treason, with the penalty of an ignominious death suspended like a sword of Damocles.  The little world in Richmond felt the subsidence of excitement, realized how warm and dusty was the town, and began to think of its plantations and of country business.  Witnesses and visitors of note took the homeward road.  The Swan, the Eagle, the Bell, the Indian Queen, crowded all the summer, saw their patrons depart by stage, by boat, in coach and chaise, and on horseback.  Many private houses were closed, and the quiet of the doldrums fell upon the place.

Jacqueline and Unity had been ten days in Albemarle.  The two Carys, a servant behind them with their portmanteaus, rode away from the Swan on the first day of September.  It was understood between the brothers that they were to make all haste to Greenwood.  But there were houses on the way where kinsmen and friends might be trusted to do what they could to detain the two.  Both were anxious to be at home—­Fairfax the more eager, as was natural.  The marriage was set for the middle of the month.  As they rode out of town he had begun with, “I’ll see her in four days,” and the next morning, passing through the gates of the plantation where they had slept, he had irrelevantly remarked, “Now it is but three.”  The elder brother laughed and wished him Houssain’s carpet.

Throughout the day they rode as rapidly as the heat permitted, but when at dusk they were captured by a kinsman with a charming wife and a bevy of pretty daughters, it was evident that they would not resume the road at dawn.  It was noon, indeed, before they unclasped all these tendrils and pursued their journey, and at sunset another plantation put out a detaining hand.  Fairfax Cary swore with impatience.  The other laughed again, but when, late next morning, they got away with a message called to them from the porch, “You’ll be at Elm Tree this afternoon.  Tell Cousin William—­” he looked kindly at his junior’s vexed face and proposed a division of forces.

“We can’t neglect Elm Tree, and then there’s Cherry Hill and Malplaquet still before us.  Why shouldn’t you just speak to them at Elm Tree, then ride on to the inn at Deer Lick and sleep there to-night?  You could start with the first light, ride around Cherry Hill, and give Malplaquet the slip.  I’ll make your excuses everywhere.  It’s hard if a man can’t be forgiven something—­when he’s on the eve of marrying Unity Dandridge!  You’ll be at Greenwood to-morrow night, and I dare say they’ll ask you to breakfast at Fontenoy.  Come, there’s a solution!”

“You’re the best fellow!  And what will you do?”

“I’ll sleep to-night at Elm Tree and ride soberly on to-morrow, take dinner at Cherry Hill, and sleep again at Malplaquet.  They’ll all be disappointed at not seeing the prospective bridegroom, but I’ll make them understand that a man in love can’t travel like a tortoise!  I’ll ride from Malplaquet by the river road and be at home that afternoon.  You had better take Eli with you.”