"We have his honour the lieutenant-governor and party on board," he said breathlessly.
Cranston, because he saw that he was expected to be overcome, remained grimly unconcerned. "So!" he said coolly.
The youngster stared. "The lieutenant-governor," he repeated uncertainly. "He's landing here to make some explorations in the mountains. He joined us without warning at the Crossing. There was no way to let you know."
"We'll do the best we can for his lordship," said Cranston with an ironic curl to his grim lips. "I will speak to my wife."
To her he said under his breath, grimly but not unkindly, "Get to the house, my girl."
She flared up with true savage suddenness. "So, I'm not good enough to be seen with you," she snarled, taking no pains to lower her voice. "I'm your lawful wife. These are my children. Are you ashamed of my colour? You chose me!"
Cranston drew the long breath that calls on patience. "'Tis not your colour that puts me to shame, but your manners," he said sternly. "And if they're bad," he added, "it's not for the lack of teaching. Get to the house!"
She went.
The captain of the steamboat now appeared on the gangplank, ushering an immaculate little gentleman whose salient features were a Panama hat above price, a pointed white beard, neat, agile limbs, and a trim little paunch under a miraculously fitting white waistcoat. Two other men followed, one elderly, one young.
Cranston waited for them at the top of the path.