The next few days were uneventful. Richard Maynadier, after staying until midnight, rode home, sober and sedate, with his body-servant, a fruitless effort of the men to keep him, by other means than simple persuasion, having failed. Equally futile had been Miss Stirling's politic allurements, and George Marbury's importunities.  
Sir Edward Parkington had spent a number of hours with Judith Marbury, and was rather well pleased with them. Not that he had ventured on anything personal,—he was far too old a bird—but inferences from actions may be drawn, and he thought that she was not altogether dense. Enough, for the present, if she gathered that he had shown a slight partiality for her society. Let her get persuaded of that fact, before he proceeded further. He had all the summer before him, and the matter could be worked out, in that time—if it was to be worked out at all.
 
He had, also, paid due attention to the father. He had inspected his tobacco fields—had watched the slaves and servants at work—had listened to a minute description of the manner of curing and hogs-heading—in fine, had the whole industry expounded to him. And, with it all, he had been[Pg 123] careful to show a quiet enthusiasm that did much to set right the indiscretion of the other morning. He wanted to relieve Marbury's mind of all distrust, and he took the very best means to accomplish it:—he evinced an interest in the other's work, and he grew confidential himself.
 
"I have not told any one, not even Colonel Sharpe," he said, as they were riding in from the fields, "the real object in my coming to America. I am thinking of settling here. Do not repeat it, please.—Yes, I know I can trust you, else I should not have spoken. I shall look around, and pick out a likely place, and if the price is not excessive, and if some other like matters can be arranged, I am about ready to become one of you."
 
"Maryland should be proud to welcome you!" Marbury exclaimed.
 
"Well, there are other ways of looking at it," said Parkington laughing. "Some people may say that I should be glad to come to Maryland. But that is neither here nor there; if the old residents will receive me, and let me be one of them, it is quite enough."
 
"There will be no trouble on that score—they will be glad enough to take you in!"
 
"That is very good of you," (including, by the "you," Marbury among the old residents), "I shall try to make a companionable neighbor. I wonder if there are any estates, in this part of the country, for sale—or which could be purchased for a [Pg 124]reasonable amount. I like this section—it is a little farther South than Annapolis, and, besides, seems more fertile—better adapted for tobacco."
 
"It is, sir!—it is quite equal to Virginia.—And, speaking of places, you might get Rousby Hall, one of the finest we have. You have not seen it?"
 
"No, I have seen no place but this one—and it, I suppose, is not in the market."
 
Old Marbury shook his head, decisively.
 
"Not at any price!" he said. "But Rousby Hall has a woman for the heiress—she is here, now, young Mrs. Plater. Colonel Rousby, her father, might be willing to sell it, for a good price, and pass his winters in Annapolis, and his summers with his daughter, at Sotterly.... I do not know any other that could be had—Maynadier's is out of the question—and Plater's, and Fitzhugh's, and Snowden's, and Bladen's, and Ridgeley's—no, Rousby Hall is the only one.—Do you wish to see it?"
 
"Yes—sometime before we leave here—just a glance. I would not wish to appear, yet, you understand—not until my affairs are more definitely arranged."
 
"Very well," said Marbury. "Any help I can give is yours for the asking. Meanwhile, I can ascertain whether Colonel Rousby would consider selling."
 
"Yes—it would be very kind," said Parkington, as he dismounted. "Meanwhile, not a word."
 
[Pg 125]
 
"Hum-m!" thought Marbury. "I shall not be the one to tell it.... Going to settle here—maybe! He is not married—I wonder if Judith might take a fancy to him.... Hum-m!... She will have a very good sized dowery, and an Englishman does not despise such things.... Well, we shall see.... Hum-m!" And he went on to the wharf.
 
And Parkington, watching him ride down the avenue, was thinking.
 
"Let that idea sink in, Marbury. Sir Edward Parkington is considering settling here—and marrying—with your permission and a fitting competence. But Rousby Hall? There is not money enough won across the card tables, in all Maryland, to buy it,—and I have no other source of revenue.... I reckon, the girl herself will be sufficient; if I can win her, I will be content. Afterward, with father's generosity, we can consider Rousby Hall. And the girl is a beauty—ah, here she comes!—God, what a figure!"
 
"Whither away, Sir Edward?" she asked, seeing that he wore riding boots.
 
"No whither," he said. "I have just returned—your father and I were inspecting the fields."
 
"You are a guest after his own heart!" she laughed. "Are you really interested, or is it chargeable to good manners?"
 
"I am really interested—and one can learn much from your father."
 
[Pg 126]
 
"Yes, that they can," she said enthusiastically. "None in the Colony is better qualified from actual experience."
 
"And experience is what I want," he said. "You would not believe me, the other evening, that I am thinking seriously of making Maryland my home."
 
"Of course, not!" she answered.
 
"But I am in earnest," he insisted.
 
She looked at him, a moment, in silence. What was the meaning of this move. What could be its object. That he intended to remain, she never for a moment believed, but, why pretend? Here was a problem too difficult for her to solve—she would have to tell Maynadier.
 
"I ask you, however, not to disclose it, for the present," he continued. "I want to look around a bit—and pick out a place, and—you understand."
 
"No, I do not understand," she replied, implying much more than she conveyed; "but, if you wish, I shall hold it confidential until you release me—I fancy the notion will not linger overlong."
 
"Mademoiselle still doubts?" he smiled.
 
"Monsieur still plays on my credulity."
 
"You will see!"
 
"I shall be very glad to see!" she laughed, (meaning the end of his masquerade).
 
"What—my staying or my leaving?"
 
"Whatever is for the best," she evaded.
 
[Pg 127]
 
"Rather enigmatic!" he said. "Do you mean, the best for me, or the best for the Colony?"
 
"They should be identical—the best for the Colony should be the best for you."
 
"In theory, possibly, but not always in practice. The best thing for me may be to stay, but it may be the worst for the Colony."
 
"That can be determined only by trial," she said. "In the meantime, what do you think it will be?"
 
"Which brings us back to the starting point!" he laughed. "We have rounded the circle. I think it will be that I stay."
 
"Then, I hope it will prove pleasant and profitable."
 
"And you will stand my friend?" he asked.
 
"What makes you think I shall not?" she said, evasively.
 
"Nothing—I only wanted to have your promise safely filed away."
 
"I fancy every one will be glad to be your friend, Sir Edward,"—(smiling) "so long as you deserve it."
 
"So long as I deserve it," he repeated, with a laugh. "Do you think the time may come when they will deem it well to give me their backs?"
 
"Not at all!" she replied. "I would have said the same to any one—under similar circumstances."
 
His eyes studied her—he did not miss the qualifying phrase, but he took it to apply to him as an Englishman.
 
[Pg 128]
 
"If all my Annapolis acquaintances are as glad to have me one of them, as you are," he remarked, "my welcome will not turn my head."
 
"Are you in search of flattery, or do you honestly want what I think?"
 
"What you think; by all means, what you think," he said.
 
"Well, you have it—you cannot persuade me, that one of Sir Edward Parkington's standing, in London, can ever voluntarily become a Colonist. If he does, there must be a cause—and a cause means——"
 
"What, mademoiselle?"
 
She shrugged her pretty shoulders, "I do not know, monsieur; but I have a woman's intuition, and it tells me——"
 
"Yes," he said, "tells you what?"
 
She looked at him with a quizzical smile.
 
"That Sir Edward Parkington will never settle in the Colonies," she replied.
 
He thought of the dead man, in the grave by the seashore, near St. Mary's.
 
"Sir Edward is quite content with his present abode," he said, and laughed.
 
"Yes, for a time," thinking he referred to Hedgely Hall.
 
"For all time, and eternity, too."
 
"Am I to take that as compliment?" she asked.
 
"Not as a compliment—as the simple truth,"[Pg 129] he answered, very seriously,—too seriously, indeed, for it did not ring quite true, and she detected it.
 
"I fear that you equivocate," she cried. "You mean something which you do not say."
 
"I protest——"
 
"Be careful, lest you protest too much, Sir Edward."
 
"You are unjust," he declared—"what other meaning could I have?"
 
Again the shoulders did duty. "I am a poor guesser of motives—particularly, when they do not concern me," she answered.
 
"Unkind, unkind!" he cried—then they both laughed.
 
"Let us go in to breakfast," she said.
 
They were turning away, when the clatter of a galloping horse, attracted them, and up the avenue, at full speed, came Henry Marbury.
 
"Why, it is father!" she exclaimed—"what can be the matter? he is waving to us—what does he mean?"
 
"Stay here, I will meet him," said Parkington, and hurried down the steps.
 
At the same time, a negro groom ran out from the stables, and stood ready to take the horse.
 
"Go in! Go in! Close the house!" Marbury cried—"close the house, quick!—quick!"
 
"What?" shouted Parkington, the pounding of the hoofs drowning the words. "What do you say?"
 
[Pg 130]
 
"Close the house! quick!—quick!"
 
"Close the house! quick!" Parkington repeated to Judith.
 
A moment later, Marbury dashed up, flung the reins from him, and leaped down.
 
"Pirates!" he shouted. "Pirates!—they are coming!" pointing behind him—where, five hundred yards away, and barely distinguishable among the trees, a crowd of men were approaching on the run.
 
"Pirates!" said Parkington, incredulously. "Surely not!"
 
"Then, stay and welcome them, if you think so," called Marbury, rushing up the steps.
 
Parkington stayed long enough to get another view of the nearing men, then followed him.
 
Within, he found both order and confusion. The guests were just about to assemble for breakfast—some were down stairs, some about to come down, others just finishing their toilet. Marbury was standing in the hall giving orders to the blacks, who were frightened but still retained sufficient sense to do as they were told. Mr. Paca, Captain Herford, and the other men were closing the shutters on the lower floor, the women those on the floor above. Already the pirates had sent a detachment around to the rear of the house, keeping under cover of the stables, and escape for the women, by horseback, was cut off. George Marbury had managed to send a servant off, an instant before, however, to apprise the nearest plantations of their plight—and [Pg 131]begging that they muster all the assistance in their power and hasten to the rescue.
 
Parkington looked on, for an instant, then, seeing Constable come from the library with a gun, he hastened ............