"Let me thank you for the intention at least before you go," said Neville, ignoring the churlish speech of the older man and addressing himself to the one in purple. "A kind word may carry more warmth than a purple cloak." Then he sank back, gazing out over the water, while the sails were raised and the ropes cast off from the wharf, which slowly receded as the bright sunrise-tinted water slipped along the keel, and the brisk little waves slapped the side of the ketch as if daring her to a game of tag. They were out in the river now. The Potomac spread far to the southward as far as eye could reach, with vague hints of low hills so near the hue of the water that one could scarce tell where water ended and land began, or where the land again slipped into the misty blueness of the western sky. Neville strained his eyes to catch sight of a particular point as they passed it,--a point rising a little from the water and crowned with a thick growth of primeval forest. There lay Robin Hood's Barn, and the wide acres of Cecil's Manor stretched peacefully along the river just where it widened into the bay. There is a peculiar irony in watching in our unhappiness the scenes associated with hours of hope and joy. Neville smiled bitterly as he contrasted what might have been with what was. Then he reproached himself for a coward and a faint heart that was ready to yield to the first buffet of Fate. He resolved to turn his mind from gloomy thoughts and find comfort in the cheerfulness around him. The ketch was running free with all sails spread and looked like a big white bird skimming the surface. It was a sight to cheer the heart of the most downcast, but more cheering still was the smell of breakfast a-cooking in the cabin, and right willingly did Neville respond to the call and seat himself at the rude board in the tiny cabin, which, rude as it was, proved a welcome shelter from the fresh wind blowing outside. "I reckon," he said, looking with a smile at his captors, "that I am to be allowed the freedom of my arms while eating unless ye do intend to feed me with a pap spoon like an infant." "All in good time, Sir Christopher." It seemed to be always the tall man who spoke. "Curse his ready tongue! Why will he never give the other fellow a chance?" thought Neville, but held his peace while the spokesman continued,-- "Before we remove the rope we want your oath to two things. First, that you will make no effort to escape. Second, that you will cheerfully obey our orders and those, whatever they may be, in this sealed paper." "A largish contract; but for the first I can well afford to promise, since having put aside the chance of escape when 'twas easy, I am not like to undertake it now 'tis become well-nigh impossible. I'm neither whale nor Jonah that I should set out to swim a matter of a dozen miles to land; and as for running away, I am bound to see this trial to a finish and try what Maryland law for Protestants is."