V AN OUTLAW CHIEF OF MARYLAND
(Maryland, 1684)
I
"I'm riding south to St. Mary's to-morrow, Michael," said George Talbot. He gave his horse a slap on the flank that sent it toward the stable. "Want to come with me, and see something of the Bay?"
"Yes indeed," said Michael Rowan. "You know, Mr. George, I always like to ride with you."
Talbot smiled at the red-cheeked boy, whose black hair and blue eyes gave proof of his Irish blood. "You're loyal to the chief of the clan, aren't you, Michael? Well, if I were warden of the Scottish marches I wouldn't ask for better followers than such as you."
Michael flushed. "My father has taught me always to do your bidding, Mr. George. It seems to me the right thing to do."
"I hope it always will. There's some who don't think as well of me as your father does." Talbot slapped his riding-whip against his boot. "But we don't care what they think, do we? A fig for all critics, I say! Each man to his own salvation!" He went up the steps to his house, while Michael watched him with frank admiration.