“To my mind,” said Ballard, “it were better to repair the evil that has been done by retracing our steps, rather than to proceed further. When a man is over his depth, he had better return to the shore than to attempt to cross the unfathomable stream.” “Refrain from enigmas, if you please,” said Berkeley, coldly, “and tell me to what you refer.” “Simply,” replied Ballard, firmly, “that all this evil has resulted from your following the jesuitical counsel of a boy, rather than the prudent caution of your advisers. My honoured sir, forgive me if I say it is now your duty to acquiesce in the request of Major Hansford, and withdraw your proclamation.” “And succumb to traitors!” cried Berkeley. “Never while God gives me breath to reiterate it. He who would treat with a traitor, is himself but little better than a traitor.” The flush which mounted to the brow of Ballard attested his indignation at this grave charge; but before he had time to utter the retort which rose to his lips, Berkeley added, “Forgive me, Ballard, for my haste. But the bare idea of making terms with these audacious rebels roused my very blood. No, no! I can die in defence of my trust, but I cannot, will not yield it.” “But it is not yielding,” said Ballard. “Nay—no more of that,” interrupted Berkeley; “let us devise some other means. I have it,” he added, after a pause. “Accomac is still true to my interest, and divided from the mainland by the bay, is difficult of access. There will I pitch my tent, and sound my defiance—and when aid shall come from England, these proud and insolent traitors shall feel the power of my vengeance the more for this insult to my weakness.” This scheme met with the approbation of all present, with the exception of old Ballard, who shook his head, and muttered, that he hoped it might all be for the best. And so it was determined that early the next morning the loyal refugees should embark on board a vessel then lying off Tindal's Point, and sail for Accomac. “And we will celebrate our departure by hanging up that young rogue, Hansford, in half an hour,” said Berkeley. “By what law, may it please your excellency?” asked Ballard, surprised at this threat. “By martial law.” “And for what offence?” “Why zounds, Ballard, you have turned advocate-general for all the rebels in the country,” said Berkeley, petulantly. “No, Sir William, I am advocating the cause of justice and of my king.” “Well, sir, what would you advise? To set the rogue at liberty, I suppose, and by our leniency to encourage treason.” “By no means,” said Ballard. “But either to commit him to custody until he may be fairly tried by a jury of his peers, or to take him with you to Accomac, where, by further developments of this insurrection, you may better judge of the nature of his offence.”