in her father; how much
more, then, shall lover go with lover, the faithful wife with the
all-conquering husband! She shall be there to buckle on our armour, to
heal us with her kiss when the long day's work is over!" He bent his
brow upon his arm. "O God, O God!"

From the hall without there sounded a clear whistle, and Fairfax Cary
appeared in the library door. "Are you there, Ludwell? It's all dark in
here after the sun outside. I am going to town."

The elder brother left the window. "Wait a little, Fair. I want to talk
to you. Do you remember the night of the nineteenth of February?"

"Yes," said the other. "It had been snowing, and then it cleared
brilliantly. I went to the Mayos, and I stopped by Bowler's Tavern. It
was the night that Aaron Burr slept in Richmond. I told you, you know,
that he was supping out."

"Yes. With Lewis Rand."

There was a silence, then, "So!" exclaimed Fairfax Cary, with a long
whistle.

"You are not surprised?"

"No. It explains."

"Yes," assented the other sombrely, "it explains. Fair, I want to find
out when Adam Gaudylock goes West."

"Gaudylock!" cried the other; then after a moment, "Well, I'm not
surprised at that, either. I can tell you now when he's going. In two
weeks' time."

"How do you know?"

"Unity sent a message about some work or other to Tom Mocket's sister
Vinie. I gave the message, and the girl fell to talking about Adam. She
was wearing a Spanish comb which he had brought her. I told her 't was
pretty, and she said 'Yes: 'twas from New Orleans, and if Miss Unity
would like one, Mr. Adam was going there again in two weeks.'"

"Two weeks!" brooded the other. "Fair, would you not say from every
appearance that Lewis Rand is as fixed in Albemarle and in Virginia as
you or I or any honest man? He improves Roselands; he has an important
case coming on; it is supposed that in November he will return to
Richmond. I happen to know that he has retaken the house on Shockoe
Hill." He moved restlessly. "Why should I dream that he is preparing a
moonlight flitting? dream that I see him in the gold southwest, treading
his appointed road, triumphant there as here? A moonlight flitting! When
he goes, he'll go by day--walk forth in bronze and purple, unconcerned
and confident, high and bold as any Caesar! From what egg did he spring
that he can play the traitor and the parricide--and yet, and yet the
rose bend to his hand? Does it look, Fair, as though he were in marc