The servants were about, but none else, and, after wandering aimlessly through the house, he sauntered out on the front piazza. He could hear the song of the slaves from a distant tobacco field, the sharp order of some overseer, the call of the sailors, on the Patuxent, and the whistle of the boatswain's pipe. He would go down to the river; a fine pathway, a splendid avenue of trees, and an early May morning going to waste, he might as well make use of them until breakfast. He arrived in time to see the schooner, which had brought them from Annapolis, hoist anchor and sail away down the river. A man, who was standing on the dock giving orders, faced about and came toward him; he recognized old Marbury--in his servant's clothes. "You are up betimes, Sir Edward," he called, heartily. "I but honor the morning and the place," said Parkington. "Though, I confess, if I had not been wakeful, I likely would not have honored them for another hour." The other nodded. "I dare say--you are not of the early risers by birth, and you have no occasion to learn by experience, as I have." "I suppose we miss the best time of the day." "Trash, all trash! you miss an hour or two that may be bright, but it is no brighter than the rest of a bright day--and if it happens to be dismal, it is the dismalest hour of the day. I am up mainly because I'm accustomed to it--it would not be natural for me to sleep late--I cannot do it." "You get better work out of the men by it?" Parkington asked. "Yes, oh, yes! There is nothing like the master's presence, or the possibility of it, to accomplish results." And when Sir Edward smiled, he went on: "You think I have not broken my son to my way of doing? Very true. There is no need--he will not have to labor as I have done, the way is easy for him. It has ceased to be the custom for the master to be up with his slaves. Times change, and people change with them. I have made the money--it will be George's work to live up to it, and to retain it." "Much the easier part," commented Parkington. "I'm not so sure," said Marbury. "Every man to his calling. I could not live up to it--in the aristocratic way, that is; I think George can. But, in doing it requires ability to retain it. Here is the uncertainty." "It is safe so long as you live," Parkington observed. "May be it is," was the answer, with a grim sort of smile; "but I look further ahead. You have heard my history?" Sir Edward hesitated an instant: "Yes," he said, "I have heard it, as the Coffee-house knows it." The other's smile broadened, lighting up his face and eyes, and wiping out their gaunt severity.