"Why don't he go?" cried a musical feminine voice. "Oh, Harriet, Harriet!" With more laughter came a rustling of green leaves. Parting the forest curtain to discover the source of this unusual commotion, Captain Clark descried two girls seated on a small pony, switching with all their slender energy.
"His feet are set. He will not move, Judy."
Leaping at once from his saddle, the Captain bowed low to the maidens in distress. "Can I be of any assistance?"
The sudden apparition of a handsome soldier in tri-cornered hat and long silk hose quite took their breath away.
"Thank you, sir knight," answered the blonde with a flush of bewitching colour. "Firefly, my pony, seems to object to carrying two, but we cannot walk across that ford. My cousin and I have on our satin slippers."
The Captain laughed, and taking the horse's bridle easily led them beyond the mountain rill that dashed across their pathway.
"And will you not come to my father's house?" inquired the maiden. "It is here among the trees."
Clark looked,—the roof and gables of a comfortable Virginian mansion shone amid the greenery. "I fear not. I must reach Colonel Hancock's to-night."
"This is Colonel Hancock's," the girls replied with a smothered laugh.
At a signal, York lifted the five-barred gate and all passed in to the long green avenue.