ice-floe 235 
 
 seemed to be able to keep his mind on any subject for 
 more than a minute at a time. They listened for some- 
 thing they could not name listened with half- 
 turned heads, furtively. They felt a menace they did 
 not understand. They feared neither storm nor battle; 
 but the fear of the North was in their hearts. They 
 listened for the strong, enlivening buffet of the wind; 
 and, not hearing it, they felt an anxiety that they 
 scarcely tried to conceal. 
 
 But Cremona was himself outwardly, at least. 
 He sat at the table with a bottle of wine before him 
 and told a story that nobody listened to. It was a 
 fine story, too, and as full of lies as any history. To 
 catch young Prowse's wandering attention, he leaned 
 across the table and poked him in the shoulder with 
 one of his great fingers. 
 
 " I tell you," he said, " that the French lady turned 
 as white as that candle, and fell, herself, quick into 
 my arms, and cried loud for me to save her valued life. 
 And what did I do can you think ? I knocked her 
 softly out of my course, with a polite word, and struck 
 those two pirates with my might. One of those vile 
 fellows drove a knife " 
 
 "Hark! What was that?" whispered Prowse, 
 brushing away Cremona's finger and half rising from 
 his seat.
 
 236 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 " Bah! You hear your brains shake. Now listen 
 to me," said Cremona. 
 
 Prowse paid no attention to him. " What is Drurie 
 doing on deck? Why does he stay up hi the cold? 
 Danvers can sail the ship without his help." 
 
 " Now, you listen to me," drawled Cremona, and 
 went on with the yarn to which nobody would listen. 
 
 And they thought he was acting like a fool ; whereas 
 he was doing his best to turn their minds from the 
 menace in the air. 
 
 Neither Drurie nor Danvers left the deck that night. 
 Shortly after midnight a puff of wind struck the brig 
 and fled, leaving the spars creaking and the shrouds 
 rattling. She had scarcely settled to quiet after that 
 buffet when the wind descended upon her in earnest 
 out of the west. 
 
 It blew steady and strong, bowling her along under 
 scanty sails. The seas arose as if by magic, pitching 
 the little vessel dizzily as the wind raced her along. 
 The commander and the master stood close together 
 by the tiller. The night was so black that they could 
 not see each other's face. 
 
 " Is this what you expected ? " asked Drurie, after 
 the wind had been upon them for several minutes. 
 
 "It is better than I expected," replied Danvers. 
 " I feared a gale and from the north."
 
 The Ice-floe 237 
 
 Half an hour later Danvers spoke again. " It will 
 blow stronger," he said. " There is a core to it. I 
 felt it all day, and now I hear it." 
 
 A gray, ragged rift of dawn was breaking in front of 
 their pitching jibboom when the thing which the master 
 was watching for finally reached them. That the 
 immense draft of wind which had been pressing them 
 along for the last eight hours could increase in either 
 weight or speed was a miracle to Drurie. 
 
 It fell upon them as solid as water, crushing the 
 stout little hull deep into the eager sea, and then hurling 
 her on her course like a plaything. Drurie was spun 
 against the after-companion. He lay there for a 
 minute, gripping at whatever he touched with hands 
 and feet. 
 
 Danvers stooped and roared into his ear : " She'll 
 weather it. She be too quick for the seas to override 
 her. 'Twill blow itself out in an hour or two." 
 
 Drurie pulled himself to his feet and stood, clinging 
 to the hutch of the companion, until the terror of this 
 madness of wind and wave lifted from his spirit. 
 He, too, had felt the nameless fear of the North. Then 
 he went below. 
 
 As Danvers had said, the storm eased its fury within 
 two hours of its supreme effort; but it continued to 
 blow at half a gale until noon. Every member of the
 
 238 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 brig's company felt a relaxing of strained nerves. 
 Men whistled at their work, and the watch below, 
 instead of sleeping, clustered about the break of the 
 forecastle-head and sang madrigals and deep-sea 
 chanties. 
 
 The adventurers aft lolled in the pale sunlight; 
 and Cremona, feeling no need for his story, smoked a 
 roll of tobacco and gave ear to Prowse's chatter about 
 a girl in distant Devon. Drurie and the master went 
 below and sank to dreamless slumber. 
 
 In the afternoon the brig passed a number of islands 
 of naked rock, pink and purple hi the failing light. An 
 easy draft of wind drifted out of the north, and intense 
 cold filled the air. The first mate, who was on duty, 
 made all sail, eager to clear the Cape of God and win 
 into the wide Atlantic before the ice should close the 
 eastern gate of the passage. The men who had the 
 deck put on their heaviest clothing, and great mittens 
 of wool on their hands. 
 
 Next morning a thin edge of ice, about six inches 
 wide, lay around the water-line of the brig. The wind 
 still held from the north, quiet and steady as a current 
 of icy water. The sea rolled gently, without a break 
 of whitej, and the brig swept smoothly and silently 
 along. Cape of God loomed ahead, crouched forward 
 as if ready to hurl itself into the path of the little vessel.
 
 The Ice-floe 239 
 
 The crew was set to breaking away the fringe of ice 
 with poles and oars. The thin crystal shattered and 
 vanished at a touch; and yet, grown a little thicker, 
 it would support a running man, and a little thicker 
 again it would stop the onward rush of a forging 
 ship. 
 
 By sunset the Brave Adventure was abreast of the 
 soaring cape. Danvers held her well up to the wind, 
 away from the formidable wall and its hidden out- 
 posts, where white spray leaped from the smooth 
 sea. 
 
 Before dawn a flurry of snow passed over the brig. 
 This was followed by a fog, that only whitened a little 
 as the hours passed. The gentlemen were at breakfast, 
 with candles on the table and a lantern hanging steady 
 from the deck-beam overhead, when Danvers entered 
 the cabin, threw aside his cloak, and sat down. 
 
 " We are in the edge of slob ice," he said. " But 
 it does not matter now. Even if it tightens around us, 
 it is clear of any land, and will do no more than drift 
 us southward a trifle. As we are well away from the 
 coast of Labrador, that will do no harm." 
 
 " Heaven be thanked for letting us out of the narrow 
 waters," said Drurie. 
 
 " Aye, praise be to His name," returned Danvers 
 reverently. Then he ate heartily, drank deep, and
 
 240 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 laughed and talked with the air of a man who has felt 
 a great shadow slip from his spirit. 
 
 All day the fog shrouded them; the sails swelled 
 for a moment from yard and stay only to flap and sag 
 again; the thin fragments of ice, broken from some 
 northern coast, knocked against the brig's sides and 
 clung. In spite of the gloom, a spirit of serenity and 
 security hung over the little vessel, soothing the hearts 
 of her company. 
 
 Clear of threatening rocks and the northern fast- 
 nesses, with the wide ocean on every side, what mattered 
 a few days of southward drifting in the mild bondage 
 of this thin ice ? The gentlemen played at cards in the 
 warm, candle-lighted cabin; and even Drurie and 
 Danvers felt free to take an occasional hand. And so 
 the day passed, and the fog darkened from white to 
 black again. 
 
 That night, a wonderful dream came to Francis 
 Drurie. It was as if he opened his eyes from a deep 
 sleep and looked between the curtains of his berth 
 into his cabin. By the faint light of the lantern, 
 hanging over the table, he saw a human figure standing, 
 silent and dim as a shadow. Now, this inner cabin 
 was his own, and even the master entered it only by 
 his invitation. 
 
 He leaned upon his elbow and stared out, wondering
 
 The Ice-floe 241 
 
 if one of his gentlemen had come to speak to him. 
 But he could not make the figure out. 
 
 " Who is there? " he asked quietly. 
 
 At the first sound of his voice the figure moved 
 toward him. It was a woman! It was Isobel! 
 
 " Do not fear," said the dear voice, of which not a 
 tone had faded from his heart. " I have come, in my 
 dream, to tell you that I still live and wait for you. 
 The path to me, dearest, is one of duty well done, and 
 bitter sufferings, and hoping against hope." 
 
 And then, hi the silence that followed, the vision 
 of the girl faded away. Drurie could not move or call 
 her name. He struggled to get out of his berth, but 
 it seemed that invisible barriers held him. At last, 
 in the agony of his futile efforts, he opened his eyes. 
 So it was only a dream, after all. But what a 
 dream! To Drurie, the hand of God was in it. He 
 was not a man of prayer, but God was a very real 
 Being to him. He slipped from his berth and thanked 
 God on bended knees. The knowledge that bitter 
 sufferings were to be his dimmed neither his gratitude 
 nor his joy. 
 
 By morning the brig was firm in the grip of the 
 drifting floe. Fog still shrouded the sea. Drurie's 
 comrades saw the new light in his eyes, and wondered 
 if he had suddenly forgotten his grief. He told of his
 
 242 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 dream to Dick and Cremona, and both accepted the 
 meaning of it without question. They found no diffi- 
 culty in believing it to be a message, and so they 
 rejoiced with their commander.
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 DENIS ST. OVIDE DUVAL 
 
 IT happened that a famous Canadian, known by the 
 style and name of Captain Denis St. Ovide Duval, 
 encountered the same fog-bank and the same ice-floe 
 in which the Brave Adventure drifted blindly. 
 
 Duval was one of England's most exasperating 
 tormentors in the north, from New England to Acadia 
 and Newfoundland. In time of war he was a privateer, 
 and in time of peace a pirate. English commerce was 
 always his target. His delight was to strike a blow at 
 the power of that lion-hearted little island, and, at the 
 same time, fill his pockets with such treasure as the 
 moth of pleasure and the rust of sea- winds destroy. 
 
 He was a strange mixture of soldier and ruffian, 
 gentleman and knave. There was some mystery about 
 his birth. He claimed kinship with several great 
 families; but, whether because of his naval activities 
 in times of peace or for another reason, he was avoided 
 by the members of these same families. It was a 
 well-known fact that the Admiral St. Ovide would 
 
 248
 
 244 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 never invite him to so much as a glass of wine; and 
 yet the two had fought their ships side by side against 
 the forts of the harbour of St. John's. He was a 
 strange fellow a strange mixture. Those who 
 wished to see only the bad blood hi him could not 
 ignore the good ; and those who wished to see only the 
 good were reminded, very frequently, of the bad. But 
 whatever his faults in heart and breeding, he was a 
 brave and brilliant commander and a capable navi- 
 gator. 
 
 Denis St. Ovide Duval had heard of the new English 
 post hi the northern wilderness from a French trapper, 
 and he had put a fine plan together. He would slip 
 into that northern sea just as the armed ships of the 
 Royal Company slipped out, and take the fort, and 
 settle there comfortably for the winter. By spring 
 he should have valuable cargoes for his two vessels 
 and prisoners for Quebec, to say nothing of the glory 
 of leaving a Canadian garrison hi the fort and the 
 French flag flapping above its walls. Surely, for such 
 a service, the king could not do less than make him 
 governor of all that vast wilderness, with a percentage 
 from every pelt taken in trade there. Then he should 
 have the laugh on his haughty cousin, the admiral. 
 
 With his head full of such fine intentions had Duval 
 headed northward along the coast of Labrador at that
 
 Denis St. Ovide Duval 245 
 
 late season. Duller men might have waited for spring; 
 but Duval was not dull. Yet the fog and the ice played 
 him a trick. 
 
 Shortly after noon, just as the men of the Brave 
 Adventure were returning their empty plates and 
 cannikins to the galley, having fed well on pea soup 
 and roasted vension, a brisk little wind sprang up 
 in the west. The fog broke, lifted, and blew away and 
 there, not four hundred yards southward of the brig, 
 lay two vessels in the grip of the ice. 
 
 Word of it was shouted into the cabin and the 
 forecastle. In a twinkling every adventurer and mariner 
 was on deck, gaping at the unexpected sight. The 
 master looked for a moment and turned to Drurie 
 with an expression of concern on his face. 
 
 " It is Duval, the Canadian," he said. " I've seen 
 them before aye, and run from them. He sails the 
 schooner himself, and we call it the Black Devil. The 
 little brigantine was an English craft once." 
 
 " Duval! " exclaimed the commander. " Lord, but 
 'twould be a fine thing to sink both his ships for him." 
 
 Danvers smiled without enthusiasm. " Aye, and a 
 hard thing," he replied. " Both vessels are armed 
 like war-ships. What I am thinkin' is, 'twould be a 
 fine thing to be able to break out of this ice and show 
 'em our heels. Two to one makes rare good sport,
 
 246 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 to my mind, with a good sailin' wind and a free keel; 
 but plugged here in the ice, 'twill be nothing but gun- 
 play. The ways of powder and shot are as Fate 
 intended them, and a cannon fired by a fool shoots 
 as far as one fired by a master-gunner; but pretty 
 sailin' gives the ship and the master a chance to work 
 together and confound the enemy." 
 
 " You are right," replied Drurie; " but, as we cannot 
 do any fine sailing, as we did against Black Monk, 
 we must do fine shooting. There is nothing else for 
 it, if those ships in truth belong to Duval." 
 
 As yet, they could see no sign of life aboard the 
 schooner and the brigantine. The guns of the Brave 
 Adventure were cleared for action. Powder and ball, 
 canister and grape, were carried up from the magazines, 
 and the men went to their posts. They went to their 
 posts laughing and joking, poor fellows, full-fed and 
 afraid of no Frenchman under the sun. They did not 
 give a thought to the fact that this fight was to be a 
 simple and terrible matter of give and take, with the 
 same broadsides belching all through, and no help 
 from the wits and skill of Master Danvers and the 
 speed and handiness of the brig. 
 
 The red ensign was run up; and, as if the halyards 
 were hauled by the same hands, up went the white 
 of France on both the enemies.
 
 Denis St. Ovide Duval 247 
 
 The brigantine lay side-on to the English brig, and 
 the schooner, lying farther to the south and east, 
 presented her bows to the brig's port bow. Northward, 
 the ice ran silver and shining under the sun as far as 
 the eye could see. To the west, east, and south it 
 extended for only a mile or so, and lively little seas 
 danced about the edges of it. 
 
 " I would the fog had not lifted," said Danvers 
 earnestly. 
 
 As yet, no sign of life, beyond the flying of the flags, 
 had appeared on either of the French ships. Drurie 
 set his men to shifting the big guns. Two on the port 
 broadside were moved forward and trained on the 
 schooner, and the other two were run across the deck 
 to reenforce the starboard battery. The swivels from 
 the stern were hauled forward and mounted on the 
 forecastlehead, beside the long bow-chaser. By this 
 arrangement, six heavy pieces were brought to bear 
 on the brigantine and three heavy pieces and the two 
 swivels on the schooner. Many of the bales of pelts 
 were thrown up from the hold and lashed round the 
 batteries, inside the bulwarks. 
 
 Already the brief northern day was drawing to its 
 close. A look of relief began to spread upon the 
 master's broad face. 
 
 " There'll not be much damage done in the dark,"
 
 248 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 he said, " and the floe may break by morning. Then, 
 if ye want a fight, the little lady will make a pretty 
 fight; and if ye want to get away, she'll flap her skirts 
 at those water-logged, unhandy arks." 
 
 " I sincerely hope that the floe will break," replied 
 Drurie; " but I am troubled now to know how I can 
 keep the Frenchmen from crossing the ice during the 
 night and boarding us. No doubt both ships are 
 heavily manned." 
 
 " The first broadside will splinter the ice for yards 
 on every side of us," answered the master. " They'll 
 have to use their boats to come aboard us." 
 
 " Then the sooner we splinter a little ice the better," 
 said Drurie. 
 
 He went to the forward battery and saw the gunners 
 train their pets on the narrow bows of the schooner. 
 Next moment, the five pieces crashed with a deafening 
 report, and the brig surged backward and crumpled 
 the ice for a yard or more under her stern. The smoke 
 drifted over the deck, shutting the schooner off from 
 the gunners' view. 
 
 Before the wind had blown it away, the reenforced 
 battery to starboard crashed like one gigantic gun. 
 Beneath that choking pall of smoke the men toiled 
 frantically, swabbing and loading, though they ex- 
 pected the deadly tempest of the French reply at any
 
 Denis St. Ovide Duval 249 
 
 moment. The yards creaked, and the brig rocked Li 
 her basin of shattered ice. The smoke thinned; and 
 at the very moment of the second discharge of the 
 forward battery, the schooner and the brigantine sent 
 their answers. 
 
 Two men were struck down by the canister from the 
 brigantine, the capstan was hit by a round-shot from 
 the schooner, and a great lump of oak and iron was 
 hurled through the breast of one of the gunners. 
 
 For nearly an hour the battle raged, heroic, appalling, 
 cruel. Then darkness silenced the guns. The Brave 
 Adventure had suffered terribly. Young Prowse died 
 as many another Prowse has died before and since 
 this unrecorded battle in the northern ice. 
 
 Dick was wounded in the shoulder, seriously. 
 Danvers's left arm was blown away at the elbow, 
 Tizard lay stunned by a flying splinter, and Drurie 
 had received two flesh-wounds. One of the master- 
 gunners and nine of the crew lay dead, and five more 
 were seriously torn or broken. 
 
 Cremona, who had worked in the most exposed 
 places throughout the fight and yet had escaped without 
 a scratch, now showed a useful knowledge of surgery. 
 Assisted by Drurie, Duff, and the uninjured men, he 
 cut and bathed and bandaged swiftly and tenderly. 
 The wounded men were carried below. Rum was
 
 250 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 served to all hands, and a hearty meal was eaten, the 
 wounded men being fed by their more fortunate 
 comrades. Then the sentries were posted for the first 
 watch of the night. 
 
 The brig had suffered as terribly as her brave com- 
 pany. Her foremast was a wreck, her bulwarks were 
 shattered, and two of her heavy guns were disabled. 
 The forecastle was battered and splintered, and the 
 bowsprit carried clean away. A dozen great shot were 
 lodged hi the stout timbers of her hull, and several 
 had entered her hold dangerously near the waterline. 
 
 The men of the brig could not see what damage had 
 been done to the French vessels. During the fight, the 
 hanging smoke had allowed them but brief glimpses of 
 their targets; and by the time the smoke had cleared, 
 it was night. But they had reason to believe that the 
 brigantine was in a bad state, for her fire had slackened 
 by half before the end of the engagement. For- 
 tunately, the night was dark and there was no moon. 
 
 Drurie's heart was all but broken by the death of 
 Lawrence Prowse and his brave men, and the suffering 
 of the wounded; and, for all his courage, he could see 
 no hope for the morrow unless a strong wind rose in 
 the night. Even with the ice broken, it was doubtful 
 whether the brig would be able to escape from the 
 schooner in her shattered condition. Unable to sleep,
 
 Denis St. Ovide Duval 251 
 
 he spent the whole night hi wandering from one part 
 of the brig to another, now pausing to ease the position, 
 or give water, to one of the wounded, and again to 
 speak a word of encouragement to the men still on 
 duty. 
 
 To his own wounds he gave not a thought, though 
 both were deep and painful. He had washed and bound 
 them soon after the firing had ceased and that was 
 the last attention he had given them. But Dick's, 
 Tizard's, and Danvers's injuries worried him beyond 
 expression. He had carried Dick to his own berth 
 in the inner cabin. Already, before midnight, the poor 
 lad was delirious from the agony of shattered shoulder 
 and bruised chest. Danvers, also, was growing light- 
 headed from intense suffering, and Tizard still lay 
 unconscious, breathing heavily. There was not a 
 corner of the little vessel free from death or agony. 
 
 Drurie was standing on the forecastle-head, leaning 
 on one of the cannon, with his face sunk on his folded 
 arms, when he felt a hand on his shoulder. 
 
 " This very bad," said the voice of Cremona. " I 
 don't smile at you crying, Frank, for I cry myself at 
 this. I see plenty of men dead before now; but not 
 men I love. Dick will die, I think. God, I love him 
 like a mother and a father! Now, you let me tie your 
 leg again."
 
 252 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 But Francis Drurie would not hear of that. His 
 leg was not hurting him. He had lost a pint or so of 
 blood that was all. He urged Cremona to lie down 
 and try to get a few hours' sleep. 
 
 " No; I sleep soon enough for a very long time, 
 perhaps," replied Cremona. " See, the wind is dead 
 and the air is clear. Soon the sun will come up 
 and then we begin loading and firing again. No, 
 Frank ; we better stay awake now, for we all sleep soon 
 enough, I think." 
 
 " As Heaven wills," replied Drurie quietly. " Better 
 men than I am and maybe as good men as you, 
 Cremona have died this way." 
 
 " You think me a good man, Frank ? " asked Cre- 
 mona earnestly. 
 
 " One of the best," answered Drurie shortly. 
 
 Cremona made no reply, but a fine elation of spirit 
 went through him like fire. He had lived a hard life, 
 and had been a low rogue hi his time; but here was a 
 fine ending. He had been born into the world among 
 criminals and outcasts; and now he stood at the 
 threshold of death, a gentleman among gentlemen, 
 a worthy member of a gallant company. 
 
 Without another word the two parted, the heart of 
 each warm with admiration and affection for the 
 other. Drurie went into the forecastle to tend the
 
 Denis St. Ovide Duval 253 
 
 sufferers there, and Cremona hurried back to the 
 wounded men in the cabin. Tizard passed away 
 without a struggle, or without once having regained 
 consciousness, an hour before dawn. Cremona and the 
 commander stitched him in his canvas shroud with 
 their own hands, with a round-shot at his feet. The 
 thin ice, which had formed again since the guns had 
 ceased their recoiling, shattered as he went through. 
 Down he sank through the cold depths, to where his 
 comrade Prowse and a brave company awaited him, 
 all lying still and blind on the sea- floor, heedless of 
 ambition or duty until the call to the last parade.
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 
 THE BRAVE ADVENTURE SUNK 
 
 A CLEAR dawn heralded the last day of that heroic 
 but nameless battle. By the first light Drurie looked 
 at his enemies in wonder. The white hull of the 
 brigantine was shattered and stained with blood. 
 Not one of her spars was standing, and she lay with 
 a sharp list to starboard. The schooner was not so 
 seriously injured, but her great foremast lay on the 
 ice, cut clear, and her bows were riddled with shot 
 holes. 
 
 Drurie called his men together. 
 
 " Lads," he said, " we have fought our guns and our 
 ship bravely enough; but the odds were against us 
 from the first, and are against us still. I speak to you 
 honestly. I see no chance of our beating off these 
 Frenchmen. We have done our duty. I am ready to 
 fight again, or to surrender. What is your wish in 
 the matter?" 
 
 " Let us fight," cried several of the men. " We'd 
 better die fightin' than be hung to the yard-arm." 
 
 254
 
 The Brave Adventure Sunk 255 
 
 " Aye, sir, this here Duval don't care what he do 
 to prisoners when he be in a temper," said the boat- 
 swain. " Let us fight it out, sir; and if we die why, 
 sir, we've all to come to it some day." 
 
 That suited every man aboard, sound and wounded. 
 They had no desire for Canadian prisons, or for ending 
 a good fight by kicking their heels at the end of a 
 rope. Each man drank a measure of rum after his 
 breakfast, and then went willingly but stolidly to his 
 post. 
 
 The sun slid up, clear as glass, but without warmth. 
 Such wind as there was crept cheerlessly out of the 
 northwest, over miles of frozen sea. The air was 
 bitterly cold. The cold alone was enough to chill the 
 courage of brave men, but the lads of the brig stood 
 to their guns and gazed unconcernedly across the 
 glistening ice to the silent ships of the enemy. But 
 those ships did not remain silent for long after the 
 rising of the sun. The schooner reopened the battle 
 with a discharge of grape that flew high. The brig 
 replied with both her batteries, and the horrible fight 
 was on again. 
 
 Through a rift in the cloud of smoke, Drurie saw 
 men running away from the brigantine across the ice. 
 Thinking they were preparing to board the brig, he 
 swept them with canister. The survivors made all
 
 256 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 speed to the schooner. They were not many. When 
 the smoke thinned again the brigantine had vanished, 
 and only a pool of gray, dancing water was where she 
 had been. 
 
 The last charge of powder aboard the Brave Adven- 
 ture had been fired. She was settling steadily by the 
 head. Drurie wiped the blood from his eyes and 
 looked round him. He saw a few men leaning list- 
 lessly against the silent guns, and many sprawled 
 upon the deck. The fight was over and lost. Again 
 blood trickled into his eyes. Then he saw Cremona, 
 and felt him press something into place upon his fore- 
 head and tie a cloth around it. Without a word he 
 turned and walked aft, scarcely knowing what he was 
 about. In the cabin he found both Dick and Danvers 
 dead. He touched their cold calm faces with his 
 hands. 
 
 He saw Cremona enter, kneel beside Dick's body 
 and fling his arms forward. He heard the big man 
 weep. He turned away and went on deck; and close 
 beside the stump of the mainmast he stumbled over 
 Duff's lifeless body. What were these strange beings 
 clustering about him, with blood and sweat and powder- 
 stains on their grotesque faces? Ah! They were his 
 own men his own brave lads ! There was Nicholas, 
 with a bandage of sodden cloth over half his face.
 
 " DUVAL'S DARK FACE WAS FLUSHED WITH ANGER.
 
 The Brave Adventure Sunk 257 
 
 He counted them slowly. Ten! Yes, ten was all he 
 could make of them, and three were on their hands and 
 knees. 
 
 " Lads," he said, " the fight is finished." 
 
 He drew his sword and tried to break it across his 
 knee ; but the good blade was too tough for his nerve- 
 less muscles. 
 
 " Let me do it," said Cremona. So he broke his 
 commander's sword, and then his own, and tossed the 
 bright pieces into the scuppers. At that moment 
 Duval and twenty of his Canadians climbed over the 
 side of the Brave Adventure. 
 
 Duval's dark face was flushed with anger. He glared 
 at Cremona. 
 
 " Do you surrender? " he asked. 
 
 " This gentleman is the commander," said Cremona, 
 indicating Drurie. 
 
 Well, my fine little cock, have you had enough? " 
 cried the Canadian. 
 
 This manner of address cleared Drurie's brain. 
 
 " I am ready to give myself and my men up to 
 Captain Duval, but not to his boatswain," he said. 
 
 " I am Captain Denis St. Ovide Duval," replied 
 the other, more gently. 
 
 " A man of honourable family, I have heard. Well, 
 sir, I surrender Captain Cremona, my men, and
 
 258 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 myself to you as prisoners of war," said Drurie. His 
 clear blue eyes gazed steadily and fearlessly upon the 
 Canadian, with a light in them that was enough to 
 shame the devil himself. 
 
 It shamed Duval, whom no bluster could disconcert. 
 It appealed to that better part of his nature that came 
 to him from hundreds of valiant men and beautiful 
 women. He turned to the men behind him and spoke 
 to them swiftly, for a little while, in the French tongue. 
 
 Four of the Canadians began to lead the survivors 
 of the crew of the Brave Adventure across the deck, 
 two by two. They carried those who were unable to 
 walk. They lowered them all into a boat that lay 
 among the broken ice under the brig's side. Drurie 
 and Cremona were not disturbed. 
 
 Duval stood beside them giving orders to the main 
 body of the force he had brought aboard with him. 
 The cabin was looted, and bale after bale of the costly 
 furs were brought up from the hold. The brig now 
 was deep in the water, and sharply sunk by the head. 
 All the schooner's boats were around her, having been 
 dragged across the ice and launched into the narrow 
 strip of water. As quickly as they were freighted 
 from the brig's cargo they were pulled to the solid ice, 
 unloaded and pulled back. A shiver passed through 
 the crippled brig, fore and aft. Duval shouted to
 
 The Brave Adventure Sunk 259 
 
 his men, and those below quickly scrambled on 
 deck. 
 
 " Come, gentlemen," he said to Drurie and Cremona. 
 
 Drurie was helped down into one of the boats, 
 for now his wounds were stiffening. All the boats 
 were pushed quickly to the ice and pulled out upon 
 the glistening surface. A sound like a sigh came from 
 the wounded and deserted brig, and every one turned 
 to look at her. She swayed gently in her narrow sea- 
 bed. Her sunken bows seemed to lift a little, then 
 pitched deep. The high poop, with its wide ports and 
 gilded scroll-work, soared aloft. Left by an oversight 
 of Duval's, the red ensign flapped on the stump of the 
 mainmast. Amid a roaring and surging of waters 
 the Brave Adventure pitched down to her deep-sea 
 grave. A few shattered and blood-stained timbers 
 leaped up and floated on the surface of the ice-rimmed 
 pool. 
 
 A surgeon aboard the schooner dressed the wounds 
 of Drurie and the other prisoners. They were lowered 
 into the hold, after the bales of furs. All who were not 
 disabled by their injuries were put in irons. The hold 
 was warm that is, the amidships part of it, where the 
 prisoners lay. The schooner had not suffered any- 
 where but in her bows. Two lanterns hung from the 
 deck-beams, and made blurs in the yellow gloom. They
 
 260 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 were of no use to see by, but they cheered the eyes 
 and held back the darkness. 
 
 Soon after the dressing of their wounds Drurie and 
 his companions fell into the dreamless sleep of utter 
 exhaustion. Only their wrists were shackled, so they 
 could lie comfortably in any position that suited their 
 aching limbs. 
 
 Drurie was awakened by the touch of a hand on his 
 shoulder. 
 
 "What is it?" he asked sleepily, thinking himself 
 in his berth aboard the Brave Adventure. 
 
 A bowl of broth was placed in his manacled hands. 
 Then he remembered everything; but he also remem- 
 bered the vision that had come to him in the cabin of 
 the brig. By the dull glow of the lanterns he could 
 make out the figure of a man stooped beside him. His 
 stomach yearned for the broth which he held in his 
 hands. 
 
 " Are my men fed ? " he asked. 
 
 " All are drinking the good soup, save one who 
 died while you slept," replied the voice of the surgeon, 
 in English. 
 
 " Who has died ? " asked Drurie. 
 
 " It be poor Hipwood has passed away, sir," said 
 one of the men. 
 
 Drurie drank his broth, which was rich and warm,
 
 The Brave Adventure Sunk 261 
 
 to the last drop and the last grain of barley. The 
 French surgeon continued to crouch beside him, his 
 imagination captivated by the courage and fortitude 
 of this slender young Virginian. 
 
 One of the men had told him of the way he had 
 received Duval aboard the sinking brig proud, 
 cool, and fearless. The surgeon was a good deal of a 
 coward himself, but he thought courage one of the 
 highest attributes of human and animal nature. He 
 was a student of men, and fearlessness in the face of 
 danger was one of the things he could not understand. 
 The recklessness of rage he counted a small matter. 
 It was the reasoning courage of such men as Drurie 
 and his companions that attracted and puzzled him. 
 Now he waited, hi silence, beside the young Virginian, 
 until the bowl was empty. Then he took it from the 
 manacled hands. 
 
 " The ice is breaking away," he said. " We may 
 be clear of it by morning. We are drifting southward 
 and westward fast." 
 
 " And what is the time of day? " asked Drurie. 
 
 " It is now about three hours since sunset," replied 
 the surgeon. " The carpenters have been hard at 
 work since noon, patching the hull and superstructure 
 and setting up a new spar forward. Your guns did 
 terrific damage, captain."
 
 262 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 " They did what they could," said Drurie. And 
 then : " You talk like an Englishman," he added. 
 
 " That is not to be wondered at," replied the sur- 
 geon, " as I have lived hi both England and one of 
 her western colonies. My mother was an English- 
 woman, and I was brought up, as a child and youth, 
 by her relatives. Later I lived for several years in 
 New England. But my heart was French all the 
 while; and, hi time, I followed my heart. But tell 
 me of yourself, captain." 
 
 " There is little to tell," said Drurie, with a note 
 of bitterness or was it only weariness hi his 
 voice. " I am a Virginian. I have fought against the 
 savages there, and I have sailed on two voyages to 
 Hudson Bay as commander of the Brave Adventure 
 the brig that sank to-day. And here I am, sir. It is 
 a fine history." 
 
 " It is a brave history," replied the surgeon. 
 
 Francis Drurie lay wide-awake through that long 
 night, with a thousand scenes passing and repassing 
 across the boundless field of his inner vision. It was 
 as if he watched a play upon a stage as wide as earth 
 and heaven. 
 
 He saw the Virginian forests, the lodges of the 
 savages, and the weather-stained militiamen beside 
 whom he had ridden and fought. Again he saw the
 
 The Brave Adventure Sunk 263 
 
 autumn groves through which he had returned to 
 Admiral's Pride; and again he heard Isobel's song, and 
 overtook her in the path. He lived through that 
 wonderful time again the night of the ball and the 
 day after. 
 
 Men of Bristol flocked across his vision, and in- 
 significant scraps of conversations with Smithers, the 
 merry merchant, flashed clear in his memory. Again 
 he and Dick and Cremona travelled hi Spain to- 
 gether; and now Dick lay under the gray ice, and 
 Cremona slept here in the hold of the French schooner, 
 with irons on his great wrists. 
 
 Minute by minute his brain went over every incident 
 of the terrible battle, sparing him nothing, showing him 
 again the blood, the leaping splinters, the falling spars, 
 and the limp bodies of his friends and comrades. He 
 wanted to sleep to forget the horror, and dream only 
 of Virginia and Isobel. But his brain was too active 
 for sleep. Outraged by the events of the last two 
 days, it had got beyond control of his will. After it 
 had reviewed the past, it turned fearfully to the future. 
 
 What was to become of them? Did Duval intend 
 to sail straight to Quebec, and imprison them there, 
 or would he take them to some French harbour in 
 Newfoundland or to France? 
 
 At last Drurie crawled over and awoke Cremona.
 
 264 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 " I cannot sleep," he whispered. " My brain is 
 on fire. Let us talk for a little while." 
 
 " I was dreaming. We were in the little lugger 
 again you and Dick and I sailing along in the 
 sunshine over that blue water," said Cremona. 
 
 " No, do not talk of those things," pleaded Drurie. 
 " They are what spin in my mind until I can stand no 
 more. Tell me of things and people I do not know 
 not of the things I have known and lost." 
 
 " I will tell you of an old man who was good to me 
 long ago, when I was a little boy," said Cremona; 
 and he told of his first voyage, and of an old boatswain 
 who used to share his food with him, and comfort 
 him when others were cruel, and tell him wonderful 
 stories. 
 
 Cremona went on from speaking of the boatswain 
 to reciting some of those long-forgotten tales. Drurie 
 listened eagerly. Cremona's voice was low and steady. 
 Drurie's eyelids closed, and opened quickly. Yes, he 
 had heard this story before, long ago, from his mother. 
 How strange and comforting it was to hear Cremona 
 telling it. Again his eyes closed. And when the men 
 in the forecastle were just beginning to stir, and the 
 watch on deck was looking eastward at the dawn, 
 Drurie's tired brain fell asleep. 
 
 The surgeon appeared early in the prisoners' quar-
 
 The Brave Adventure Sunk 265 
 
 ters, with a man behind him carrying food and 
 drink. 
 
 He found that another of the wounded Englishmen 
 had died in the night. He awoke Drurie and Cremona, 
 who were sleeping soundly side by side. His assistant 
 aroused the others, and all fell heartily to the business 
 of eating. But one of the men suddenly became uneasy 
 and began to feel about in the darkness with his feet. 
 
 " Wake up, Jim," he cried. " Ye was feelin' better 
 last night. Wake up, now, an' try a snack o' this here 
 salt junk." 
 
 " My lad, your friend is dead," said the surgeon. 
 " He was more than half dead when he was brought 
 aboard. But the rest of you will live, I think." 
 
 The fellow who had called his friend to wake up and 
 eat trembled violently. A chill passed over the little 
 company, as if a cold wind had blown upon them. 
 
 "Is it Jim Hawkins who is gone now?" asked 
 Drurie. 
 
 " Aye, sir, it be Jim Hawkins him that beat us 
 all at the broadsword play at the fort," said one of the 
 men. 
 
 " He was a good lad," said Drurie. " He never 
 shirked his duty, and he died without a cry. He'll 
 rest easy, lads, and go to a sure reward." 
 
 The men returned to their food without any more
 
 266 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 talk. Death had lost much of its awesomeness in their 
 eyes of late. It did not seem such a terrible matter, 
 after all, here in the hold of the French schooner, 
 among the drifting ice. Neither life nor death seemed 
 a thing worth troubling about now. Poor old Jim! 
 Well, he was past suffering now, and perhaps well clear 
 of what was to come. More than one of those brave 
 fellows envied the dead man in their hearts.
 
 CHAPTER XXII 
 
 UNSUSPECTED FATE 
 
 ON the day of Hawkins's death, and after the body 
 had been carried up and pitched into the sea, Captain 
 Duval himself descended into the hold. He had been 
 in a terrible temper up to this time; and so, wishing to 
 appear a man of breeding in Drurie's eyes, had kept 
 away from his prisoners. 
 
 From the point of view of a pirate, he had reason 
 to feel bad-tempered ; for he had lost a vessel and forty 
 men, and his plans for the winter were knocked to 
 ruins, all for about a thousand pounds' worth of booty 
 and a handful of prisoners. And the English fort in 
 the wilderness stood unharmed, flying its red ensign 
 at the winter winds. 
 
 All this was a sorry blow to the Canadian's pride 
 as well as to his pocket. But he regained control of 
 his temper before going into the hold, anxious to 
 convince the pale young gentleman in irons that he, 
 too, was a gentleman. 
 
 Duval carried an extra lantern with him, and squatted 
 267
 
 268 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 on a bale of skins beside Drurie and Cremona. " I 
 hope you have been comfortable here," he said, as 
 if he had entertained honoured guests hi his best bed- 
 chamber. " And I hope you have had sufficient 
 food." 
 
 " You have treated us with exceptional kindness, and 
 I thank you for it hi all our names," replied the Vir- 
 ginian. 
 
 Duval was flattered by this. " Some commanders 
 would not have been so considerate," he said. " But 
 Denis St. Ovide Duval is a gentleman. Brave him- 
 self, he respects brave men even if they have sunk 
 one of his ships and killed forty of his mariners." 
 
 " We did what we could, captain," replied Drurie 
 quietly. " With sea room, I doubt not but that we 
 should have sent both your vessels to the bottom and 
 killed eighty of your men." 
 
 "Not so fast!" cried Duval. Then he laughed, 
 for he had a sense of humour. " You are outspoken, 
 captain. Your spirit is amazing high." 
 
 " I speak what I think and my spirit is as Heaven 
 made it." 
 
 " 'Tis so with all of us. So gentlemen of distin- 
 guished family are made. But your friend here, Cap- 
 tain Cremona, says nothing." 
 
 " When I talk," said Cremona, " I talk to a purpose.
 
 Unsuspected Fate 260 
 
 Will you tell me how things are doing up in daylight, 
 Captain Duval?" 
 
 " The ice has spread," replied the Canadian, " and 
 we are sailing southward very pleasantly, though our 
 rigging is not what it was." 
 
 "May I ask what you intend to do with us?" 
 inquired Drurie. 
 
 " That I cannot tell you at present," said Duval 
 politely. " I have not yet decided. If St. John's were 
 not in the hands of the English again, I'd land you 
 there. If I were bound for Quebec, I'd take you to 
 the governor there; but I am not. As it is, I cannot say 
 what I shall do with you; but you may be sure that 
 while you are in my hands you shall be treated with 
 every consideration due to prisoners of war." 
 
 Then he went away before they could ask him any 
 more questions. 
 
 Within a half-hour of his visit, a small measure of 
 fine brandy was served to each of the prisoners. 
 
 " I think this Duval an honest fellow," said Francis 
 to Cremona. 
 
 Cremona swallowed the last drop of his brandy 
 before replying. Then he said : " I think he has an 
 honest side to him and another side that is not so 
 honest. He is gentleman now rogue to-morrow. 
 That is what I hear. He had something bad in his
 
 270 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 brain even while he talked to us so polite. I could 
 see it behind his eyes, by the lantern-light. I think 
 this Duval cares greatly for you to think him all gentle- 
 man now; but when you no longer have your eye on 
 him, then he not give a hang what you think. He is 
 a vain fellow, but he knows his betters." 
 
 " He spoke us fairly enough, and has treated us 
 well," replied Drurie. 
 
 " I fear, Frank, you will hear him speak another 
 tune one day," returned Cremona. " The gentleman 
 in him will be weaker than the rogue one fine day - 
 and then you will want to break his head." 
 
 " We must take a little trouble to humour him, my 
 friend," said Drurie. 
 
 The wounded prisoners regained strength day by 
 day. Fortier, the surgeon, attended to their injuries 
 with honest care, and was proud of the success that 
 crowned his work. Only young Nicholas, Drurie's 
 servant, seemed to hang in the wind in the matter of 
 recovery. His wound had not been more severe 
 than the wounds of others; but his courage failed him 
 at thought of a French prison, and a slow fever thinned 
 his blood. 
 
 Now, the hatch overhead was often removed, and 
 left off throughout the heat of the day, letting the 
 fresh wind renew the air and lift the gloom of the hold.
 
 Unsuspected Fate 271 
 
 At the first sight of the blue sky and the white clouds 
 driving over, hope awoke in the heart of every man of 
 that shackled company. Even Nicholas opened his 
 eyes and took some interest in the things of the present. 
 As for the others why, it was like morning after a 
 night of despair. 
 
 They had almost become convinced that the whole 
 world was dark, faintly lit by the flames of two tallow- 
 dips in tin lanterns. They had all but forgotten 
 that winds blow and sails are spread on lively yards 
 and clouds voyage across the dome of heaven. For 
 days they had been nothing more than dreamers of 
 dull dreams. Now, in a twinkling, they were living 
 sailors again. They began to talk of gay things they 
 had done, at one time and another, and even to make 
 light of French prisons. 
 
 Captain Duval did not visit them again; but on 
 the fourteenth day, after the schooner had got clear 
 of the ice, he sent word for Drurie to come to the cabin. 
 
 It was Fortier who brought the message and helped 
 the Virginian to the deck, by way of a passage that 
 led into the forecastle and up an iron ladder to the 
 brisk and sunlit world above. The men of the schooner 
 eyed Drurie with interest even with admiration 
 as he walked aft, with his shackled hands and white, 
 fearless face.
 
 272 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 At the door of the inner cabin the surgeon left him. 
 
 An armed mariner opened the door for Drurie, 
 followed him into the cabin, and closed the door. The 
 ports stood open, admitting a draft of wind, a wavering 
 radiance of sunlight, and the sibilant complaining of 
 the schooner's wake. On the locker under the open 
 ports lolled Duval ruddy, black-haired, and black- 
 eyed and garbed midway between the style of a 
 French gentleman and a pirate. 
 
 " Place a seat for Captain Drurie," he commanded, 
 without rising. 
 
 Drurie sat down heavily on the stool that was pushed 
 against the back of his legs bv the armed mariner. 
 
 " Another glass on the table, Pierre. And now 
 you may withdraw to the other side of the door," said 
 the Canadian. 
 
 Left alone with his prisoner, Duval sat up and 
 pushed a bottle across the table. "It is good wine, 
 from the lazaretto of your own unfortunate brig, I 
 believe," he said. " Help yourself, captain." 
 
 Drurie flushed quickly and lifted his hands above 
 the edge of the table, so that the short chain between 
 the bracelets of iron clanked against the bottle. " I 
 must trouble you, I fear," he said. 
 
 " A thousand pardons," cried Duval, rising quickly. 
 He did not strike off the irons, however, but contented
 
 Unsuspected Fate 273 
 
 himself with pouring wine for the Virginian and then 
 for himself. 
 
 Drurie felt faint. He raised his glass clumsily in 
 both manacled hands and emptied it at a gulp. 
 
 Duval smiled and refilled the glass. Then he re- 
 turned to his lolling position on the locker. 
 
 " Captain Drurie," he said, " I have given a great 
 deal of thought to the case of you and your companions, 
 and also to the losses I have suffered at your hands. 
 The cargo and stores of your brig did not repay one- 
 fifth of my losses. I must try to recover what I can. 
 You understand, captain, that I do not work alto- 
 gether for glory. I am a poor man, and must look 
 sharp to the doubloons. But I do not blind myself 
 to the rights and feelings of others." 
 
 " I believe you," replied Drurie quietly. " You 
 speak honestly, and have treated me with more con- 
 sideration than I expected at your hands." 
 
 Duval leaned across the table and refilled the other's 
 glass. 
 
 " Well, sir," he continued, " I cannot carry you to 
 Quebec, as I told you before; and I should be sorry 
 to do so, anyway. I am sailing to the islands to the 
 south of St. Kitt's, to see if I cannot pick up a prize 
 or two in those waters. And I have a proposition 
 a suggestion to make to you."
 
 274 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 Drurie nodded and looked at him hopefully. What 
 now? 
 
 " I honour your spirit and that of your big friend 
 and your men," continued the Canadian. " It lost 
 me a good ship, forty stout lads, and a deal of stores; 
 but I honour it, for all it has cost me. Never have I 
 seen such fighting as that of your little brig. 
 
 " To show my admiration, I now offer you a position 
 as my lieutenant and berths for your friend and your 
 eight men. It is freedom I offer you, and membership 
 hi a brave company. When you have served with me 
 a year, if you or any of your men are then anxious to 
 leave me, I will set you ashore near some English 
 settlement." 
 
 " I thank you for your offer," replied Drurie. " No 
 doubt, you mean it kindly. But serving you for a 
 year means preying upon my own country for a year. 
 For myself, I refuse the offer. My comrades are free 
 to do as they please in the matter." 
 
 " You do not ask of the alternative ? " said Duval, 
 smiling. 
 
 " No matter what the alternative may be, I reject 
 your offer," said the Virginian, his blue eyes shining 
 as cold as ice. 
 
 " You speak bravely," said the Canadian. " But 
 listen, Captain Drurie. Those who cannot serve me,
 
 Unsuspected Fate 275 
 
 and so earn their freedom in an easy and pleasant 
 manner, must be sold to some sugar- planter in the 
 southern islands. Do you know the meaning of that ? 
 A white slave leads a hard life. One had better row 
 in a Turkish galley than work in the fields of a West 
 Indian plantation. Your courage is magnificent. 
 'Tis a pity to think of it breaking, day by day, under 
 the whips of half-caste drivers." 
 
 " I see my duty plain," replied Drurie promptly. 
 " I cannot turn my hand against the ships of my own 
 people. What is fighting for you would be nothing 
 but black murder for me. The blood on my hands 
 would not be blood of my enemies, but of my fellow 
 countrymen. I will work and die on any plantation 
 under the sun rather than desert the service in which 
 my fathers have fought and won glory. I cannot forget 
 that I am a Virginian gentleman." 
 
 "It is a pity," said Duval. " I think you are pig- 
 headed." 
 
 Poor young Drurie smiled faintly. This was cer- 
 tainly an unusual name for loyalty. Then a thought 
 came to him that awoke hope in him again. How 
 gladly his father would pay money to save him and 
 his comrades from the fate that threatened them! 
 And that money was what Duval wanted was plain as 
 a pikestaff.
 
 276 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 " My father is rich and generous," he said. " I 
 offer you a hundred pounds for each one of my little 
 company a thousand pounds in all. My home is 
 in Virginia; and I promise you, on the word of a 
 gentleman, that the money shall be paid to you the 
 very day you put us ashore in that country. And 
 you shall be allowed to get safely away again." 
 
 Duval shook his head. " I am sorry to seem dis- 
 obliging," he replied, " but I do not think it would 
 be wise for me to land you in Virginia. That is a 
 dangerous coast. A thousand pounds do not cover 
 the risks even if your generous father should con- 
 sider it worth his while to pay so much for what he 
 had already recovered." 
 
 He smiled slyly, emptied his glass, and refilled it. 
 
 " I answer for my father's honour," cried Drurie. 
 " He will pay double that sum of money, and let you 
 go as free as the wind. Yes, I promise you two thousand 
 pounds ! " 
 
 " The coast of Virginia is not a safe place for Captain 
 Duval hi his crippled schooner," replied the Canadian. 
 " I have sighted three English war-ships in those 
 waters in one day's run. I fear that the money would 
 be of small use to me if I went there to get it." 
 
 " Then land us somewhere near New England," 
 cried Drurie. " You may be sure that the money will
 
 Unsuspected Fate 277 
 
 be sent to you as soon as I can communicate with my 
 father. Come, captain! Two thousand pounds make a 
 goodly bag of money." 
 
 Duval shrugged his shoulders. "Bah! You are 
 brave, my friend and you are simple. But I am 
 not a fool! Say no more of your generous father." 
 
 He rapped sharply on the table with his knuckles. 
 The armed sailor opened the door and came to Drurie's 
 side. 
 
 " I am sorry that you are so pig-headed, Captain 
 Drurie," said Duval. 
 
 " And I am sorry that you will not accept my word 
 for the money," said Drurie, staring haughtily at the 
 big Canadian. 
 
 The guard led him away, back to his manacled 
 comrades in the dark hold. One by one the rest of 
 the survivors of the Brave Adventure's crew were 
 taken to Duval and offered membership in the schoon- 
 er's company. 
 
 Every one of them, except a lad named Stark, gave 
 the same answer that their commander had given. 
 After that there were nine prisoners in the hold instead 
 of ten. 
 
 As the schooner drew farther southward, the air 
 in the hold became almost unbearable. The stench 
 of the bilge a->vash only a few feet below them tortured
 
 278 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 even their seasoned nostrils. For a week the schooner 
 rolled idly in the doldrums. In such weather not so 
 much as a breath of wind came down to the prisoners 
 through the open hatch. 
 
 One night Drurie crawled under the square eye 
 of the hatch and lay flat on his back, gazing upward. 
 A touch of fever was in his blood. He counted the 
 large, indifferent stars over and over, trying thus to 
 win sleep to smarting eyelids and oblivion to aching 
 brain and body. Despair came instead. 
 
 For the first time since the sinking of the brig, his 
 courage failed him utterly. He groaned, and raised 
 his hands to his face; and hi the movement the chain 
 that held wrist to wrist fell heavily across his chin. 
 At that, sudden anger revived his spirit. He sat up 
 and stared Into the dark. 
 
 " Lads," he cried, " we are not beaten so long as 
 there is life In us. But Stark! Stark is in a worse 
 plight than the dead men under the ice! These dogs 
 will sell us to lesser dogs and these irons will be 
 struck from us so that w r e may work in the fields. 
 Strengthen your hearts for that day, lads there'll 
 be cold iron in our hands then instead of on our wrists." 
 
 When Drurie awoke, the sudden tropic morning 
 was aflare across the square of the hatchway. That 
 day the schooner won clear of the regions of calm.
 
 Unsuspected Fate 279 
 
 All her sails were spread to the steady wind, and she 
 lay over with a bar of white foam under her forefoot 
 and the furrows of her wake diverging far astern. 
 
 Duval had the captives brought on deck for an 
 airing. A healthy slave brings a better price than a sick 
 one. They sat forward, in the shade of the headsails, 
 and drank in the glitter and swing of wind and sea. 
 The rush of waters along the driving hull, the vision 
 of straining canvas, and the smell of pitch melting in 
 the seams revived hope in their courageous breasts. 
 
 They remembered with a glow of pride what a 
 great fight they had made against fearful odds; and 
 the certainty grew in their hearts that they should 
 fight again. Those who could moved up and down 
 the deck; and the homely sights of shipboard the 
 smoking galley, the captain's wash flying from a line, 
 and the fellow aloft in a boatswain's chair scraping the 
 maintopmast awoke the zest of life in them. The 
 Frenchmen grinned at them, and gave them tobacco 
 and lime-juice. Some of them showed their wounds 
 to the English with the greatest good-humour. They 
 seemed to recall the desperate battle only as a joke. 
 
 Throughout the remainder of the voyage the prisoners 
 were allowed to take an airing on the deck every day. 
 Also, they were well treated in the matter of food and 
 drink. But Duval kept away from them. He did not
 
 280 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 feel quite at ease when Drurie was looking at him. 
 The surgeon continued to tend such of the prisoners 
 as required his services. Soon the wounds were all 
 healed, and Nicholas, with his fever, was the only man 
 on the sick-list. 
 
 The schooner won to that fairy sea. Every day new 
 landfalls were made. Dolphins flashed about her 
 bows, and the blue water astern was cut by low, black 
 trysails, the dorsal fins of sharks, cruising back and 
 forth. Flying-fish broke from the waves in silver 
 showers, skimmed away until they were but specks 
 against the blue, and splashed again into the waves. 
 The schooner crowded away from every sail she 
 sighted. Once she ran so close to a little French island 
 that the men could count the red roofs of a village 
 nestled between the seaward palms and the timbered 
 shoulders of the mountain-cone. They could see brown 
 children at play on the lilac sand.
 
 CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 ISOBEL LOOKS FROM HER WINDOW 
 
 CAPTAIN DENIS ST. OVIDE DUVAL anchored his 
 schooner outside the reef of the little island of Madiana 
 and signalled for the don to come aboard. They were 
 supposed to be on friendly terms, this lawless Canadian 
 and this nameless Spaniard. For all that, the don 
 would not trust himself aboard the schooner. So Duval, 
 accompanied by one of his officers and four armed men, 
 went ashore. The don received him with many signs 
 of a delight which he did not feel. To tell the truth, 
 he was afraid of the Canadian. 
 
 " I have nine white slaves for you," said Duval. 
 " Two gentlemen and seven seamen. Do you want 
 them, my friend? " 
 
 " And why not ? I am short of hands. Of what 
 breed are they?" replied the don. He would have 
 bought the Frenchman's windlass or his spare set 
 of sails if asked anything to humour the dangerous 
 fellow and get him speedily away from the island. 
 
 " One is a Spaniard, or something of that kind. 
 
 281
 
 282 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 The others are English to a man," replied Duval 
 insolently. 
 
 The proprietor of the island paid no attention to 
 the note of insolence in the other's voice and manner. 
 " Send for them, captain. Bring them ashore and 
 let me glance them over," he cried as if he could 
 scarcely contain his delight at the prospect of buying 
 prisoners from the Canadian. 
 
 Yet he knew that he would have to pay a heavy 
 price for the fellows. Yes, a heavy price. Had he 
 known how heavy, I think he would have given Duval 
 all his fortune to carry them away. 
 
 Irons were put on the prisoners' legs for the first 
 time, and they were brought ashore. The don glanced 
 them over with a sinister smile. He was wishing that 
 Duval was one of them. 
 
 He walked up to Cremona. " You are a Spaniard," 
 he said. 
 
 " You are a liar," replied Cremona. "I am an 
 English gentleman." 
 
 The don drew back as if he had been stung. " You'll 
 die for that," he cried. " Your great carcass will rot 
 in the sun for that, you fool." 
 
 Duval and his fellows laughed long and loud. 
 " Yes, he is a gentleman, whatever country bred him," 
 said the Frenchman. " Two of them are men of
 
 Isobel Looks from Her Window 283 
 
 breeding, as I told you. I had no trouble with them, 
 for I know how to treat gentlemen. It is a pity you 
 do, not understand the breed." 
 
 The don found that a hard mouthful to swallow, 
 but he swallowed it. 
 
 Isobel closed the lower shutters of her window and 
 peeped out between the slats at the pitiful procession 
 that came slowly up from the sand. She had been 
 watching the schooner for some time and the men on 
 the shore, wondering if the visit of this fine craft 
 would bring any change in her dreary life. As the 
 strangers came nearer, and she saw that the main 
 body of them were ironed at wrist and leg, she under- 
 stood the reason of the schooner's visit, and her heart 
 sank. 
 
 The procession passed close to the front of the house. 
 Isobel looked down upon the ragged, weary fellows 
 as they toiled along through the beating sunlight. 
 Suddenly her attention was caught by the gallant, 
 familiar bearing of one of the shackled men. A low 
 cry escaped her and, as if he had heard the cry, the 
 man looked up. She gazed down, horror-stricken, 
 into the face of her lover into the thin, undaunted 
 face of Francis Drurie. Then a cloud of fire surged 
 across her vision. 
 
 Isobel recovered her senses quickly. At that moment
 
 284 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 her uncle entered the room. He came close to her and 
 took her roughly by the arm. 
 
 " I want you to keep out of sight until that schooner 
 gets her anchor up," he whispered. " She is a French 
 pirate. Her captain is now hi the dining-room. If 
 he catches sight of you why, you will wish that you 
 were still living quietly with me." 
 
 The girl promised to keep out of the pirate's sight. 
 Alcazardo left her after a final warning to keep to 
 her room and not to open the shutters of her windows. 
 Then she threw herself down upon the bed and wept. 
 
 What was she to do ? She knew to what a place her 
 lover had been brought, but her heart told her that it 
 would be dangerous to let him know of her presence 
 on the island or to let her uncle suspect Drurie's 
 identity. She prayed the knowledge be kept from him. 
 To what depths of torture it might inspire him, his 
 own black heart alone could say. After the storm of 
 tears, her mind was clear. She saw that she must now 
 work cunningly and swiftly toward Alcazardo's over- 
 throw. 
 
 She realized that she could not disclose her presence 
 to her lover, until the don's power was broken, without 
 danger to his life. He would spring upon the fellow, 
 bent upon her rescue, and die miserably and uselessly. 
 Her most terrible fear was that the don might learn
 
 Isobel Looks from Her Window 285 
 
 that one of his new slaves was none other than Francis 
 Drurie, the Virginian. Perhaps he already knew it. 
 Her mind tortured her with suppositions as to what the 
 monster would do in such a case. 
 
 He would see, in a flash, the end of his dream a 
 dream which the girl had artfully encouraged of 
 going back to Virginia some day and living the life of 
 a prosperous, godly gentleman. If he thought that 
 she had not seen her lover, might he not kill him im- 
 mediately, and so look to stand as firmly hi her favour 
 then as before ? What a thought ! Again, if he knew 
 that the girl had seen the Virginian, he would have no 
 more use for her. She trembled at thought of what 
 her fate might be. 
 
 In the dining-room Duval and the don drank wine 
 and bartered. At last the don paid over the exorbitant 
 sum demanded by the Canadian for the nine prisoners. 
 Then he began to ask questions. 
 
 " What ship did these fellows belong to ? " he 
 asked. 
 
 Now, there was no reason hi the world why Duval 
 should not tell the Spaniard what he knew of the 
 truth, but, not liking the fellow, his first thought was 
 to lie to him. 
 
 " They came out of a brig I captured off the coast 
 of Newfoundland," he said. " You will find them
 
 286 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 hardy lads. And two of them, as I have told you, are 
 gentlemen." 
 
 " And what are the names of those two ? " asked 
 the don. 
 
 " Bah! What do I know of the names of my pris- 
 oners ? " replied Duval. 
 
 " Slaves require no names," agreed the don. 
 
 He poured more wine for his guest and himself. 
 He was in a great hurry to get the Canadian out of 
 the house, for the fellow had an uncomfortable way 
 of staring at the box from which he had just been paid 
 for the slaves, and of looking at the silver on the side- 
 board with calculating eyes. By the time Duval was 
 ready to go back to his ship the don had forgotten the 
 mild curiosity he had once entertained regarding the 
 names of the men he had bought for so much good 
 gold. 
 
 At last the schooner got her anchor up and slipped 
 away, out of sight of the thankful Spaniard and the 
 Island of Madiana. She ran down the narrow sea 
 between the soaring cones of Martinique and Dominica, 
 and southward, still past island-holdings of Spain, 
 France, England, and Holland. There she gathered 
 easy spoil; and all the while her commander planned 
 a brave return against his old enemies in the smoky 
 seas of the north. But on his way to the north he
 
 Isobel Looks from Her Window 287 
 
 would stop at a certain small, unprotected island and 
 see what the don's fortune was worth. No doubt the 
 yellow-faced old devil had the price of more than one 
 good ship hidden away. 
 
 To the survivors of the Brave Adventure the change 
 from Duval's schooner to the don's island did not seem 
 at first to be a change for the better. The don was full 
 of cruelty. He gave his mind to the practice of causing 
 pain, as another man would to some absorbing sport. 
 He conceived the torture to suit the particular case in 
 hand, considering the temperament and constitution 
 of his victims with scientific nicety. His slaves stood 
 in such terror of him that fear hid their hatred, even 
 from themselves. He filled every day of their miserable 
 lives with such a dread and apprehension that many 
 of them, seeing no other way of escape, opened for 
 themselves the door of death. If the victim in such a 
 case happened to be old, feeble, or diseased, the word 
 of his self-destruction was received by the don with 
 every sign of satisfaction; but if, on the other hand, 
 the suicide had been a valuable slave, he fell into the 
 most furious transports of temper. On such an occasion 
 he had gone so far as to have one of his trusted over- 
 seers tied up and flogged. The don promised himself 
 a deal of diversion at the expense of his new English 
 slaves. As they were of a proud and courageous race,
 
 288 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 and the children of generations of freemen, subtle 
 cruelty would not be lost upon them. As for his other 
 white slaves why, like the blacks, they had become 
 so dispirited that they could only be aroused to suffering 
 by physical pain. But this new importation? Ah! 
 he would flay their pride as well as their backs. He 
 would crush them to the soil; break their manhood; 
 set their natures back a thousand years. 
 
 The wrists of the new slaves were freed, but the 
 irons were kept on their legs. They were given wide 
 hats of native straw, with the crowns filled with leaves 
 so that the sun would not strike them dead. They 
 were driven like cattle down a track, between 
 bananas and plantains, to a hillside field of young 
 canes. Each was given a hoe, of unwieldy shape 
 and extraordinary weight, and was directed by fierce 
 gestures to pulverize the sun-baked clods of soil about 
 the plants. 
 
 Drurie set an example manfully, and the others fol- 
 lowed it, determined to make the best of a bad business 
 for just so long as it was necessary. While their beloved 
 captain worked, they would work; and when he fought, 
 they would fight. They suffered as much from his 
 wounds and his weariness as from their own. 
 
 After two hours of steady work, the lad, Nicholas, 
 reeled and fell. An overseer shouted at him and
 
 Isobel Looks from Her Window 289 
 
 cracked the knotted, rawhide lash of his whip. Poor 
 Nicholas tried to regain his feet; tried to pick up the 
 hoe, only to fall again on hands and knees, and so 
 crouch helpless, close to the warm earth. The overseer 
 cursed furiously. 
 
 Stepping past several of the other labourers, who 
 had paused hi their work to gaze in pity and dismay 
 at their fallen comrade, he laid his whip, full-swung, 
 across the panting body. Nicholas flinched and 
 groaned. The fellow flung the whip back for another 
 blow; but before he could administer it, Drurie had 
 him by the throat, and all the new slaves were jumping 
 toward him on their shackled feet. He let fall the 
 whip, tore himself clear of the choking fingers, and 
 fled. 
 
 The don's new slaves spent that night on an earthen 
 floor, chained to the timbers of a foul hut. Young 
 Nicholas was in a raging fever. He rolled from side 
 to side, muttered continuously, and pulled at his 
 shackles. Despair and madness were in that black 
 hut; and death lurked without in the sickening, black 
 night, where a mulatto driver squatted with a musket 
 across his knees. 
 
 But Drurie's courageous soul was able to derive 
 some hope from the horrors of the past day. It seemed 
 to him that either death or a more desirable form of
 
 290 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 freedom must soon be theirs, for already every man 
 of them had tasted the lash, and they had all openly 
 attacked their taskmaster. This spirit meant a change 
 of some kind perhaps death, perhaps freedom. 
 And why not freedom ? 
 
 Surely these other slaves that he had seen suffering 
 in the fields were ready to rise! A sudden attack, a 
 quick death for some, and life for more. And then, if 
 he were fortunate enough to be one of the living, the 
 search for Isobel and her uncle. He recalled the fact 
 that one of the overseers had come but slowly to help 
 subdue the revolt of the morning, and that, though he 
 had snapped his whip diligently enough, he had not 
 struck any of the slaves. There was hope in that, 
 surely. 
 
 If that overseer could be won to his side, it would 
 be no great matter to put an end to the don's reign on 
 the island. Then he remembered the vision that had 
 come to him aboard the Brave Adventure. With hope 
 firm in his heart, he at last fell asleep. He did not 
 know how long he had been unconscious, when a 
 light touch on his shoulder awoke him. He felt that 
 some one stooped close to him. 
 
 " Who's there? " he whispered. 
 
 " Hush," came the guarded reply. 
 
 He felt a hand on his shoulder and the rim of a cool
 
 Isobel Looks from Her Window 
 
 cup against his lips. He drank eagerly; but the cup 
 was not held straight, and as much of the water spilled 
 over his chin and breast as passed down his parched 
 throat. But it felt delicious wherever it touched him. 
 At last the sweet cup was withdrawn. 
 
 "Who are you?" he whispered. The impact of 
 a light, soft-shod foot sounded twice on the earthen 
 floor. He turned on his side and listened. 
 
 There was only a sound of quiet breathing in the 
 dark. Even Nicholas had ceased his restless muttering. 
 The silence of peace filled the black hut as if an angel 
 had soothed it. 
 
 In the garden, on the other side of the wall from the 
 hut and the yard, two persons whispered together. 
 
 One was Isobel, the supposed daughter of the don; 
 the other was Laroche, the half-caste overseer whom 
 the don had once flogged. 
 
 " When the fight is well begun, they will all be brave 
 enough; but they fear the don worse than the devil 
 himself," said Laroche. 
 
 " It must be planned for the night after to-morrow," 
 whispered the lady. " You and Valois will offer to 
 take the places of the guards. Give them rum and a 
 little of this money." 
 
 Then they parted. The girl moved toward the house. 
 Laroche returned through the gate in the wall.
 
 CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 A PLEASANT TIME BEFORE BREAKFAST 
 
 VERY early in the morning, before any food was served 
 to them, the nine new slaves were lined up in the en- 
 closed yard in front of the hut in which they had spent 
 the night. The two overseers who marshalled them 
 had pistols in their belts as well as whips in their hands. 
 Laroche was not one of the two. Nicholas was in the 
 line, leaning weakly against one of his comrades. 
 Now and then a leg-iron clanked. Otherwise, the 
 slaves and their guards waited in silence the slaves 
 waiting for they knew not what. Over one wall they 
 saw the green crests of palms and the red-tiled roof 
 of the house. Over another loomed the stone tow r er 
 of the windmill. A draft of sea air came fanning down 
 to them, and then- hearts sickened with longing for 
 deck and spar. 
 
 A door in the wall, over which the palms could be 
 seen, opened suddenly, and the don stepped into the 
 yard. He was dressed in loose white linen, a hat of 
 native straw, and a sash of red silk around his waist. 
 
 292
 
 A Pleasant Time Before Breakfast 293 
 
 On his bare feet he wore heelless slippers of straw. 
 He halted a few paces from the prisoners and looked 
 them over with deliberate menace. Every man of them, 
 save Nicholas, met the black eyes fearlessly. Nicholas, 
 poor lad, was not even aware of the don's presence. 
 
 The Spaniard stared at Drurie with what seemed 
 exaggerated intentness, as if with his glance alone he 
 would force the younger and smaller man to some show 
 of weakness or fear. But in the clear blue eyes and 
 thin face he saw a spirit that challenged and scorned 
 him. He turned to the fellow whose throat had been 
 endangered by Drurie's fingers, and put a brief question 
 in Spanish. For answer, the overseer pointed at the 
 Virginian. 
 
 " You and your comrades are evidently of the lawless 
 class of English," said the don, leering at Drurie. 
 " I know the country. The men are all either cringing 
 shopkeepers or lawless ruffians. The women! Bah! 
 High and low, they are all equally without virtue." 
 
 " You are a liar! " said Drurie. 
 
 " You are a dirty dog! " cried Cremona. 
 
 The don's leer deepened. " Lawlessness is a thing 
 I dare not allow on this island," he said. " We live 
 in peace and harmony here. I do not like to have 
 my slaves attempt to murder the men I set over 
 them."
 
 294 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 He turned to the fellow whom Drurie had attacked 
 on the previous day. " As we are short of hands," 
 he said in Spanish, " and the crop is coming on, we 
 cannot give them as much as I should like just now. 
 Ten lashes apiece will do for to-day. Make haste, 
 for I have not yet had my coffee." 
 
 There were four iron rings in the wall two high 
 up, two close to the ground. One of the overseers 
 grabbed Drurie by the shoulder and began to push 
 him across the yard toward the wall. 
 
 "Not so fast!" cried the don. "We'll serve our 
 two fine gentlemen last of all. They'll enjoy watching 
 the sport." 
 
 So the ruffian released the Virginian and seized the 
 man who stood next in line. The poor fellow did not 
 resist, though his hands were free. In a trice he was 
 tied to the rings in the wall by wrists and ankles. His 
 tattered shirt was torn roughly from his back. The 
 short-stocked, long-lashed whip was swung back, and 
 at the same moment the other overseer presented his 
 pistols one at Drurie and one at Cremona. The 
 lashes whistled in the air and descended upon the 
 flinching back. The don began to count aloud. Again 
 the lashes swooped and fell. Again and this time 
 the blood sprang after the wire-tipped thongs, in dark 
 lines across the white back. And so on, until ten
 
 A Pleasant Time Before Breakfast 29,5 
 
 strokes had been methodically given and as methodi- 
 cally counted. 
 
 Then, poor Tyler was loosened from the wall, a 
 bucketful of water was sloshed over his back and some 
 sort of ointment was applied to the bruised and bleeding 
 flesh. When the cords were untied he fell to the ground 
 in a dead faint. He was carried into the hut by two 
 negro slaves; and as soon as he regained consciousness 
 a clean shirt was put upon him, and coffee and food 
 were given him. It was important that he should be 
 able to do his work, for this was a busy season of the 
 year on the little island. The canes in sixty acres of 
 the plantation were now ready for the knives of the 
 reapers, and, along with the harvesting and boiling, 
 many acres of young canes had still to be cultivated. 
 
 The two overseers took turn and turn about at 
 applying the whip to the backs of the English mariners. 
 The don counted the strokes and frequently cried for 
 more haste, as he had not yet partaken of his first 
 breakfast. When Nicholas was dragged to the wall, 
 Drurie protested at the top of his voice. 
 
 " You fiend/' he cried at the don, " can't you see that 
 ten lashes will kill him ? He is already all but dead with 
 the fever." 
 
 The don walked over to Nicholas and examined him 
 closely. " Yes, you are right," he said coolly. " The
 
 296 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 fellow cost me money and, also, I am short of hands. 
 It will be a month's time, perhaps, before I can afford 
 to give any of you your full measure of correc- 
 tion." 
 
 The Virginian's only reply was a look of such 
 unutterable hate and scorn that the don flushed under 
 his swarthy skin. 
 
 Last of all, Drurie was untied from the wall and 
 allowed to return to the hut. He walked without 
 assistance, clanking the chain between his feet. His 
 face was luminous with a desperate pallor, and blood 
 trickled down his lean back. He accepted the washing 
 and dressing without a word, and ate bravely when 
 food was brought to him. He drained his bowl of 
 coffee to the last drop and then looked at his men, 
 his glance passing tenderly from face to face. 
 
 " Keep up your courage, lads," said he, " for a low 
 heart breeds fever and fever is an enemy from whom 
 I cannot deliver you. As for this swine who thinks 
 he owns us ! Lads, as surely as I was bred in Virginia, 
 I'll show him to you before many days are gone, with 
 a yard of iron through his belly." 
 
 Having gloated over the sight of Drurie's lacerated 
 back until the gloom of the hut hid it from him, the 
 planter passed again through the door in the wall by 
 which he had entered the yard. By only the width
 
 A Pleasant Time Before Breakfast 297 
 
 of one step by the thickness of the wall was the 
 whipping-place separated from a garden paradise. 
 In the one were glaring sunshine, terror, iron, and little 
 drops of blood. In the other were blending of shadow 
 and sunlight, rustling of high foliage, great blooms of 
 hybiscus, and petals of red roses on the ground. 
 
 But the don was indifferent to the beauty of the one 
 as to the ugliness of the other. He needed a garden. 
 Therefore, the palms singing in the sea-breeze, lemon- 
 trees leaning above benches of carved stone, along 
 which green lizards darted in their play; therefore, the 
 bells of the hybiscus flowers and the flaring blooms of 
 the flambeau-trees; therefore, the roses budding and 
 blowing. He must whip his slaves; and, therefore, the 
 unshaded yard, the high wall, and the rings in the 
 masonry. 
 
 Alcazardo passed under the green branches and 
 flaring blooms and ascended a flight of steps to the 
 gallery of his house. In the cool shade stood a table 
 set for two. Here were white linen and gleaming 
 silver. An old man stood beside the table. 
 
 " Tell the senorita that I am ready," ordered the 
 doii. The old man hurried away. 
 
 In a moment Isobel appeared, her face as white as 
 the linen on the table and her eyes gleaming with 
 tears. Her uncle sneered at her openly.
 
 298 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 " Well, my daughter, what is the trouble with you? " 
 he asked, with mocking tenderness in his voice. 
 
 The girl could not find courage to meet his cruel, 
 searching regard. She was afraid that he might read 
 what was in her heart the hate, the contempt, the 
 crouching fury that was so soon to strike. 
 
 " I am not well," she faltered. " I feel feverish and 
 weak. I yearn for my home in Virginia." 
 
 He accepted this statement without a suspicion. 
 " You must take some quinine and keep out of the 
 sun," he said. " And as for your home in Virginia 
 well, you'll get there all in good time, my dear." 
 
 While eight of the new slaves toiled in the fields, 
 and the lad Nicholas lay raving in the dark hut, Isobel 
 and the fellow Laroche went steadily about their hidden 
 work. 
 
 Before evening the little schooner Twelve Apostles 
 put into the lagoon, with a cargo of stores for the 
 island. The hearts of Isobel and Laroche lifted at the 
 sight of her. 
 
 At last night came, and the men of the Brave Adven- 
 ture dragged themselves back to the hut. They were 
 chained in their places and fed. Drurie saw that the 
 man on guard was the same fellow who had withheld 
 his hand during the brief revolt of the previous day. 
 He stood in the door of the hut, a black bulk against
 
 A Pleasant Time Before Breakfast 299 
 
 the paler dark of the early night. The lads on the 
 earthen floor, with iron hi their souls as well as on 
 their limbs, were desperate. Even Cremona had lost 
 all sense of caution. They begged Drurie to let them 
 fight as soon as they were unchained hi the morning. 
 
 " Let us ease our souls a bit, sir, afore we die," 
 pleaded Tyler. " 'Twould be like liquor to us, sir, 
 to kill some o' these fiends." 
 
 "If we do not fight soon, we'll have no strength 
 to fight at all," said Cremona. 
 
 Before Drurie could answer, the guard turned and 
 stepped close to him, and whispered something hi 
 Spanish. 
 
 " Tell it to me," said Cremona. " I know the talk." 
 
 Laroche moved to Cremona's side. " You must wait 
 until to-morrow night," he whispered. " Then I will 
 remove the chains and free your hands and your feet 
 and give you each a cutlass. The senorita and I have 
 arranged this. The other slaves are cowards; but they 
 will rise when they know that you are already creeping 
 upon the house. We shall kill the don and capture the 
 schooner." 
 
 Cremona could scarcely believe the evidence of his 
 ears. 
 
 " Are you honest hi this or is it some new tor- 
 ture? " he asked.
 
 300 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 Laroche drew a crucifix from his breast and swore 
 a great oath that he meant every word of what he had 
 said. 
 
 " Then you shall be well paid for it, my friend. 
 The captain is a rich man, and will be generous with 
 you," said Cremona. 
 
 " Nay, I want no money from you," replied Laroche. 
 " The senorita has promised me an honourable position 
 and a sum of money but my reward will be to see 
 the blood of that black dog spurting out." 
 
 " Who is this senorita? " asked Cremona. 
 
 " They call her the don's daughter," whispered 
 Laroche. " But I do not think this is so, for she hates 
 the dog even as you and I hate him. We have had no 
 courage to strike; but when you came, and the captain 
 there looked as if he feared the don no more than a dead 
 fish, then we found our courage. So you must keep your 
 hearts covered until I come to you to-morrow night." 
 
 Without another word, the overseer went noiselessly 
 back to the door of the hut, stood there a few moments 
 with his musket across the hollow of his arm, and 
 then stepped into the yard. From somewhere in the 
 distance came the voices of the crew of the little 
 schooner. The fellows were singing over their liquor. 
 
 Cremona crawled as close to Drurie as his chain 
 would allow and whispered him the story of their
 
 A Pleasant Time Before Breakfast 301 
 
 promised deliverance. And so, in fragments, it passed 
 from one to another of the battered company. It put 
 new life into them, and went to their heads like wine. 
 Again the world was theirs, and they saw again the 
 tall spars and white sails of ships and the hills and 
 fields of their distant homes. The glad news set all 
 hearts aglow with hope, save the heart of the lad 
 Nicholas. He, poor fellow, had died quietly even while 
 the overseer whispered in Cremona's ear. 
 
 At last sleep came to them, and silence filled that 
 black hut where eight living men and one dead man 
 lay chained on the earthen floor. Throughout the 
 long night Drurie dreamed of Isobel and Virginia.
 
 CHAPTER XXV 
 
 THE RISING 
 
 WHEN Alcazardo heard next morning that one of 
 his new slaves was dead, he fell into a fit of ungovern- 
 able fury. He had spared the fellow a whipping so 
 that he might live and, behold, the rascal had died, 
 thus cheating the unfortunate don of the pleasure of 
 counting ten more lashes as well as of the price paid 
 to Duval. He raved like a madman; and as for the 
 fellow who brought him the news, he received a blow 
 on the side of the head from a candlestick that laid 
 him flat for half the day. 
 
 Then the don set out for the field in which the English 
 slaves were at work. He carried in his hand a long and 
 limber stick of the West Indian vine called supple- 
 jack. Upon reaching the toiling, weary fellows, he 
 laid about him cruelly, striking their aching legs and 
 raw backs with merciless, slashing cuts. 
 
 " I'll soon have you all on the dunghill where your 
 shipmate was thrown this morning," he cried. 
 
 At that, the Virginian's rage overcame his caution. 
 302
 
 The Rising 303 
 
 He straightened himself and looked the don up and 
 down. "You shameless cur! The only white man 
 you are not afraid of is a dead one," he cried. 
 
 Alcazardo sprang at him and struck him fair across 
 
 the face with the heavy, fibrous stick. Twice he struck 
 
 and at the second blow Drurie fell without a sound. 
 
 When Drurie recovered consciousness it was to find 
 himself on the earthen floor of the hut. His face and 
 left eye ached with a dull throbbing that, at the slightest 
 movement, sprang to excruciating activity. He lifted 
 his hand cautiously and felt that his head and face 
 were generously bandaged in damp cloths. At the 
 discovery, thought of the senorita, of whom the over- 
 seer had spoken, came to him. The cloths that bound 
 head and eyes were of fine linen, and a subtle fragrance 
 of lavender exhaled from them. An overseer would 
 have bandaged his wounds with very different material, 
 he reflected. Could it be that the senorita, that mys- 
 terious and merciful being, had tended him with her 
 own hands? How strongly, sweetly familiar this scent 
 of lavender! 
 
 Francis Drurie felt a light, light touch on his hand. 
 It brought him back from a sweet half dream of Vir- 
 ginia. 
 
 " You must drink this," whispered a muffled voice 
 at his ear. He felt a tender arm behind his head and
 
 304 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 the cool rim of a cup against his lips. He drank the 
 wine and water, helpless and obedient as a child. 
 
 "Is it the merciful senorita? " he asked when the 
 cup was withdrawn. 
 
 " Yes," came the reply, in a faint but thrilling 
 whisper. 
 
 " I do not ask your reason for planning to save us, 
 but I thank you with all my heart," he said. " If you, 
 too, wish to be saved from this place of despair - 
 madam, I ask no questions I shall blithely risk my 
 life to save you. It is for the love of one merciful and 
 beautiful woman that I cling to life then in the 
 service of another as merciful, and perhaps as beautiful, 
 let me lose it." 
 
 "What is the name of the woman you love?" 
 asked the voice of the senorita, so low that he could 
 scarcely hear the words. 
 
 " Isobel," replied Drurie frankly. It was like food 
 to his hungry heart to speak of his love. 
 
 " Then, for her sake, you must save yourself and 
 me," came the faint reply. " Before midnight your 
 chains shall be unfastened. Be wise and brave. For 
 her sake Heaven prosper you, my captain." 
 
 He felt the touch of lips on his hand. Quick as 
 thought, for all the blindness of his bandaged eyes, he 
 caught one of her hands and pressed it to his lips.
 
 The Rising 305 
 
 For hours Drurie lay there, alone, his heart full of 
 hope and of a strange, sweet excitement. He thought 
 of the senorita and it was the vision of Isobel that 
 came to his mind. This was a mad thing, but none 
 the less exhilarating for its madness. He gave his 
 imagination free wing. The hand he had kissed 
 became the hand of the beautiful girl he loved. He 
 pictured Isobel in that dank hut, kneeling on the 
 earthen floor and supporting his head on one white and 
 rounded arm and holding the cup to his lips. At last 
 he heard the shuffling of naked, blistered feet and the 
 clanking of irons, and he knew that the day of toil 
 was over and the night of deliverance at hand. 
 
 Then reason returned to his brain, but not to his 
 heart. His brain told him that the approaching hour 
 held nothing for him but a battle and the chance of 
 life or death. Yet his heart played with the mad 
 dream of the girl he loved. 
 
 Food and water were brought to the eight survivors. 
 Even Drurie forced a little of the unsavoury mess 
 down his throat. In broken whispers the plan of the 
 attack was passed along the wall from one to another 
 of the shackled slaves. 
 
 They were slaves no longer. Already their hearts 
 were free and the chains on their aching bodies for- 
 gotten. Again they were sailors and soldiers, and a
 
 306 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 fight was close at hand. Sweet is rest after strife; 
 but sweeter still is strife after slavery and torture, hope 
 after despair. 
 
 They waited in the dark hut, whispering, joking a 
 little. They could hear the other slaves, in their 
 distant quarters, chanting a wild, tuneless song. 
 
 Hall, a big New Englander, began snapping the 
 joints of his fingers. " I must supple 'em up a bit," he 
 whispered, " so's to get a good grip on the cutlass." 
 
 " Aye, an' mine be as stiff as \vood," replied another; 
 " but they'll limber, I reckon, when they feel the shark- 
 skin grip o' a good hanger." 
 
 " There be no cuttin'-tool in the world so sweet to 
 handle as a fust-class English-made hanger," said 
 Tyler, with relish hi his tones. 
 
 At last Laroche and two blacks entered the hut. 
 The blacks carried cutlasses wrapped in sacking. 
 Laroche carried a clay jug full of water and rum and 
 fresh limes. He placed it on the earthen floor and felt 
 his way to where Drurie sat against the wall. He 
 unlocked the great chain from the Virginian's waist, 
 and then struck off the irons from wrist and leg. And 
 so with the other seven, working sw r iftly and noiselessly. 
 When all were free, without a word they went to where 
 the two bundles of cutlasses lay on the ground, and 
 each selected a weapon to suit his hand and arm.
 
 The Rising 507 
 
 Then, also in silence, each drank a measure of the 
 revivifying punch. As there was only one cup they 
 drank in turn, according to their old ratings aboard 
 the Brave Ad-venture. 
 
 The night was windless and a mist hung between 
 the stars and the earth. The eight, accompanied by 
 Laroche and the two blacks who had brought them 
 their weapons, stole from the hut and across the little 
 yard. Drurie still wore a bandage around his head and 
 over his injured eye; but he had parted the damp 
 and fragrant folds of the linen so that he could see with 
 his right eye. 
 
 At the gate in the wall they divided into two parties. 
 Cremona, with Hall, Waller, and Hogan and the two 
 blacks, went down the slope toward the lagoon where 
 a lantern in the rigging of the little schooner glowed like 
 a red star. Tyler, Benson, and Jarvis, led by Drurie 
 and Laroche, crawled slowly and noiselessly through 
 the garden toward the house. 
 
 At last, peering between the rose-bushes, Drurie 
 caught sight of the don taking his ease with the master 
 of the Twelve Apostles. The two rascals sat scarcely 
 ten yards away, at a small table at the top of the gallery 
 steps. Two candles stood on the table, the flames 
 straight as darts in the nerveless air. The men were 
 leaning forward, smoking and talking confidentially.
 
 308 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 Glasses and a round-bellied decanter gleamed between 
 them in the soft glow of the candles. The heart of the 
 decanter, being of choice and ancient rum from Mar- 
 tinique, shone red as a ruby. 
 
 Drurie was motionless as stone, crouched there 
 close to the warm earth, gripping the hilt of his cutlass 
 with fingers as hard as iron. And his heart was hard 
 as iron, though heated red with hate of the man who sat 
 so close to him, leering behind the candles. 
 
 He thought of his dead servant, the lad Nicholas, 
 and of the blood springing across the backs of his men. 
 He remembered the stinging, crushing strokes of the 
 stick across his face. His men stirred behind him, 
 gripping and regripping their weapons and gasping 
 nervously for a full breath of the heavy air. 
 
 Laroche touched Drurie's arm and whispered that 
 the lantern was being lowered from the rigging of the 
 schooner. Drurie got quietly to his feet, paused for a 
 moment to hear his men rise behind him, and then 
 dashed for the gallery. The table went over with a 
 crash of glass and silver and the candles were trampled 
 under foot. 
 
 "Hold them, lads," cried Drurie. "Do not kill! 
 It is for me to kill!" 
 
 In the dark it was hard to know when you were 
 killing a man and when you were simply trying to keep
 
 The Rising 309 
 
 him from killing you. The lads did their best to obey 
 their commander's orders; but when Laroche came 
 suddenly from the interior of the house with two fresh 
 candles in his hands, the master of the little schooner 
 was found to be lying flat on the floor of the gallery, 
 stone dead. 
 
 Benson and Jarvis held the don, faint, but uninjured. 
 A cheer rang across from the little vessel in the lagoon ; 
 and from the direction of the slaves' quarters, where the 
 overseers and drivers had been making merry with the 
 crew of the schooner, came sounds as of wild beasts 
 in mortal combat. 
 
 " They have lost their fear of the don and his hire- 
 lings," said Drurie, with a shudder. 
 
 More candles were brought from the house. Some 
 were placed on the ledges of the windows, and some on 
 the rail of the gallery. The shipmaster's body and 
 the chairs and broken table were tossed into the garden. 
 
 " Now, lads," said Drurie, " I am going to kill this 
 dog in fair fight. Guard the steps, one of you. Give 
 him a cutlass, some one." 
 
 He turned to the limp figure in the grip of the two 
 Englishmen. " I'll give you a chance to die like a man, 
 even if you have never lived like one," he said. 
 
 Laroche handed his former master a cutlass. " You 
 will remember my back when this gentleman drives a
 
 310 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 foot of iron into your dirty carcass," he said, grin- 
 ning. 
 
 The seamen released Alcazardo. He held the cutlass 
 limply and stood like a man in a dream. 
 
 " Lads," said Drurie, " low as this fellow is, I want 
 to kill him fair. If he disables me, or kills me, you must 
 let him go free though where to, the devil only knows. 
 He may have a boat hidden somewhere, in which he'll 
 be able to row away to some other island. However 
 that may be, if he beats me in fair fight you must let 
 him go. But you need not fear. I promised to show 
 you his blood, and I'll do it." 
 
 Laroche smiled quietly. He was not bound by any 
 rules of honesty in matters of this kind, as were the 
 Virginian and the sailors. He had his cutlass ready, 
 alert to strike the don at the first sign of his overpower- 
 ing the other. 
 
 Fired with the courage of desperation, the don 
 attacked strongly, ringing cut after cut on Drurie's 
 guard. Both his eyes were at his service and his arm 
 was long. At first it seemed to the onlookers as if he 
 would surely overcome his small and enfeebled an- 
 tagonist. 
 
 Then, suddenly, Drurie halted in his slow and 
 staggering retreat ; and in the instant of ceasing to 
 retreat he began to advance. He saw that he must make
 
 The Rising 311 
 
 a great effort, even if at the expense of all his strength. 
 His short blade circled and stabbed a rapier and a 
 sabre in one. He moved swiftly and lightly, to the 
 right, to the left, and forward. 
 
 Tyler chuckled. Laroche swore softly in admiration. 
 Then the don screamed at the bite of an inch of cold 
 steel in his shoulder and lurched to one side. The 
 candles toppled from the rail into the garden. A back- 
 handed sweep of his blade sent the other candles flying 
 from the window-sill. 
 
 " He's gone! After him, my lads! " cried Drurie. 
 
 The don had escaped, sure enough. Clearing the 
 railing of the gallery at a bound, he dashed through 
 the rose-garden, through a hedge of flowering shrubs, 
 and into a field of full-grown canes^ and hot on his 
 trail dashed Laroche, the three English sailors, and 
 half a dozen blacks. The night was dark and the trail 
 thick with blinds. 
 
 Drurie did not follow his antagonist. He had put 
 every ounce of his strength into the combat with the 
 Spaniard, and now a sudden swirling faintness overtook 
 him. He reeled to the open door and peered within. 
 The great hall was dark; but he made out a gleam of 
 white close in front of him. 
 
 " Are you safe, senorita? " he cried. Then he fell 
 across the threshold.
 
 312 A Cavalier of Virginia 
 
 Around the house, and through the canes, the slaves 
 still hunted. Their fierce, exultant cries rang far and 
 wide over the little island. Cremona and his men 
 held the little schooner. Laroche, three of the English 
 seamen, and a few blacks guarded the house. They 
 knew that as soon as the hunting was over the mad pack 
 would loot and destroy the house. 
 
 " We must hurry, senorita," said Laroche. " Let 
 two of these men carry their captain. We must get 
 aboard the schooner before the beasts outside become 
 quite mad. They have found the rum and they 
 have tasted blood." 
 
 But at that moment Francis Drurie came back to the 
 world. Looking up, he saw the face of Isobel Dariza 
 close above him, the wonderful eyes agleam with tears. 
 
 " It is another vision," he said, weakly. 
 
 Then the face came closer, and he felt her lips upon 
 his. 
 
 Captain Denis St. Ovide Duval sighted the little 
 island shortly before noon; and as he drew near a 
 small schooner passed across his course, not a mile 
 distant, and headed northward. 
 
 " Let her go," said he. " She'd not be worth the 
 trouble of overhauling." 
 
 When he arrived off the entrance to the lagoon he
 
 The Rising 313 
 
 beheld a smouldering ruin where the denies fine house had 
 stood; and a mob of wild creatures, armed with cane- 
 knives, shouted defiance from the beach. Had he 
 been foolhardy enough to force a landing he might 
 have stumbled across the lifeless and mutilated body 
 of the Sefior Josef Alcazardo. 
 
 THE END.
 
 From 
 
 L. C. Page & Company's 
 
 Announcement List 
 
 of New Fiction 
 
 DAVID BRAN 
 
 By MORLEY ROBERTS, author of " Rachel Marr," " The 
 
 Idlers," etc. 
 
 Cloth decorative, with frontispiece in color by Frank T. 
 
 Merrill $1.50 
 
 In " David Bran " Mr. Roberts presents in a new light the old 
 story of a man and two women. Characterized as this book 
 is by the skilful achievement which distinguished " Rachel 
 Marr," its interest is strengthened by a remarkable defence of 
 heterodox doctrines and the surprising and courageous conclusion 
 to which the author draws his novel. 
 
 " Among living novelists Morley Roberts holds a high place; 
 but ' David Bran ' will enormously strengthen his reputation." 
 Rochester Post-Express. 
 
 " Few writers of the day so thoroughly comprehend the 
 educational and fictional value of suffering, and few books 
 present so fine a problem. It is, in fact, so fine that any statement 
 of it sounds crude, almost coarse, and the book must be read to 
 be comprehended." Chicago Daily News. 
 
 " As to the hearts of men and of some women, he is cynical. 
 But he draws capital pictures of the gossiping old men of Tres- 
 cas and when he is sounding for us the deeps in the natures of 
 Lou Trevarris, Kate Poldrew and even David Bran, the name of 
 his writer's gift is Wonderful." N. Y. World. 
 
 THE QUEST FOR THE ROSE OF SHARON 
 
 By BURTON E. STEVENSON, author of " The Marathon Mys- 
 tery," " The Holladay Case," etc. 
 
 Illustrated, cloth decorative $1.25 
 
 This tale of mystery and its solution contains all the elements 
 which go to make a fascinating story, in which one's sympathies 
 are awakened over the impending misfortunes of the little heroine 
 and her family, and one's curiosity is excited to the utmost by 
 the methods employed to bring to a successful termination a 
 quest which is not accomplished until the very last chapter is 
 reached. 
 
 The author's style is quaint and charming and the characters 
 all flesh and blood.
 
 L. C. PAGE S* COMPANY'S 
 
 ANNE OF AVONLEA 
 
 By L. M. MONTGOMERY, author of " Anne of Green Gables." 
 
 Illustrated, cloth decorative $1.50 
 
 Anne Shirley (Anne of Green Gables) is beyond question the 
 most popular girl heroine in recent fiction, and the reading public 
 will be glad to hear more of her. In the present volume Anne is 
 as fascinating as ever, and the author has introduced several new 
 characters, including the highly imaginative and charming little 
 boy, Paul Irving, whose quaint sayings will recall to the reader 
 the delightful Anne on her first appearance at Green Gables. 
 Some opinions regarding Anne of Green Gables: 
 " In ' Anne of Green Gables ' you will find the dearest and 
 most moving and delightful child since the immortal Alice." 
 Mark Twain in a letter to Francis Wilson. 
 
 " I see that she has become one of the popular young ladies of 
 the season, but I can assure you that if she had no one else to 
 love her, I should still be her most devoted admirer. . . . And 
 I take it as a great test of the worth of the book that while the 
 young people are rummaging all over the house looking for Anne, 
 the head of the family has carried her off to read on his way to 
 town." Bliss Carman. 
 An English opinion: 
 
 " At long intervals there is sent across the Atlantic a book 
 which lives in the public memory for years. Such were ' Helen's 
 Babies ' and ' Little Lord Fauntleroy,' and ' Anne of Green 
 Gables ' deserves to make an equal sensation." The Notting- 
 ham (England) Guardian. 
 
 A GENTLEMAN OF QUALITY 
 
 By FREDERIC VAN RENSSELAER DEY, author of " The Magic 
 
 Story." 
 
 With frontispiece in color by Frank P. Fairbanks. Cloth 
 
 decorative $1.50 
 
 A thrilling tale of mistaken identity, the scene of which 
 is laid for the most part in England of the present day. It is 
 a graphic story of human, forceful life; of despair crowding a 
 man even while a woman's love seeks to surround him; of 
 trickery and guilelessness; of vengeance robbed; of the unwilling 
 masquerader who unknowingly follows the lead of justice away 
 from the bitter of crime and the sweet of love, on to a new 
 shore and through the mazes of English aristocratic life, till he 
 rests at last where no man can foresee who has not been with 
 Love a Pioneer.
 
 LIST OF NEW FICTION 
 
 THE MYSTERY OF MISS MOTTE 
 
 By CAROLINE ATWATER MASON, author of " The Binding of 
 
 the Strong," " A Lily of France," etc. 
 
 With frontispiece in color by Albert R. Thayer. 
 
 Cloth decorative . $1.25 
 
 Mrs. Mason's story is a delightful combination of mystery and 
 romance. The heroine, a young woman of remarkable per- 
 sonality and charm, is persuaded, on account of disclosures made 
 by her mother, into a promise never to marry, and hence holds 
 herself aloof, which but adds zest to the pursuit of her several 
 admirers. The unravelling of the truth concerning her birth, and 
 its effect on the mother, solves the mystery to the reader and 
 brings the romance to a happy termination in a dramatic climax. 
 
 The other characters in the book, the worldly clergyman; his 
 assistant, a young man of his ideals; the society woman of 
 wealth and her invalid husband with scientific proclivities, as 
 well as the morbid mother, are all splendidly drawn. 
 
 THE FURTHER ADVENTURES OF QUINCY ADAMS 
 SAWYER AND MASON CORNER FOLKS 
 
 By CHARLES FELTON PIDGIN, author of " Quincy Adams 
 Sawyer," " Blennerhassett," " Stephen Holton," etc. 
 With six full-page illustrations by Henry Roth. 
 
 Cloth decorative $1.50 
 
 Some eight years ago, " Quincy Adams Sawyer and Mason 
 Corner Folks " was published, being heralded, truthfully, as the 
 work of an " unknown author." The book met with instant 
 recognition by the critics and public, and proved one of the 
 " best sellers " in recent years. Hundreds of letters have come 
 to the author from unknown correspondents all over the country 
 asking if they are not going to hear more about " Quincy " and 
 the other characters in the book. The present story has all the 
 popular appeal of the earlier book and should repeat its success. 
 
 MASTERS OF CIRCUMSTANCE 
 
 By THEODORE ROBERTS, author of " Hemming, the Adven- 
 turer," " Captain Love," etc. 
 
 Illustrated, cloth decorative $1.50 
 
 The scene of Mr. Roberts' new story is laid in early Colonial 
 times in Virginia, although part of the action takes place upon 
 the high seas. The story is easily the best that Mr. Roberts 
 has yet done, and his descriptions of the ample hospitality of 
 early days in Virginia, the chivalry of its men and the beauty 
 of its women, have never been surpassed.
 
 L. C. PAGE &> COMPANY 
 
 TAG: YOU'RE IT; OR THE CHIEN BOULE DOG 
 
 By VALANCE J. PATRIARCHS. 
 
 Illustrated. Cloth decorative $1.00 
 
 An amusing story of a newly married couple, whose honey- 
 moon is interrupted by the appearance of a lost child, and a dog, 
 decidedly a dog. The young wife, whose kindly interest in the 
 forlorn little fellow traveller, " Bateese " and his " Chien Boule 
 Dog," results in all sorts of complications, the young husband, 
 and last, though not least, the boy, " Bateese," who is sublimely 
 unconscious of being the central figure in what proves almost a 
 tragedy (at least from the point of view of a man cheated out of 
 his noneymoon) are all drawn with a fine humor. 
 
 The story is an exquisite bit of humor which will be read again 
 and again.
 
 Selections from 
 L. C. Page and Company's 
 List of Fiction 
 
 WORKS OF 
 
 ROBERT NEILSON STEPHENS 
 
 Each one vol., library 12mo, doth decorative . . $1.50 
 
 THE FLIGHT OF GEORGIANA 
 
 A ROMANCE OF THE DATS OF THE YOUNG PRETENDER. Illus- 
 trated by H. C. Edwards. 
 
 " A love-story in the highest degree, a dashing story, and a re- 
 markably well finished piece of work." Chicago Record-Herald. 
 
 THE BRIGHT FACE OF DANGER 
 
 Being an account of some adventures of Henri de Launay, son 
 of the Sieur de la Tournoire. Illustrated by H. C. Edwards. 
 " Mr. Stephens has fairly outdone himself. We thank him 
 
 heartily. The story is nothing if not spirited and entertaining, 
 
 rational and convincing." Boston Transcript. 
 
 THE MYSTERY OF MURRAY DAVENPORT 
 
 (40th thousand.) 
 
 " This is easily the best thing that Mr. Stephens has yet done. 
 Those familiar with his other novels can best judge the measure 
 of this praise, which is generous." Buffalo News. 
 
 CAPTAIN RAVENSHAW 
 
 OR, THE MAID OF CHEAPSIDE. (52d thousand.) A romance 
 of Elizabethan London. Illustrations by Howard Pyle and 
 other artists. 
 
 Not since the absorbing adventures of D'Artagnan have we had 
 anything so good in the blended vein of romance and comedy. 
 
 THE CONTINENTAL DRAGOON 
 
 A ROMANCE OF PHILIPSE MANOR HOUSE IN 1778. (53d 
 thousand.) Illustrated by H. C. Edwards. 
 A stirring romance of the Revolution, with its scenes laid on 
 neutral territory.
 
 L. C. PAGE &> COMPANY'S 
 
 PHILIP WINWOOD 
 
 (70th thousand.) A Sketch of the Domestic History of an 
 American Captain in the War of Independence, embracing 
 events that occurred between and during the years 1763 and 
 1785 in New York and London. Illustrated by E. W. D. 
 Hamilton. 
 
 AN ENEMY TO THE KING 
 
 (70th thousand.) From the " Recently Discovered Memoirs 
 of the Sieur de la Tournoire." Illustrated by H. De M. Young. 
 An historical romance of the sixteenth century, describing the 
 
 adventures of a young French nobleman at the court of Henry 
 
 III., and on the field with Henry IV. 
 
 THE ROAD TO PARIS 
 
 A STORY OF ADVENTURE. (35th thousand.) Illustrated by 
 
 H. C. Edwards. 
 
 An historical romance of the eighteenth century, being an 
 account of the life of an American gentleman adventurer of 
 Jacobite ancestry. 
 
 A GENTLEMAN PLAYER 
 
 His ADVENTURES ON A SECRET MISSION FOR QUEEN ELIZA- 
 BETH. (48th thousand.) Illustrated by Frank T. Merrill. 
 The story of a young gentleman who joins Shakespeare's com- 
 pany of players, and becomes a friend and protege of the great 
 poet. 
 
 CLEMENTINA'S HIGHWAYMAN 
 
 Cloth decorative, illustrated $1.50 
 
 Mr. Stephens has put into his new book, " Clementina's High- 
 wayman," the finest qualities of plot, construction, and literary 
 finish. 
 
 The story is laid in the mid-Georgian period. It is a dashing, 
 sparkling, vivacious comedy, with a heroine as lovely and 
 changeable as an April day, and a hero all ardor and daring. 
 
 TALES FROM BOHEMIA 
 
 Illustrated by Wallace Goldsmith. 
 
 Cloth, decorative cover $1.50 
 
 These bright and clever tales deal with people of the theatre 
 and odd characters in other walks of life which fringe on Bohemia.
 
 LIST OF FICTION 
 
 WORKS OF 
 
 CHARLES G. D. ROBERTS 
 
 HAUNTERS OF THE SILENCES 
 
 Cloth, one volume, with many drawings by Charles Livingston 
 Bull, four of which are in full color .... $2.00 
 The stories in Mr. Roberts's new collection are the strongest and 
 best he has ever written. 
 
 He has largely taken for his subjects those animals rarely met 
 with in books, whose lives are spent " In the Silences," where they 
 are the supreme rulers. Mr. Roberts has written of them sympa- 
 thetically, as always, but with fine regard for the scientific truth. 
 " As a writer about animals, Mr. Roberts occupies an enviable 
 place. He is the most literary, as well as the most imaginative 
 and vivid of all the nature writers." Brooklyn Eagle. 
 
 RED FOX 
 
 THE STORY OF His ADVENTUROUS CAREER IN THE RINGWAAK 
 WILDS, AND OF His FINAL TRIUMPH OVER THE ENEMIES OF 
 His KIND. With fifty illustrations, including frontispiece in 
 color and cover design by Charles Livingston Bull. 
 Square quarto, cloth decorative .... $2.00 
 
 " True in substance but fascinating as fiction. It will interest 
 old and young, city-bound and free-footed, those who know ani- 
 mals and those who do not." Chicago Record-Herald. 
 
 " A brilliant chapter in natural history." Philadelphia North 
 American. 
 
 THE KINDRED OF THE WILD 
 
 A BOOK OF ANIMAL LIFE. With fifty-one full-page plates and 
 many decorations from drawings by Charles Livingston Bull. 
 
 Square quarto, decorative cover $2.00 
 
 " Is in many ways the most brilliant collection of animal stories 
 that has appeared; well named and well done." John Bur- 
 roughs. 
 
 THE WATCHERS OF THE TRAILS 
 
 A companion volume to " The Kindred of the Wild." With 
 forty-eight full-page plates and many decorations from draw- 
 ings by Charles Livingston Bull. 
 Square quarto, decorative cover $2.00
 
 L. C. PAGE dr- COMPANY'S 
 
 " These stories are exquisite in their refinement, and yet robust 
 in their appreciation of some of the rougher phases of woodcraft . 
 Among the many writers about animals, Mr. Roberts occupies an 
 enviable place." The Outlook. 
 
 " This is a book full of delight. An additional charm lies in Mr. 
 Bull's faithful and graphic illustrations, which in fashion all their 
 own tell the story of the wild life, illuminating and supplementing 
 the pen pictures of the author." Literary Digest. 
 
 THE HOUSE IN THE WATER 
 
 With thirty full-page illustrations by Charles Livingston Bull 
 and Frank Vining Smith. Cover design and decorations by 
 Charles Livingston Bull. 
 
 12mo, cloth decorative $1.50 
 
 " Every paragraph is a splendid picture, suggesting in a few 
 
 words the appeal of the vast, illimitable wilderness." The 
 
 Chicago Tribune. 
 
 THE HEART THAT KNOWS 
 
 Library 12mo, cloth, decorative cover . . . $1.50 
 
 " A novel of singularly effective strength, luminous in literary 
 
 color, rich in its passionate, yet tender drama." New York Globe. 
 
 EARTH'S ENIGMAS 
 
 A new edition of Mr. Roberts's first volume of fiction, pub- 
 lished in 1892, and out of print for several years, with the addi- 
 tion of three new stories, and ten illustrations by Charles 
 Livingston Bull. 
 
 Library 12mo, cloth, decorative cover . . . . $1.50 
 " It will rank high among collections of short stories. In 
 ' Earth's Enigmas ' is a wider range of subject than in the ' Kin- 
 dred of the Wild.' " Review from advance sheets of the illustrated 
 edition by Tiffany Blake in the Chicago Evening Post. 
 
 BARBARA LADD 
 
 With four illustrations by Frank Verbeck. 
 Library 12mo, cloth, decorative cover . . . $1.50 
 
 " From the opening chapter to the final page Mr. Roberts lures 
 us on by his rapt devotion to the changing aspects of Nature and 
 by his keen and sympathetic analysis of human character." 
 Boston Transcript,
 
 LIST OF FICTION 
 
 CAMERON OF LOCHIEL 
 
 Translated from the French of Philippe Aubert de Gaspe", with 
 
 frontispiece in color by H. C. Edwards. 
 
 Library 12mo, cloth decorative $1.50 
 
 " Professor Roberts deserves the thanks of his reader for giving 
 a wider audience an opportunity to enjoy this striking bit of 
 French Canadian literature." Brooklyn Eagle. 
 
 " It is not often in these days of sensational and philosophical 
 novels that one picks up a book that so touches the heart." 
 Boston Transcript. 
 
 THE PRISONER OF MADEMOISELLE 
 
 With frontispiece by Frank T. Merrill. 
 
 Library 12mo, cloth decorative, gilt top . . . $1.50 
 
 A tale of Acadia, a land which is the author's heart's delight, 
 of a valiant young lieutenant and a winsome maiden, who first 
 captures and then captivates. 
 
 " This is the kind of a story that makes one grow younger, more 
 innocent, more light-hearted. Its*literary quality is impeccable. 
 It is not every day that such a heroine blossoms into even tempo- 
 rary existence, and the very name of the story bears a breath of 
 charm." Chicago Record-Herald. 
 
 THE HEART OF THE ANCIENT WOOD 
 
 With six illustrations by James L. Weston. 
 
 Library 12mo, decorative cover $1.50 
 
 " One of the most fascinating novels of recent days." Boston 
 Journal. 
 
 " A classic twentieth-century romance." New York Commer- 
 cial Advertiser. 
 
 THE FORGE IN THE FOREST 
 
 Being the Narrative of the Acadian Ranger, Jean de Mer, 
 Seigneur de Briart, and how he crossed the Black Abbe", and 
 of his adventures in a strange fellowship. Illustrated by Henry 
 Sandham, R. C. A. 
 
 Library 12mo, cloth, gilt top $1.50 
 
 A story of pure love and heroic adventure. 
 
 BY THE MARSHES OF MINAS 
 
 Library 12mo, cloth, gilt top, illustrated . . . $1.50 
 Most of these romances are in the author's lighter and more 
 
 playful vein; each is a unit of absorbing interest and exquisite 
 
 workmanship.
 
 L. C. PAGE & COMPANY'S 
 
 A SISTER TO EVANGELINE 
 
 Being the Story of Yvonne de Lamourie, and how she went into 
 exile with the villagers of Grand Pr6. 
 
 Library 12mo, cloth, gilt top, illustrated . . . $1.50 
 Swift action, fresh atmosphere, wholesome purity, deep pas- 
 sion, and searching analysis characterize this strong novel. 
 
 WORKS OF 
 
 LILIAN BELL 
 
 CAROLINA LEE 
 
 With a frontispiece in color from an oil painting by Dora 
 Wheeler Keith. Library 12mo, cloth, decorative cover. $1.50 
 " A Christian Science novel, full of action, alive with incident 
 
 and brisk with pithy dialogue and humor." Boston Transcript. 
 " A charming portrayal of the attractive life of the South, 
 
 refreshing as a breeze that blows through a pine forest." 
 
 Albany Times-Union. 
 
 HOPE LORING 
 
 Illustrated by Frank T. Merrill. 
 
 Library 12mo, cloth, decorative cover . . . SI .50 
 
 " Tall, slender, and athletic, fragile-looking, yet with nerves 
 and sinews of steel under the velvet flesh, frank as a boy and 
 tender and beautiful as a woman, free and independent, yet not 
 bold such is ' Hope Loring,' by long odds the subtlest study 
 that has yet been made of the American girl." Dorothy Dix, 
 in the New York American. 
 
 ABROAD WITH THE JIMMIES 
 
 With a portrait, in duogravure, of the author. 
 Library 12mo, cloth, decorative cover .... SI. 50 
 " Full of ozone, of snap, of ginger, of swing and momentum." 
 Chicago Evening Post. 
 
 AT HOME WITH THE JARDfflES 
 
 A companion volume to " Abroad with the Jimmies." 
 Library 12mo, cloth, decorative cover . . . $1.50 
 
 " Bits of gay humor, sunny, whimsical philosophy, and keen 
 indubitable insight into the less evident aspects and workings 
 of pure human nature, with a slender thread of a cleverly 
 extraneous love story, keep the interest of the reader fresh." 
 Chicago Record-Herald.
 
 LIST OF FICTION 
 
 THE INTERFERENCE OF PATRICIA 
 
 With a frontispiece from drawing by Frank T. Merrill. 
 
 Small 12mo, cloth, decorative cover .... $1.25 
 
 " There is life and action and brilliancy and dash and clever- 
 ness and a keen appreciation of business ways in this story." 
 Grand Rapids Herald. 
 
 " A story full of keen and flashing satire." Chicago Record- 
 Herald. 
 
 A BOOK OF GIRLS 
 
 With a frontispiece. 
 
 Small 12mo, cloth, decorative cover .... $1.25 
 
 " The stories are all eventful and have effective humor." 
 New York Sun. 
 
 " Lilian Bell surely understands girls, for she depicts all the 
 variations of girl nature so charmingly." Chicago Journal. 
 
 The above two volumes boxed in special holiday dress, per set, 
 $2.50. 
 
 WORKS OF 
 
 NATHAN GALLIZIER 
 
 THE SORCERESS OF ROME 
 
 With four drawings in color by " The Kinneys." 
 
 Cloth decorative, illustrated $1.50 
 
 The love-story of Otto III., the boy emperor, and Stephania, 
 wife of the Senator Crescentius of Rome, has already been made 
 the basis of various German poems and plays. 
 
 Mr. Gallizier has used it for the main theme of " The Sorceress 
 of Rome," the second book of his trilogy of romances on the 
 mediaeval life of Italy. In detail and finish the book is a brilliant 
 piece of work, describing clearly an exciting and strenuous 
 period. 
 
 CASTEL DEL MONTE 
 
 With six illustrations by H. C. Edwards. 
 
 Library 12mo, cloth decorative $1.50 
 
 A powerful romance of the fall of the Hohenstaufen dynasty in 
 Italy and the overthrow of Manfred by Charles of Anjou, the 
 champion of Pope Clement IV. 
 
 " There is color; there is sumptuous word painting in these 
 pages; the action is terrific at times; vividness and life are in 
 every part; and brilliant descriptions entertain the reader and 
 give a singular fascination to the tale." Chicago Record-Herald.
 
 L. C. PAGE & COMPANY'S 
 
 WORKS OF 
 
 MORLEY ROBERTS 
 
 RACHEL MARR 
 
 Library 12mo, cloth decorative $1.50 
 
 " A novel of tremendous force, with a style that is sure, 
 luxuriant, compelling, full of color and vital force." Elia W. 
 Peattie, in Chicago Tribune. 
 
 " In atmosphere, if nothing else, the story is absolutely per- 
 fect." Boston Transcript. 
 
 LADY PENELOPE 
 
 With nine illustrations by Arthur W. Brown. 
 
 Library 12mo, cloth decorative $1 .50 
 
 " A fresh and original bit of comedy as amusing as it is auda- 
 cious." Boston Transcript. 
 
 THE IDLERS 
 
 With frontispiece in color by John C. Frohn. 
 
 Library 12mo, cloth decorative $1.50 
 
 " It is as absorbing as the devil. Mr. Roberts gives us the 
 antithesis of ' Rachel Marr ' in an equally masterful and convin- 
 cing work." The New York Sun. 
 
 THE PROMOTION OF THE ADMIRAL 
 
 Library 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated . . . $1.50 
 
 " If any one writes better sea stories than Mr. Roberts, we 
 
 don't know who it is; and if there is a better sea story of its kind 
 
 than this it would be a joy to have the pleasure of reading it." 
 
 New York Sun. 
 
 THE FLYING CLOUD 
 
 Cloth decorative, with a colored frontispiece . . $1.50 
 When " The Flying Cloud " was published, the New York 
 Times Saturday Review said: " It is the drama of the sea: human 
 nature stripped naked by salt water alchemy and painted as 
 only the author or Joseph Conrad could paint it. ... A corking 
 story, a ripping good story! " 
 
 THE BLUE PETER 
 
 With frontispiece by Henry Roth. 
 
 Library 12mo, cloth decorative . . . $1.50 
 
 Again Morley Roberts has hoisted The Blue Peter, and sailing 
 orders aboard, has started on a prosperous voyage to the scenes 
 of his earliest popularity. 
 
 " It is not too much to say of Morley Roberts that he is one of 
 the very few writers of to-day who live up to the best traditions 
 of the sea story." The Bookman.
 
 LIST OF FICTION 
 
 WORKS OF 
 
 ALICE MacGOWAN AND GRACE Mac- 
 GOWAN COOKE 
 
 RETURN 
 
 A STORY OF THE SEA ISLANDS IN 1739. With six illustrations 
 
 by C. D. Williams. 
 
 Library 12mo, cloth $1.50 
 
 " So rich in color is this story, so crowded with figures, it seems 
 like a bit of old Italian wall painting, a piece of modern tapestry, 
 rather than a modern fabric woven deftly from the threads of fact 
 and fancy gathered up in this new and essentially practical 
 country, and therein lies its distinctive value and excellence." 
 N. Y. Sun. 
 
 THE GRAPPLE 
 
 With frontispiece in color by Arthur W. Brown. 
 
 Library 12mo, cloth decorative $1.50 
 
 " The movement of the tale is swift and dramatic. The story is 
 so original, so strong, and so finely told that it deserves a large 
 and thoughtful public. It is a book to read with both enjoyment 
 and enlightenment." N. Y. Times Saturday Review of Books. 
 
 THE LAST WORD 
 
 Illustrated with seven portraits of the heroine. 
 Library 12mo, cloth, decorative cover . . . $1.50 
 
 " When one receives full measure to overflowing of delight in a 
 tender, charming, and wholly fascinating new piece of fiction, the 
 enthusiasm is apt to come uppermost." Louisville Post. 
 
 HULDAH 
 
 With illustrations by Fanny Y. Cory. 
 
 Library 12mo, cloth decorative .... $1.50 
 
 Here we have the great-hearted, capable woman of the Texas 
 plains dispensing food and genial philosophy to rough-and-ready 
 cowboys. Her sympathy takes the form of happy laughter, and 
 her delightfully funny phrases amuse the fancy and stick in one's 
 memory. 
 
 WORKS OF OTHER AUTHORS 
 
 RICHARD ELLIOTT, FINANCIER 
 
 By GEORGE CARLING. 
 
 Library 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated . . . $1.50 
 
 " Clever in plot and effective in style. The author has seized 
 
 on some of the most sensational features of modern finance and 
 
 uses them pretty much as Alexandre Dumas did." A r . Y. Post.
 
 10 L. C. PAGE <Sr COMPANY'S 
 
 ANNE OF GREEN GABLES 
 
 By L. M. MONTGOMERY. Illustrated by M. A. and W. A. 
 
 J. Glaus. 12mo ... .... $1.50 
 
 " Anne of Green Gables " is beyond question the most popular 
 girl heroine in recent years. Poets, statesmen, humorists, critics, 
 and the great public have lost their hearts to the charming Anne. 
 ' Anne of Green Gables " is not a book of a season, to attain a 
 wide popularity for a brief space and sink into oblivion with many 
 another " best seller," but its literary merit is such that it is 
 bound to have a permanent place in literature and continue to 
 increase in popularity with each succeeding season. 
 
 " In ' Anne of Green Gables ' you will find the dearest and most 
 moving and delightful child since the immortal Alice." Mark 
 Twain in a letter to Francis Wilson. 
 
 " I can hardly tell you how much I enjoyed the book, and I can 
 heartily recommend it to my friends wno are not ashamed when 
 from time to time they find the eyes suffuse and the page grow 
 blurred at the pathos of the story." Sir Louis H. Dairies of the 
 Supreme Court of Canada. 
 
 I take it as a great test of the worth of the book that while the 
 young people are rummaging all over the house looking for Anne, 
 the head of the family has carried her off to read on his way to 
 town." Bliss Carman. 
 
 THE CALL OF THE SOUTH 
 
 By ROBERT LEE DURHAM. 
 
 Cloth decorative, illustrated by Henry Roth . . $1.50 
 
 An absorbing and intensely realistic story dealing with the race 
 problem in this country. 
 
 " ' A terrific story but a true one ' this is what the thinking 
 world is saying concerning ' The Call of the South.' " The 
 Baltimore Sun. 
 
 " The force of the book is tremendous. In dramatic power it 
 equals Tolstoi's ' Resurrection.' " Rev. Martin D. Hardin, 
 Pastor Third Presbyterian Church, Chicago. 
 
 " The speech of Rutledge before the Senate is splendid. By 
 itself it is one of the best arguments against social equality that 
 has ever been printed. If not already done, it should be printed 
 in a pamphlet by itself and given world-wide distribution." 
 The Louisville Courier- Journal. 
 
 " ' The Call of the South ' is a great book.' In it Mr. Durham 
 holds the mirror of future possible events up to us in a fascinating, 
 dramatic form. The plot of the story would alone be sufficient 
 to insure its success." Birmingham Age-Herald.