go, and there are those besides Rolfe who have been to London."

For a moment the laughter died from her eyes and lips, but it returned.
"Let them talk," she said. "What care I? And I do not think your ship
captains, your traders and adventurers, do often dine with my lord
bishop. This barbarous forest world and another world that I wot of are
so far apart that the inhabitants of the one do not trouble those of the
other. In that petty village down there I am safe enough. Besides, sir,
you wear a sword."

"My sword is ever at your service, madam."

"Then I may go to Jamestown?"

"If you will it so."

With her bright eyes upon me, and with one hand softly striking a rose
against her laughing lips, she extended the other hand.

"You may kiss it, if you wish, sir," she said demurely.

I knelt and kissed the white fingers, and four days later we went to
Jamestown.

CHAPTER VI IN WHICH WE GO TO JAMESTOWN

IT was early morning when we set out on horseback for Jamestown. I rode
in front, with Mistress Percy upon a pillion behind me, and Diccon on
the brown mare brought up the rear. The negress and the mails I had sent
by boat.

Now, a ride through the green wood with a noble horse beneath you, and
around you the freshness of the morn, is pleasant enough. Each twig had
its row of diamonds, and the wet leaves that we pushed aside spilled
gems upon us. The horses set their hoofs daintily upon fern and moss
and lush grass. In the purple distances deer stood at gaze, the air rang
with innumerable bird notes, clear and sweet, squirrels chattered, bees
hummed, and through the thick leafy roof of the forest the sun showered
gold dust. And Mistress Jocelyn Percy was as merry as the morning. It
was now fourteen days since she and I had first met, and in that time
I had found in her thrice that number of moods. She could be as gay and
sweet as the morning, as dark and vengeful as the storms that came up of
afternoons, pensive as the twilight, stately as the night,--in her there
met a hundred minds. Also she could be childishly frank--and tell you
nothing.

To-day she chose to be gracious. Ten times in an hour Diccon was off
his horse to pluck this or that flower that her white forefinger pointed
out. She wove the blooms into a chaplet, and placed it upon her head;
she filled her lap with trailers of the vine that swayed against us, and
stained her fingers and lips with the berries Diccon brought her; she
laughed at t