"Come, come, young people!" called Giles Brent; "my horse has more sense than you, for he is pawing the ground and eager to be off. Since we can move but at a snail's pace along the trail, which is harder than ever to keep, with the snow on it, we'd best waste no time. I will ride in front to prospect, and the women shall follow. Do you, Huntoon, walk by Mistress Neville's bridle, and Neale and Cornwaleys shall follow as a rear guard keeping a sharp look-out, for wolves and other wild beasts are grown desperate with hunger in this cold weather, and may be met when least expected." The little procession took up its line of march along the narrow street and out at the gate which gave upon the road leading across country. As they wound up a hill that lay behind the town Peggy turned in her saddle for a last look at the huddle of log cabins. Hers was one of those tender hearts that can cling to bare walls, so they be hung with associations. The scene on which the girl's eyes rested was fair enough in itself to need no associations to give it interest. From the height she could look down upon the broad, placid river lying in a series of loops like little lakes. For a distance of eight miles it stretched away blue as the sky above it till it merged itself in the dimmer gray of the Potomac. Across the river rose gently swelling hills, and there in the foreground like a giant sentinel loomed the great mulberry tree which had witnessed Calvert's dealings with the natives, which bore on its trunk placard and proclamation, and, in short, served most of the purposes of a town hall. Peggy looked long over the enchanting prospect, then letting her eyes fall upon the hamlet of St. Mary's she scanned the little group of houses, the great cross in the centre, the smoke curling up from the mud chimneys, the blue reach of the stream at the foot of the bluff. Suddenly she gave an exclamation of amazement. "Why, where is Captain Ingle's ship?" she asked, turning from one to another of her companions. No one answered. "I saw it last evening at sunset," she went on. "I am sure of it, for I went down to the wharf with our serving-man to buy grain, and I asked Captain Ingle when he would be off, and he said, 'Not for some time;' and that when he went he would fire a salute of five guns in my honor." "'Tis like his insolence," muttered Huntoon between his teeth. "Yes, but how is it that he is gone? Surely, you who are about the village so much must have heard something of the matter." The mysterious silence continued a moment longer. Then Giles Brent said repressively,-- "Master Ingle sailed last night." "Oh, so you _do_ know all about it," cried the irrepressible Peggy. "I know nothing to speak of," answered Brent, in so significant a tone that even Peggy could find courage for no rejoinder, but turned to Huntoon and bade him walk a little faster, or the donkey would tread upon his heels.