Pendleton's Inn, as you may remember, was a famous place in its time. Colonel George Washington often stopped there, and Mr. Patrick Henry often held a group of listeners spellbound with his peculiar eloquence on its wide verandah.

So proud was the proprietor of his distinguished guests, that the bed Colonel Washington usually slept in, and even a certain chair at the head of the dining room table, in which it was claimed he generally sat, have been preserved and pointed out to new-comers as objects of peculiar interest. As for me, I have been to hardly a single house between New York and Richmond that has not boasted of possessing some of the Washington furniture, and I have been somewhat sociable in my habits.

Pendleton himself was a sad rake. But his hospitality was known to the young men for miles around, and his house was often used as a meeting place on Sunday afternoons, when the gentlemen would indulge themselves in such exciting sports as cock-fighting and rat killing. Sometimes affrays of a more sanguinary nature occurred within the limits of its broad orchard, but these happened seldom, and, on the whole, the Inn was considered respectable enough for any lady in the commonwealth.

"I could not have stood it much longer, my dear Richard," said my mother, the morning after our arrival. "I am too old for such scenes as that which happened at the Hall. I have not slept since Mary was taken away, and I have not had my bath for two days. All the servants ran away from that odious Captain and his terrible men. The only ones I have with me here are old Mammy Liza and Mary Jane Johnson. They were so old the men took no notice of them, so they hobbled all the way over here to me. But they cannot do anything, let alone fix my bath. And poor Rose, she has been so quiet. Not a word has passed her lips and she walks to and fro in her room with her head held tightly in her hands. The shock to her young nerves at seeing such revelry has completely unstrung her. Mammy Liza said she had delirium last night, for she heard Rose scream 'villain' and 'scoundrel' at the top of her voice, and when she looked into her room she was sitting in bed with her hands clenched and her eyes staring into vacancy."

"I suppose she will not breakfast with us, then," I said.

"I doubt it, but when I tell her you and Captain Barron are to take us to Williamsburg, she may make her appearance in time. You will not leave before we get some news of Will and Lord Dunmore, will you?"

"Possibly not," I answered, "but it is hardly worth while to stay here. It is not likely the Governor will send a party this far inland after us, and as for Will, he will have no message of importance, even if he has a chance to send one. The Governor is in a hurry to get out of the river, for the climate does not agree with him. He is probably now as far down as Jamestown on his way out."

While I was speaking, Barron made his appearance, accompanied by old Pendleton and half a score of armed men who had camped in the barn over night. These militiamen were on their way to join the forces under Colonel Henry, and they were armed and dressed in the most fantastic manner. They had just visited our prisoner, the Corporal, who was confined in a box-stall in the stable, and were in high good humor at the soldier's fierce threats and wild vaporings. Barron left these men on the far end of the verandah and came up and saluted my mother.

"I shall wait upon you, madam," he said, "just as soon as I ride over to my lodgings at the Widow Brown's house and attend to some little private matters there. It is not likely I will be back this way before next year, and I reckon I had better tell my landlady so. I think, however, that the Governor has made his last trip up the river, and, if that is the case, you can soon go back and remain unmolested at the Hall. But here comes our host, and he looks as if he had some matters of importance to communicate."

"Matam ees sarved wid her bickfust," spoke up old Pendleton, giving my mother a sweeping bow as he approached.

"In that case we will all go in together and fortify ourselves for the coming ride," I said, and I led the way to the table with my mother on my arm. We no sooner sat down than Miss Carter made her appearance. It was so late the night before when we arrived that I had not had a chance for more than a word of greeting with her, so she received Barron and myself very graciously.

In spite of her pleasant manner, I noticed the large blue eyes—I had seen only to admire so often before—were swollen and red, and the poor girl appeared to have suffered much. A man must be very selfish when in love, for it was quite plain to me that she was suffering more than I, yet I would not have had Harrison back there at that moment, had I been certain of his conventional behavior with my sister Mary. There is no use of denying it, I felt almost glad that he had run off with my sister. I was sure Mary loved him, and I reasoned that no harm could happen to her. I was equally certain Byrd would soon reappear with the news that she and Harrison were happily married. I was furious to see this beautiful woman breaking her heart for another, but was glad that his act was irrevocable and left the field clear for myself.

Barron waxed especially lively during the meal and ordered some of Pendleton's new cider, suggesting that Miss Carter and my mother drink some to refresh themselves for lack of sleep.

"It is weak enough, I reckon," said he, "for I call to mind the time Bullbeggor and I stopped here last year. His nigger, Snake in the Grass, had never seen this stuff, for the Major sticks pretty well to stronger waters. One cold night I gave the rascal a bottle filled with the stuff and told him to be careful with it, as it was very good. He sneaked off after supper into the woods and the Major couldn't find him again that evening. About midnight, while we sat smoking and talking, we heard a knock at the door. I went into the entry and opened it, and there was Snake, shivering and shaking with cold. 'What's the matter, Snake?' I asked, when I got him inside. 'Oh, Marse Barron, yo' dun me mean,' he said, 'I went outen the woods to drink dat stuff on de quiet, an' I dun set thar fo' hours waitin fo' de drunk tu come—an' I'se nearly froze. Yessah, yo' dun me mean, suh; sho' nuff mean, an' I'se nearly froze.'"

"Major Bull, he stopped here de oder day wid his nigger," added Pendleton.

"How about his shoulder, was it paining him much?" I asked.

"His shoulder! Nien it was a leedle hole, de pain shooded all through him. He has dem shooding pains always shooding through him. Dey was only leedle pains. Mein Gott! I never see de Major, but wid a leedle shooding pain."

"Then he went on and joined the militia at Williamsburg as he intended?" asked Miss Rose.

"Not only that," I put in, "but it was he who did some little fighting with that Captain Fordyce in the little skirmish below here the other day."

"And perhaps that is why the Captain acted as he did at the Hall. People are usually judged by the company they keep, and they all had heard of the duel," said Miss Rose, with a little sting of resentment in her voice.

"If that be really so, people's judgments are most unjust, for a man certainly cannot always choose his own companions," I replied.

"I think he can," she answered.

"God grant that it be even so," I said, quietly, and I caught her eye for an instant.

Barron was laughing and looking at my mother, but Miss Carter appeared to take no notice of him and continued to eat her egg with more ill tempter than appetite.

When we were through the meal, Barron rode over to his lodgings and then returned within an hour. After that we had the horses brought up, and he and I acted as outriders to my mother and Miss Carter, who rode in Pendleton's chaise with old Mammy Liza and Mary Jane on the rear seat. One of my field hands, who came over to the Inn, acted as driver. Pendleton was to collect the rest of my people and take care of them until my mother was ready to return to the Hall.

We started off with a contingent of the militia bringing up behind us as a rear guard, and among them walked the Corporal with his belt strapped about his elbows behind him.

It was something uncommon in the way of a procession, as we rode slowly down the old Virginia turnpike. Barron, sitting his horse in an easy, soldierly fashion, riding on one side of the carriage, and I riding on the other, while the motley men with muskets and squirrel rifles, having the English corporal in their midst, came straggling along through our thick yellow dust-cloud in the rear. The sun shone brightly and the birds sang merrily in the fields and woodlands, so our spirits rose, and even Miss Carter began to smile at Barron's jests.

The long, heavy sword I captured from the Corporal jangled uncomfortably from my belt, and it, together with my two silver mounted pistols, which I now carried in full view, gave me a most warlike appearance. But my clothing was of the latest fashion, and even my shoes showed the marks of care my poor boy Sam had bestowed upon them. But if I attracted some attention from the neighboring farmers, I hardly know what amount of interest was excited by the looks of our strange followers.

Some of these had their hair long and matted, hanging down over blouses or hunting shirts of deer skin, giving them an almost wild look. Their long rifles had the old fashioned heavy flint and wide primer and were of small calibre, best fitted for hunting squirrels and such game. But their powder horns held enough ammunition for a campaign, and they were all tolerable shots. Those who carried muskets appeared perfectly contented that their weapons made a loud noise and asked for nothing better than a range at which it would be almost impossible to miss an enemy—or hit a friend. Some carried old swords of the most unusual patterns,—looking as though they might have once done good duty as scythes,—and all carried knives. A young clown, from one of the upper counties, carried a musket with fixed bayonet and had the impudence to try and force the Corporal to put him through the manual of arms, even threatening to blow the soldier's head off if he gave an improper order. All of them were entirely without discipline, and all gave orders and offered suggestions at one and the same time. This, of course, invariably ended in a dispute that had to be settled by long arguments, in which all who wished to took part. Several times, during their bickerings, they fell far behind us, only to catch up again later on, and all day long their hilarious songs, accompanied by frequent fusilades of rifle shots, kept us in excellent knowledge of their whereabouts.

At noon we passed Doncastle's ordinary, where the affair of the gunpowder brought about the first distinct rupture between Lord Dunmore and the people. Everything appeared quiet and peaceful and the place showed no signs of war.

We had little conversation on the ride, and I found myself thinking a great deal of my poor boy Sam and Will Byrd. Will, I felt sure, would take care of the wounded fellow and endeavor to prevent him from falling into other hands, and I believed Sam would soon get over his hurt, for he was a powerful nigger, broad-built and with good pluck. I tried to imagine what would happen to Harrison if Sam ever met him before matters were peacefully settled. But then I knew that Harrison would not return to his plantation until the war was over, and I believed it would be a long time before peace reigned again in the colonies.

At intervals during the ride I came close to the carriage and endeavored to engage Miss Carter's attention, but she appeared so sad and listless that, out of sheer pity, I forbore to worry her with my presence. Once I thought I noticed her looking at me intently with a curious, searching expression in her eyes for some moments, but when I turned my gaze in her direction she immediately stared vacantly at the scenery ahead.

I told my mother of my intention of joining the forces under Mr. Henry, and strange to say she did not appear to be either surprised or disappointed. On the contrary, she began instantly to give me all manner of advice about taking care of myself when camping in the field, and above all implored me never to expose myself to the danger of getting shot.

"It is absurd," said she, "that a gentleman should expose himself to the hurts which belong to the common, vulgar soldier. A true general always takes care of himself, for with him rests the care of the whole army. Should anything happen to the officer in command, what, oh what would become of those poor fellows dependent upon him for his high courage and intelligence? They would certainly be lost, and it is for them, my dear Richard, you should sacrifice all brute feelings of ferocious courage and keep yourself in hand."

Barron agreed with her in her sentiments, and she made him promise faithfully that he would never leave my side in the hour of danger, and never allow me to be carried away by my youthful ardor; all of which he did with a grave countenance, and some little ceremony, in spite of a little frivolity on my part.

In the late afternoon we caught sight of the white tents of the militia, and soon afterwards we were entering the quaint old town of Williamsburg. We headed for my uncle's house, which stood near the college, in the best part of the town, for my uncle's wife, Aunt Jane, as I called her, was a person of some prominence, and was of the ancient family of O'Brian, which, as you know, was once royal.

The streets were full of men from the surrounding country, who gathered in groups as we passed, and pointed at us and stared as though we were something remarkable. But they were all rough men, who had never seen much, and belonged to the outlying settlements and farms where no gentleman ever gets, except by hunting or some mishap. The men who appeared to be soldiers wore no regular uniform, and might have passed for a lot of armed yokels starting out on a coon hunt.

As we drew near our destination we heard the sound of galloping horses, and presently several mounted men came riding around the corner ahead of us.

I recognized Patrick Henry and Colonel Woodford at a glance. The former had made himself a colonel of militia and rode a powerful grey horse at the front of the groups, while on either hand rode Colonel Woodford and Colonel Bullet. Behind them came several other gentlemen, well known along the James river for their anti-British politics. Among them I recognized Major Bullbeggor and also Mr. Jacquelin, who had been captured by Fordyce, and who had escaped from his captors by running while they were suddenly confined in his wine cellar. Still farther in the rear rode some mounted servants, with Snake in the Grass in their midst.

The Major saluted with a flourish as he rode past, as did the rest of the officers, and Snake's hat continued to rise and fall while his nodding, grinning face was turned towards us until the cavalcade disappeared in the direction of the encampment behind the college.

On arriving at our destination, we received a warm welcome from my aunt Jane and cousin Marion. Although my uncle, Thomas Burns, Esq., had died some years before, my aunt and cousin were living in the most comfortable circumstances. While they lived simply in their large mansion, they had an abundance of home comforts and many house servants, and cousin Marion, though only sixteen, was considered one of the wealthiest as well as prettiest women in Virginia. Aunt Jane was well known for her kind acts of charity and hospitality, so you may be sure there was nothing lacking for our comfort on our arrival at her house.

In spite of this Barron and I were all eagerness to go to the camp and report to Colonel Henry—as we now heard him called—for duty. Even the prospect of a few hours alone with Miss Carter and my pretty cousin Marion, was not enough to curb my impatience to be among the men, who I now felt certain would make some history to be handed down through all time.

I know Marion laughed at my warlike appearance, but I changed that a little by fixing my pistols under my coat and hitching up my heavy broadsword until it cocked up as prettily behind as a rapier. In this attire I bade my pretty cousin good-bye, with cousinly privilege, and bowed low to Miss Carter. Then Barron and I mounted our horses and rode off with Marion's laugh ringing after us. She was a very pretty girl and as good as ever lived, but I thought very little about her as we rode down the main street in the direction of Colonel Henry's headquarters.