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Updated: May 17, 2025
Pincornet, sat Adam Gaudylock, easy and tawny, dressed as usual in his fringed hunting-frock, with his coonskin cap in his hand, and his gun at his feet. Beside him sat Vinie Mocket, dressed in her best. Vinie's eyes were downcast, and her hands clasped in her lap.
He rose. "And now you must rest, or we will have a rating from Dr. Gilmer. Is there any message I may take for you?" "My devotion and my thanks to the ladies of the house," replied Rand "to Mrs. Churchill and Miss Dandridge and to Miss Churchill. For these" he put his hand upon the papers "I shall look them over, and Joab will take them to Charlottesville to Mocket.
Mocket listened also, but listened with his eyes upon his chief, and when there arose some interruption and dispute over technicalities, his freed mind proceeded to deal with Rand's change of aspect. It occurred to him to wonder if the light which showed it to him could be falling through a veil of storm cloud, but when he glanced at the high window, there was only the blue August heaven.
"Where's Tom?" asked Rand. "Tom should be here " but Vinie had slipped from the ring about the bride. Adam followed; Mr. Pincornet had already faded away. More important folk claimed the attention of the newly wedded pair, and Mr. Mocket had not yet appeared when at last the gathering, bound for the wedding feast at Mrs.
A Quaker in a broad-brimmed hat went by, and then a pretty girl, and then a minister talking broad Scotch, and then a future chief justice who had been to market and had a green basket upon his arm. Gideon drew another breath of satisfaction. "I've been thinking this long time of buying a negro, and now I can do it! Mocket says there's a likely man for sale down by the market.
"You shall be my Queen if you like," he said at last, and Jacqueline laughed, thinking his speech the woodsman's attempt to say a pretty thing. Rand drew forward with determination a small brown figure. "Jacqueline, this is another good friend of mine Miss Lavinia Mocket, the sister of my law partner. Vinie, Vinie, you are shyer than a partridge!
Here are Indians. Here are settlers from the East, and the burden of their song is, 'We are so far from the Old Thirteen that we care not if we are farther yet!" "Hey!" exclaimed Mocket. "That's treason!" "Here Adam Gaudylock met Wilkinson. The river narrows here, and runs deep and strong." Rand's hand rested on the coast-line. "New Orleans," he said, "but capable of becoming a new Rome.
The way to Mocket's lay down a steep hillside, and along the river-bank, under a drift of coloured leaves, and by the sound of falling water. Mocket dwelt in a small house, in a small green yard with a broken gate. A red creeper mantled the tiny porch, and lilac bushes, clucked under by a dozen hens, hedged the grassy yard.
They sat side by side upon the doorstone, her head against his shoulder, their hands locked. "What will you do?" he said. "What will you do? Day and night I think of that!" "Could I stay on here? I would like to." "I have put all affairs in order. The place and the servants are yours. I'vee paid every debt, I think. Mocket knows he'll show you. But to live on here alone "
Well, next week you'll open the office as usual, and to all that come you'll state that I've gone, between courts, to look at a purchase of land in Wood County. I'll bring that forgery case to an end day after to-morrow, and by Monday Adam and I will be out of Albemarle." Mocket drew a long breath. "Monday! That's soon, but the sooner, I reckon, the better. Sometimes just any delay is fatal.
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