"I hold my patent for service done," the captain answered grandiloquently, "which noe newe or late comers can meritt or challenge," and only with the greatest difficulty was he finally persuaded to surrender his high authority. In that day the house was built of wood, protected by a palisade, prescribed by law, and the windows had stout shutters. Everything within it had come from England.
The books were ponderous folios, stout duodecimos encased in embossed leather, and among them was a folio containing Master William Shakespeare"s dramas, collected by his fellow actors Heminge and Condell. Later by many years a frame house supplanted this primitive, fort-like homestead, and early in the eighteenth century, after several generations had been educated in England, an heir built the n.o.ble manor as it still stands-an accomplished gentleman with lace collar, slashed doublet, and sable silvered hair, a combination of scholar, courtier, and soldier. And such had been the master of the little kingdom ever since.
In the earliest days the highest and reddest cedars in the world rose above the underbrush. The wild vines were so full of grape bunches that the very turf overflowed with them. Deer, turkeys, and snow-white cranes were in incredible abundance. The sh.o.r.es were fringed with verdure. The Indians were a "kind, loving people." Englishmen called it the "Good Land," and found it "most plentiful, sweet, wholesome, and fruitful of all others." The east was the ocean; Florida was the south; the north was Nova Francia, and the west unknown. Only the sh.o.r.es touched the interior, which was an untravelled realm of fairer fruits and flowers than in England; green sh.o.r.es, majestic forests, and blue mountains filled with gold and jewels. Bright birds flitted, dusky maids danced and beckoned, rivers ran over golden sand, and toward the South Sea was the Fount of Youth, whose waters made the aged young again. Bermuda Islands were an enchanted den full of furies and devils which all men did shun as h.e.l.l and perdition. And the feet of all who had made history had trod that broad path to the owner"s heart and home.
Down it now came a little girl-the flower of all those dead and gone-and her coming was just as though one of the flowers about her had stepped from its gay company on one or the other side of the path to make through them a dainty, triumphal march as the fairest of them all. At the dial she paused and her impatient blue eyes turned to a bend of the yellow river for the first glimpse of a gay barge that soon must come.
At the wharf the song of negroes rose as they unloaded the boat just from Richmond. She would go and see if there was not a package for her mother and perhaps a present for herself, so with another look to the river bend she turned, but she moved no farther. Instead, she gave a little gasp, in which there was no fear, though what she saw was surely startling enough to have made her wheel in flight. Instead, she gazed steadily into a pair of grave black eyes that were fixed on her from under a green branch that overhung the footpath, and steadily she searched the figure standing there, from the c.o.o.nskin cap down the fringed hunting-shirt and fringed breeches to the moccasined feet. And still the strange figure stood arms folded, motionless and silent.
Neither the att.i.tude nor the silence was quite pleasing, and the girl"s supple slenderness stiffened, her arms went rigidly to her sides, and a haughty little snap sent her undimpled chin upward.
"What do you want?"
And still he looked, searching her in turn from head to foot, for he was no more strange to her than she was to him.
"Who are you and what do you want?"
It was a new way for a woman to speak to a man; he in turn was not pleased, and a gleam in his eyes showed it.
"I am the son of a king."
She started to laugh, but grew puzzled, for she had the blood of Pocahontas herself.
"You are an Indian?"
He shook his head, scorning to explain, dropped his rifle to the hollow of his arm, and, reaching for his belt where she saw the buckhorn handle of a hunting-knife, came toward her, but she did not flinch. Drawing a letter from the belt, he handed it to her. It was so worn and soiled that she took it daintily and saw on it her father"s name. The boy waved his hand toward the house far up the path.
"He live here?"
"You wish to see him?"
The boy grunted a.s.sent, and with a shock of resentment the little lady started up the path with her head very high indeed. The boy slipped noiselessly after her, his face unmoved, but his eyes were darting right and left to the flowers, trees, and bushes, to every flitting, strange bird, the gray streak of a scampering squirrel, and what he could not see, his ears took in-the clanking chains of work-horses, the whir of a quail, the screech of a peac.o.c.k, the songs of negroes from far-off fields.
On the porch sat a gentleman in powdered wig and knee-breeches, who, lifting his eyes from a copy of _The Spectator_ to give an order to a negro servant, saw the two coming, and the first look of bewilderment on his fine face gave way to a tolerant smile. A stray cat or dog, a crippled chicken, a neighbor"s child, or a pickaninny-all these his little daughter had brought in at one time or another for a home, and now she had a strange ward, indeed. He asked no question, for a purpose very decided and definite was plainly bringing the little lady on, and he would not have to question. Swiftly she ran up the steps, her mouth primly set, and handed him a letter.
[Ill.u.s.tration: "The messenger is the son of a king"]
"The messenger is the son of a king."
"A what?"
"The son of a king," she repeated gravely.
"Ah," said the gentleman, humoring her, "ask his highness to be seated."
His highness was looking from one to the other gravely and keenly. He did not quite understand, but he knew gentle fun was being poked at him, and he dropped sullenly on the edge of the porch and stared in front of him. The little girl saw that his moccasins were much worn and that in one was a hole with the edge blood-stained. And then she began to watch her father"s face, which showed that the contents of the letter were astounding him. He rose quickly when he had finished and put out his hand to the stranger.
"I am glad to see you, my boy," he said with great kindness. "Barbara, this is a little kinsman of ours from Kentucky. He was the adopted son of an Indian chief, but by blood he is your own cousin. His name is Erskine Dale."
IV
The little girl rose startled, but her breeding was too fine for betrayal, and she went to him with hand outstretched. The boy took it as he had taken her father"s, limply and without rising. The father frowned and smiled-how could the lad have learned manners? And then he, too, saw the hole in the moccasin through which the bleeding had started again.
"You are hurt-you have walked a long way?"
The lad shrugged his shoulders carelessly.
"Three days-I had to shoot horse."
"Take him into the kitchen, Barbara, and tell Hannah to wash his foot and bandage it."
The boy looked uncomfortable and shook his head, but the little girl was smiling and she told him to come with such sweet imperiousness that he rose helplessly. Old Hannah"s eyes made a bewildered start!
"You go on back an" wait for yo" company, little Miss; I"ll "tend to _him_!"
And when the boy still protested, she flared up:
"Looky here, son, little Miss tell me to wash yo" foot, an" I"se gwinter do it, ef I got to tie you fust; now you keep still. Whar you come from?"
His answer was a somewhat haughty grunt that at once touched the quick instincts of the old negress and checked further question. Swiftly and silently she bound his foot, and with great respect she led him to a little room in one ell of the great house in which was a tub of warm water.
"Ole marster say you been travellin" an" mebbe you like to refresh yo"self wid a hot bath. Dar"s some o" little marster"s clothes on de bed dar, an" a pair o" his shoes, an" I know dey"ll jus" fit you snug.
You"ll find all de folks on de front po"ch when you git through."
She closed the door. Once, winter and summer, the boy had daily plunged into the river with his Indian companions, but he had never had a bath in his life, and he did not know what the word meant; yet he had learned so much at the fort that he had no trouble making out what the tub of water was for. For the same reason he felt no surprise when he picked up the clothes; he was only puzzled how to get into them. He tried, and struggling with the breeches he threw one hand out to the wall to keep from falling and caught a red cord with a bushy red ta.s.sel; whereat there was a ringing that made him spring away from it. A moment later there was a knock at his door.
"Did you ring, suh?" asked a voice. What that meant he did not know, and he made no answer. The door was opened slightly and a woolly head appeared.
"Do you want anything, suh?"
"No."
"Den I reckon hit was anudder bell-Ya.s.suh."
The boy began putting on his own clothes.
Outside Colonel Dale and Barbara had strolled down the big path to the sun-dial, the colonel telling the story of the little Kentucky kinsman-the little girl listening and wide-eyed.
"Is he going to live here with us, papa?"
"Perhaps. You must be very nice to him. He has lived a rude, rough life, but I can see he is very sensitive."
At the bend of the river there was the flash of dripping oars, and the song of the black oarsmen came across the yellow flood.
"There they come!" cried Barbara. And from his window the little Kentuckian saw the company coming up the path, brave with gay clothes and smiles and gallantries. The colonel walked with a grand lady at the head, behind were the belles and beaux, and bringing up the rear was Barbara, escorted by a youth of his own age, who carried his hat under his arm and bore himself as haughtily as his elders. No sooner did he see them mounting to the porch than there was the sound of a horn in the rear, and looking out of the other window the lad saw a coach and four dash through the gate and swing around the road that encircled the great trees, and up to the rear portico, where there was a joyous clamor of greetings. Where did all those people come from? Were they going to stay there and would he have to be among them? All the men were dressed alike and not one was dressed like him. Panic a.s.sailed him, and once more he looked at the clothes on the bed, and then without hesitation walked through the hallway, and stopped on the threshold of the front door. A quaint figure he made there, and for the moment the gay talk and laughter quite ceased. The story of him already had been told, and already was sweeping from cabin to cabin to the farthest edge of the great plantation. Mrs. General Willoughby lifted her lorgnettes to study him curiously, the young ladies turned a battery of searching but friendly rays upon him, the young men regarded him with tolerance and repressed amus.e.m.e.nt, and Barbara, already his champion, turned her eyes from one to the other of them, but always seeing him. No son of Powhatan could have stood there with more dignity, and young Harry Dale"s face broke into a smile of welcome. His father being indoors he went forward with hand outstretched.
"I am your cousin Harry," he said, and taking him by the arm he led him on the round of presentation.