The Captain, who for some time had been chafing under the too pressing demands on his power of listening made by Neale, broke away now and drew near Peggy. "I am honored that Mistress Neville is willing to share her attention between me and a squirrel, or perhaps, as I seem to have the minor share, I might better say between a squirrel and me." "That should be set down to my modesty. I felt more equal to the task of amusing a squirrel than Sir Thomas Cornwaleys of Cross Manor." "And to the same cause, perchance, I am to set down the gracious pleasure wherewith you have received the devotion of that young gallant from Virginia who has walked by your bridle-rein since ever we left St. Mary's." "'Twas the Governor's orders." "Ay, and no doubt vastly displeasing to your ladyship." "Oh, I enjoy talking to any one; the one thing I cannot abide is solitude. Is not that a sign of a vacant mind?" "Rather, I should say, of a mind filled with some one person--" "Do I look like a love-sick maid?" "No, but that condition doth oft lie hid under quips and smiles. A girl will pick up her skirts and go lilting over hill and dale light-hearted, the looker-on would think, as a milk-maid, and all the while some love-sorrow eating into her heart like a canker-worm. Now, a man is not so. He goes about biting his thumb and scowling at every son of Adam that speaks to his sweetheart, and, for the matter of that, often enough scowling at his sweetheart herself, as that callow boy has been doing all day." "Faith, I gave him cause." "The more fool he to let you see that your teasing had met with such success. However, I care little how he feels, so long as you are heart-whole; but in the name of all the gallants of Maryland I do protest against seeing Mistress Margaret Neville, on all hands allowed to be the most charming damsel in St. Mary's, carried off by an interloping Virginian. Troth, if the boys don't oust him I'll enter the lists myself." "Truly?" "Try me and see!" Peggy burst out into a merry ringing laugh, suddenly interrupted by the sight of Romney Huntoon coming toward them with white, drawn face and set teeth. The talk and laughter died on the lips of the two who saw him. "Oh, what is it?" said Peggy, running to meet him. "Sure, something dreadful hath befallen! Governor Brent--is he killed?" "No, he is well--he sent me hither; but--there has been an accident--" "Are you hurt, that you look so white?" "No, no; no one you know is injured--but a stranger, a priest, has been struck with a knife and killed." It was Peggy's turn to grow pale now. Here she had been laughing and lightly jesting while this tragedy was brushing her so closely with its sable wings. "Master Neale," Huntoon said, turning to the Councillor, "you and Captain Cornwaleys are to follow this path till you find Governor Brent, and help him to lift the body of the priest to the donkey's back; Mistress Neville, you are to ride before Anne on her donkey here."