As Neville withdrew his gaze from the water to the deck, the hallucination of familiar figures followed him. There close at his elbow was the dear round face with its roguish dimples and mischievous eyes, not cast down and swollen with crying as he had seen them last, but full of life and light, and her dear voice was murmuring in his ear,—
"Kit, my darling brother, I am here. Are you glad?"
Neville brushed his arm across his eyes: the figure was too real. It savored of madness, but it would not move. When he opened his eyes again, there it stood, more solid than ever, but now the tears were rising in the eyes, and the hands were stretched out softly toward him.
"Where am I? What does it mean?" Christopher murmured.
"It means," said the senior escort, removing his hat, and revealing the dark curls of Romney Huntoon, "that we have decided upon a change of venue for your case, and have arranged to remove the jurisdiction to Romney Hall, York County, Virginia."
"Bless my soul!" cried Philpotts, from the companionway; "he's told him, the mean devil, and me not there to see the fun—me, that's beaten any play actor in the old country at deceiving tricks. Sir Christopher, the Captain and crew of the ketch Lady Betty are at your service, and it's no more of prison bars we'll hear after we touch Protestant Virginia."
"Peggy, Peggy, what have you done?" exclaimed her brother, bending over her brown head as it lay on his breast, as she knelt close beside him.
"Done? We have saved you from prison, to be sure. He and I and good Master Philpotts, that we thought to outwit and found full ready to help us. And this is Master Huntoon's boat all ready loaded for Romney. He brought it round yesterday from St. Mary's. He's rather clever, that Master Huntoon, though he keeps his wits mostly for great occasions."
"Vastly clever of you all three, and vastly dull of me to be your dupe! I thank you all heartily; and now will you please put your helm about, and head the ketch for St. Mary's with what speed you may?"