Romney colored but took the goblet, raised it and said, bowing to all corners of the room,-- "To my guests, one and all!" "I give you 'The Ladies of Virginia!'" called Colonel Payne. "Here's to Maryland! Confusion to her men, but long life to her women!" It was Claiborne who spoke, and Captain Snow capped the toast by clinking his new ring against his goblet and crying, "I drink to Her!" Peggy, seeing Romney's face darken again, took her courage in both hands and with it her goblet, which she lifted, saying in a soft voice which could yet be heard over all the room,-- "To Master and Mistress Huntoon, the kindest hostess and the noblest host, and--" here she stretched out her hand to Romney, "to the hero of the night, the best comrade in the world!" A chorus of "Long life to them all!" greeted the toast, and the goblets clinked merrily; but to Romney it might have been water or wine or poison they were drinking, for all he knew or cared. At last, when supper was ended Sir William Berkeley rose in his place, and with a solemnity quite different from his jovial manner of the evening hitherto he said, "One last toast, and we will, if you please, drink it standing. The King, God bless him!" Fifty men sprang to their feet, fifty goblets flashed in air. Then utter silence fell. It was as if the shadow of the scaffold at Whitehall already cast its gloom over the loyal hearts of the colonial cavaliers. The guests broke up into little groups of two and three and wandered back to the dancing-hall, where the fiddles were still working away for dear life at the strains of "The Jovial Beggar" and "Joan's Ale is New." The long lines of reel and brantle formed again, and the dancers refused to give over their merry-making till the gray dawn came peeping in at the window, turning the yellow candlelight to an insignificant glimmer, and hinting of the approaching day and its humdrum duties. As the guests, one by one, came up to bid their hosts a good-night, which might more appropriately have been a good-morning, Master Claiborne drew Huntoon aside a moment, asking,-- "Will you be at home to-morrow--I mean to-day?" "Ay." "Then I may come to see you?" "Why not stay now, since 'tis already day?" "Because there be others I must see first, but I will be back before noon." "And I glad as always to see you, but too sleepy, I fear, to give heed to any business." "Then get your sleep before, for it is business of moment touching which we need your aid and counsel." Before Huntoon could answer, another guest claimed his attention, and he followed to the door to help the ladies, who had donned their hoods and safeguards, to mount their horses or embark in the boats. As they rode or sailed away into the gray dawn, Peggy, wrapped in her red cloak, stood with Romney watching them from the porch. "It has been _such_ a beautiful ball!" she sighed. "You think so?"