"I have a wife and six young children, Dick, all of them mostly ailing. I've tried Miranda Jones' spring medicine, and all of them have had Dr. McGuire bleed them until they could stand it no longer, but it didn't do any good. They are all dependent on me. Who would pay for their medicines if I should happen to fall ill and die?"
"They would probably be much better off if such an accident did happen to you," I answered, laughing. "It's about time you let them alone. I certainly think you ought to volunteer, or better still, raise a company with Will and myself in it. Then, with Sam and Snake to look out for us, we might operate to some advantage."
"I'll think of it, Dick. I'll think of it, but I must go now to headquarters. Good-bye!" And his lean hand closed upon mine with a hearty grip. Then he took the bridle of his mare from Snake and vaulted lightly into the saddle. In a moment he and his servant had disappeared around the corner of the street.
I wended my way to the house where Will and I were stopping and made ready for our journey.
The next day about dusk we landed at the Hall.
Of course it is needless for me to say much about our welcome, but my poor mother's joy at seeing us again was nothing to her sorrow when Will had told the painful details of my affair with Harrison. After Miss Carter heard the details of the fight she appeared to regard me with secret horror for a few days, but then I knew all women were much set against violence.
"But where is Mary now?" my mother asked of Will, after she had regained herself.
"Nothing could induce her to remain in sight of Dick," said Will, "so she sailed for England on one of Dunmore's vessels the day we entered Norfolk." And that was the last time I ever heard him mention my sister's name for years.
Rose was not a very joyous bride a couple of weeks later, but her tenderness and thoughtfulness made up for the lack of passionate love, which I felt sure she would develop as the years went by, and the memory of Harrison faded from her mind.
One day, about a month after we were married, I went to the stables to see about my horses getting their salt properly. As I stood at the stable window, looking out towards the slave quarters, I saw Will Byrd standing at the curve of the carriage drive, gazing steadily at a slave woman who held a shining black pickaninny in her arms. The slave woman sat under a tree and dangled some plaything over the child's face and crooned to it. The day was cold, and I thought it strange that the woman should sit there with the child, even though the little thing was carefully wrapped up in a shawl.