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In 1773 we find William Eddis, Surveyor of Customs at Annapolis, writing that the Legislature of the Province had determined to fit up Governor Bladen's mansion and "to endow and form a college for the education of youth in every liberal and useful branch of science," which college, "conducted under excellent regulations, will shortly preclude the necessity of crossing the Atlantic for the completion of a classical and polite education."

It was granted, by the State, Governor Bladen's mansion and four acres of land surrounding it, was made heir to the funds of King William's School, and secured £9,000 from private beneficence in the first two years of its history.

And touching her horse lightly with the whip she rode away at a gallop. "She sho'ly is a lady!" said Yancy, staring after her. "And we mustn't forget Memphis or Belle Plain, Nevvy." Crenshaw and the squire approached. "Bob," said the merchant, "Bladen's going to have the boy but he made a mistake in putting this business in the hands of a fool like Dave Blount. I reckon he knows that now."

John; the old general used to spend a heap on the Barony and we all know he never got a cent back, so I reckon the money's there yet. "Bladen's got an answer from them South Carolina Quintards, and they don't know nothing about the boy," said Crenshaw, changing the subject. "So you can rest easy, Bob; they ain't going to want him." "Well, sir, that surely is a passel of comfort to me.

A third unsuccessful attempt to secure the founding of a college was made in 1761, and a fourth in 1763, when contrary to the earlier course of events, the rock, on which the project was shipwrecked, was found in the Upper House. The college was to be placed at Annapolis, to occupy Governor Bladen's mansion, and to have a faculty of seven masters, who were to be provided with five servants.

Listening for these sounds the boy dozed off. Yancy had become more and more convinced as the evening passed that Murrell was bent on getting him drunk, and suspicion mounted darkly to his brain. He felt certain that he was Bladen's agent. Now, Mr. Yancy took an innocent pride in his ability to "cool off liquor."

Bladen's agent, the unfortunate Blount. Carrington, with his back against a stanchion, watched her discontentedly. "You'll be mighty glad to have this over with, Miss Malroy " he said at length, with a comprehensive sweep toward the river. "Yes shan't you?" and she opened her eyes questioningly. "No," said Carrington with a short laugh, drawing a chair near hers and sitting down.

"Bladen's hurt himself by the stand he's taken it this matter," Murrell added. They went forward in silence, Yancy brooding and suspicious. For the last mile or so their way had led through an unbroken forest, but a sudden turn in the road brought them to the edge of an extensive clearing.