There was depth to his reasoning, Marjorie thought, which was riddle-like as well. It was amazing to her how well he could talk on any given topic, naturally, easily, seriously, as the case might be. He never seemed to assume the mastery of any conversation, nor to talk with an air of authority on any subject, for he was alive to all topics and entered into them with the same apparent cleverness and animated interest. He stopped suddenly and exerted a gentle though firm pressure on her arm, obliging her to halt her steps. Surprised, she turned and looked at him. "What is it?" she asked. There was no response. Instead, she looked in the direction of his gaze. Then she saw. A large black snake lay in graceful curves across their path several rods ahead. Its head was somewhat elevated and rigid. Before it fluttered a small chickadee in a sort of strange, though powerless fascination, its wings partly open in a trembling manner, its chirp noisy and incessant, its movement rapid and nervous, as it partly advanced, partly retreated before its enchanter. Nearer and nearer it came, with a great scurrying of the feet and wings, towards the motionless head of the serpent. Until Anderson, picking a stone from the roadside, threw a well-aimed shot which bounded over the head of the snake, causing it to turn immediately and crawl into the recesses of the deep underbrush of the adjoining field. The bird, freed from the source of its sinister charm, flew out of sight into safety. "Thank God!" Marjorie breathed. "I was greatly frightened." "Nothing would have saved that bird," was the reply. "It already was powerless." Marjorie did not answer to this, but became very quiet and pensive. They walked on in silence. Nearing the home of Peggy, they beheld General Arnold seated before them on the spacious veranda in the company of his betrothed. Here was intrusion with a vengeance, Marjorie thought, but the beaming face and the welcoming expression soon dispelled her fears. "Miss Shippen," Anderson said, as he advanced immediately toward her to seize her hand, "allow me to offer my tender though tardy congratulations. It was with the greatest joy that I listened to the happy announcement." "You are most kind, Mr. Anderson, and I thank you for it," was the soft response. "And you, General," said Marjorie. "Let me congratulate you upon your excellent choice." "Rather upon my good fortune," the Governor replied with a generous smile. Peggy blushed at the compliment. "How long before we may be enabled to offer similar greetings to you?" he asked of Mr. Anderson, who was assisting Marjorie into a chair by the side of Peggy. "Oh! Love rules his own kingdom and I am an alien." He drew himself near to the Governor and the conversation turned naturally and generally to the delicious evening. The very atmosphere thrilled with romance. CHAPTER III I