MacLean rose to his feet, and stood gazing across the river at the
twilight shore and the clear skies. Presently he turned, and his eyes were
wet. He drew his hand across them; then looked curiously at the dew upon
it. "I have not done this," he said simply, "since a night at Preston when
I wept with rage. In my country we love as we hate, with all the strength
that God has given us. The brother of my spirit is to me even as the
brother of my flesh.... I used to dream that my hand was at your throat or
my sword through your heart, and wake in anger that it was not so ... and
now I could love you well."
Haward stood up, and the two men clasped hands. "It is a pact, then," said
the Englishman. "By my faith, the world looks not so melancholy gray as it
did awhile ago. And here is Juba to say that supper waits. Lay the table
for two, Juba. Mr. MacLean will bear me company."
The storekeeper stayed late, the master of Fair View being an accomplished
gentleman, a very good talker, and an adept at turning his house for the
nonce into the house of his guest. Supper over they went into the library,
where their wine was set, and where the Highlander, who was no great
reader, gazed respectfully at the wit and wisdom arow before him. "Colonel
Byrd hath more volumes at Westover," quoth Haward, "but mine are of the
choicer quality." Juba brought a card table, and lit more candles, while
his master, unlocking a desk, took from it a number of gold pieces. These
he divided into two equal portions: kept one beside him upon the polished
table, and, with a fine smile, half humorous, half deprecating, pushed the
other across to his guest. With an, imperturbable face MacLean stacked the
gold before him, and they fell to piquet, playing briskly, and with
occasional application to the Madeira upon the larger table, until ten of
the clock. The Highlander, then declaring that he must be no longer away
from his post, swept his heap of coins across to swell his opponent's
store, and said good-night. Haward went with him to the great door, and
watched him stride off through the darkness whistling "The Battle of
Harlaw."
That night Haward slept, and the next morning four negroes rowed him up
the river to Jamestown. Mr. Jaquelin was gone to Norfolk upon business,
but his beautiful wife and sprightly daughters found Mr. Marmaduke Haward
altogether charming. "'Twas as good as going to court," they said to one
another, when the gentleman, after a two hours' visit, bowed himself out
of their drawing-room. The object of their encomiums, going down river in
his barge, felt his spirits lighter than they had been for some days. He
spoke cheerfully to his negroes, and when the barge passed a couple of
fishing-boats he called to the slim brown lads that caught for the
plantation to know their luck. At the landing he found the overseer, who
walked to the great house with him.