voce_ matter, and each man knew his
fellow's creed.

Lewis Rand sat at ease, a tall and personable man, with the head of a
victor, and a face that had the charm of strength. The eye was keen and
dark, the jaw square, the thick brown hair cut short, as was the
Republican fashion. His dress was plain but good, worn with a certain
sober effect, an "it pleases me," that rendered silk and fine ruffles
superfluous. He was listening to a wide-girthed tavern-keeper and old
soldier of the Revolution's loud declaration that Lewis Rand was the
coming man, and that he was for Lewis Rand. The old county wanted no
English-thinking young Federalist in Richmond. "Too many Federalists
there a'ready! Mr. Lewis Rand, Mr. Sheriff!"

The Republicans applauded. The custom of the time required that the man
voted for should thank the man who voted, and that aloud and aptly, with
no slurring acknowledgment of service. Lewis Rand, a born speaker and
familiar with his audience, was at no loss. "I thank you, Mr. Fagg! May
your shadow never grow less! The old county--Mr. Jefferson's county,
gentlemen--may be trusted to hold its own, in Richmond or in Washington,
in Heaven or in Hell! Mr. Fagg, I will drink your health in punch of the
Eagle's brewing! Your very obliged friend and servant!"

From street and yard without came a noise of cheering, with cries of
"Black Cockade! Black Cockade! The party of Washington--Washington
forever!--The old county for Cary!--Albemarle for Cary!--The county for
a _gentleman!_"

"Mr. Ludwell Cary has arrived," announced the sheriff.

"Here comes the gentleman!" cried a man from a windowsill. "Stand up,
Lewis Rand, and show him a man!"

The throng at the door parted, and with a Federalist and distinguished
following the two Carys entered, the elder quiet and smiling, the
younger flushed, bright-eyed, and anxious. The attachment between these
two brothers was very strong; it was to be seen in every glance that
passed between them, in every tone of voice used by each to the other.
The elder played fond Mentor, and the younger thought his brother a
demi-god. They were men of an old name, an old place, an inherited
charm. "Ludwell Cary!" cried a mail. "Long live Ludwell Cary!"

Rand left the Justice's Bench, stepped forward, and greeted his
opponent. The two touched hands. "I trust I see you in health, Mr.
Cary?"

"Mr. Rand, I thank you, I am very well. You are early in the lists!"

"I am accustomed to early r