At this moment Dick Ringgold, who represented Kent with me, came swinging up the street, and, seeing me standing on the steps, hailed me with—
"Hello, Frisby, have you heard the news?"
"What news?"
"Your old Tory friend Gordon is on the Sally Ann, from London, which has just come up the harbour."
"Any one with him?" I asked anxiously.
"Well," said Dick, maliciously drawling it out, "I heard some one say there was a young lady with him."
I did not stop to protest against the laughter that followed me as I dashed down the street, or to Dick's shout as he called something after me. A few minutes later I was on the wharf.
Out in the stream, swaying with the current of the tide, lay the Sally Ann, her tall spars tapering high in air, her decks full of bustle and activity, showing the journey's end and that the final preparations for disembarkation were under full headway.
As I arrived a boat was pulling off from her side containing two passengers. As I saw them my heart gave a great bound; my hand went to my hat and swung it around my head. In answer to my signal came the fluttering of a handkerchief.
"Sir," said I, as the old Tory stepped ashore, "let me be the first to welcome you back to old Maryland."