"It's all very well for your lordship to laugh," said Will, an hour later, after we had been served with an excellent meal, washed down by delicious wine, at the Governor's cabin table, "but had you been busy with other matters to-night, we would have been comfortably buoyed in the mud at the bottom of the river."

"He is an uncommon rascal, that Cahill," laughed Dunmore, "but, my dear Byrd, you should not take arms against His Majesty's Governor, even in fun. Ha! ha! It would have been droll, 'pon my word, ha! ha! May the Lord roast me if it would not have been a joke to have seen you three gentlemen buoyed in this most muddy stream. It is a revelation, Byrd, a revelation, sir, from Providence. A sign of the times and an omen for you to take advantage of without delay. It is an insight into the future and should hurry you to take up arms in His Majesty's just cause. Think of it, if it had not been for his Majesty, the King—as represented by myself—you would have been at the bottom of the river to-night to remain there, perhaps, through all eternity; for I take it that the angel Gabriel would have to blow a mighty blast to lift you out of this most sticky Virginia soil."

"But if it hadn't been for His Majesty, the King, as represented by that truculent skipper on the schooner over there, we might now be dining in the charming company of Miss Judkins and Miss Carter, to say nothing of the mistress of Judkins Hall," said Barron, smiling at Dunmore with a beaming face.

"And have lost the honor of dining with his excellency, the Governor," I put in hurriedly, for I thought I perceived an uncomfortable look gather on his lordship's countenance. The two officers present, Captains Foy and Graham, also began to look a trifle annoyed.

"But where are we, anyhow, Lord Dunmore?" asked Will. "Your excellency has rescued us, true enough, and made the matter all the better by adding this splendid dinner, but whereabouts on the river are we?"

"As near as I can judge, we are about twenty miles above Westover. Hey! Captain Foy? Isn't that about the reckoning?" replied Dunmore. "And if we have good luck and little fighting, we shall be through our business in this part of the river and on our way down stream before this time to-morrow evening. There is very little to do after all. Graham, here, and Fordyce of the Hound had some little difficulty yesterday with a small party of rebels, but they were all shot or dispersed except the leaders, who were keel-hauled by Captain Fordyce. He and Cahill are very able men in their line of work and their vessels are well adapted for these inland waters. But it is a very malodorous business and the sooner we get clear of these unhealthy swamp vapors, and get a sniff of salt air, the better. I hope, Foy, you will see that plenty of sulphur is burned aboard to-night."

"Can we be landed to-night?" I asked.

"Yes," said Will, "can we get ashore? They will expect us at the Hall and will be much troubled if we don't get back before bedtime."

"I don't see how it can be done, do you Foy?" said Dunmore. "We had an exchange of shots with the shore, as you may have noticed from the schooner, just before coming to anchor, and I would hardly think it wise to send a boat in there at this time of night. You wouldn't care to land there this evening, would you, Graham?"

"No, your excellency, it would hardly be safe," replied that officer.

"Besides," continued Dunmore, "Fordyce stopped at Harrison's to take him and his party aboard the Hound, and from Fordyce's description of your affair on the beach with Cahill's men, they will probably be satisfied that you are in safe keeping for the night. Harrison was in a hurry to get to Norfolk, as he expected to sail for England soon,—so his note said—and I gave Fordyce orders to end his patrol there and start back immediately. He will go down on the morning tide and meet us below in a day or two. Cahill, and some of those small craft astern of us can finish up the work here and above us."

"Then we shall have to spend the night aboard?" I inquired.

"I am sorry to force my hospitality upon you, gentlemen," said Dunmore, "but I see no other way out of it. Anyhow, I take it for granted you would have joined us to-morrow, in the interest of the King, so the hardships will not be so very great. However, if you would rather go back aboard the Black Eagle and spend the evening with Captain Cahill, you may do so. Shall I call away the boat?" And as he said this his eyes twinkled with some little amusement.

"Give yourself no more trouble on my account, your excellency," said Barron, "I am, as you know, an old soldier and have no relatives to speak of. I find myself just as much at home in a strange bed, be it ever so comfortable, as in any other."

"Not a bad idea, Captain," answered Dunmore, "not a bad idea, sir; but before we think of turning in, Captain Foy and Graham here would not be adverse to opening a bottle or two more with you. Steward! You may clear the table and bring some of that stuff captured yesterday. It may strike you as strange, gentlemen," he continued, "but that beggar who lives near Jamestown keeps most remarkable liquor. May the Lord pickle me, if it isn't equal to any I have ever tasted at home."

"And a most remarkable man he was, too," put in Captain Foy.

"He did show more or less nerve of a peculiar order," said Graham.

"How was that?" asked Will.

"Well, you see," said Captain Graham, "we went ashore on the island to reconnoitre, as we had heard of the large gathering at Williamsburg. The first thing that greeted us on landing was a couple of rifle shots. These appeared to come from the bushes near Jacquelin's house, and one of them struck poor Billings in the pit of the stomach and passed through him, poor fellow. We finally made a landing a little farther up stream, where there was more cover, and the first thing we encountered on getting ashore was a motely crowd of farmers, armed and ready to fight us. There was one fellow, I believe they called him 'Bullet,' who is a fierce rebel, and another mounted on a powerful bay mare, who rode with his left arm in a sling and had a strangely attired negro servant to carry a couple of rifles for him. These were the only dangerous men in the crowd, for the rest had no organization and appeared to obey no commander, so they quickly broke and fled at the first fire. Four of them remained, however, and these two I have just described were the ones who cut their way through our men with their swords and escaped. The other two were captured, for they refused either to run or cease fighting. One was Jacquelin, who owns the house, and the other a man named Horn. Fordyce was coming up just then and I turned them over to him. He tried to get some information about Mr. Henry's mob out of both of them. Jacquelin had his fingers punched with a belt punch without so much as saying a word, and the fellow, Horn, was seated on a hot stove until the breeches and skin were burnt off his buttocks, but all he did during that time was to curse His Majesty most heartily. Fordyce started to keel-haul him, and had the line made fast to his hands passed under the schooner's bottom, but somehow the line fouled just as he was drawn under the bilge, and by the time they cleared it and pulled him aboard again he was as dead as a mackerel. After Jacquelin had his turn, he offered to lead us to Williamsburg, or anywhere else we wished to go, and the beggar told a yarn about some good wine in his cellar the men had failed to find. We stopped at his house again, and four of us went with him to find the stuff. He did have a door we had overlooked and he showed it to us. The cellar was full of this stuff you see before you, and while we stood at the entrance admiring the flasks the rascal shoved all four suddenly inside the door and banged it to and locked it. Then he started across the island like a scared rabbit. That's the last anyone saw of him, for, as usual in such cases, by the time the men heard us and saw what had happened, he was too far off to hit and there wasn't a man there who shot within a fathom of him."

"That must have been a very interesting affair," said Will, somewhat coldly, "but if you are through I would like to go to bed. I am a little fatigued from the day's excitement. No thanks! I do not care for any more wine. I hope your excellency will excuse me." And he rose from his chair.

Lord Dunmore looked sharply at Byrd, and appeared a trifle annoyed, but he said nothing.

It was easy to see that Will's sentiments were not exactly in accord with our hosts, and that a strained relationship would exist between them if something were not done quickly. It was evident that Lord Dunmore expected us to accompany him as loyal subjects on the morrow, and I knew it would need some keen acting on our part to enable us to avoid giving up our residence at the Hall and becoming refugees for an indefinite period. My heart was anything but light when I thought of Harrison,—with the ruffian Fordyce to back him,—having things his own way down the river. But as I only thought of Berk as a misguided gentleman, a little over-zealous in his duty to the King, the only trouble I anticipated was some obstacle I felt he would place in our way when he found we wished to remain at home. At all events, I knew I must not antagonize Dunmore, or he would fail to put us ashore the next day as we hoped he would. Therefore I reached for poor Jacquelin's wine and drank his excellency's health, and Barron needed no urging to follow my example.

Will remained standing until I explained that he was suffering from the shock of the discharge from Cahill's pivot-gun, whereupon the Governor was much amused and laughed immoderately as I described how the ball covered us with sand and gravel. Then we finished the bottle, and after bidding his excellency good night, the steward ushered us into the officers' cabin where a state-room had been made ready for us.

As soon as we were left alone, Will burst forth into a perfect torrent of abuse against Dunmore and his underlings. Barron and I tried to stop him lest some one should hear the noise, but it was only after he had called them every villainous name he could think of that he at last consented to keep quiet. As for myself, I have said before that the Judkins family were not of a nervous or excitable disposition, and are not carried away by wild and insane thoughts of mistaken patriotism, but I had decided that evening that the King would soon have another enemy of my acquaintance. By the present state of the feelings of both Barron and Byrd, I thought it highly probable that there would be several more.

Will finally turned in and I did likewise, for we were very tired. Barron sat a long time apparently lost in thought, holding his half-removed boot in his hands. Then he spoke.

"Poor Horn," he muttered, "I owed him for two gallons of gin." And then he undressed and turned in without another word.