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By the time they had struggled out again, the white man was victor. As dripping captor and captive set off toward James Towne, we saw Fame stick another laurel leaf in the wet, red hair in commemoration of the single combat in which Captain John Smith defeated the "strong, stout Salvage," Wowinchopunk, on the James Towne isthmus. For a while after that, nothing much happened over our way.
Scarcely inside the cool shadows of the tamaracks they paused and looked at each other understandingly; for thrown carelessly into a clump of laurel was a long, freshly cut sapling, that had been used as a lever. They recovered it from its resting place and inspected it. There was no doubt whatever that it had been the instrument of motion.
Laurel heard this from two angles, or, otherwise, when her grandfather was or was not present, the tone of the first far more encouraging than that of the latter. Her father was speaking: "My opinion is that he was unexpectedly held up at Shanghai.
Indian Run where did Indian Run come from or lead to, and who might have been upon that lonely road, or lurking in the laurel and hemlock that clothed the banks of the stream? Three miles up the water was a camping-ground used by gypsies; at a greater distance down the stream a straggling settlement of poor whites, long looked at askance by the county.
Round the edges of both there was a well-trimmed bush of laurel, obscuring only the feet of the dancers from the observing gods. For on Olympus the elders reclined. Great efforts had occasionally been made to dispossess and unseat them, and their security depended mainly on a hump in the middle of the mound which defied the dance. Watteau-like groups were already couched in the shade.
On his head was a laurel wreath. Since his departure from Naples he had increased notably in body. His face had grown wide; under his lower jaw hung a double chin, by which his mouth, always too near his nose, seemed to touch his nostrils.
One instant and he turned, clasping her in his arms: "So let it be, beloved! Thou hast come to me: be mine! If I have little wealth, I can give thee love: love, the glory of life, clothed in colors of scarlet and gold! Thou art here to be my inspiration. Mayst thou find me worthy! Ah, see! The world shall kneel to us yet: shall glorify us with laurel and with gold.
It was a wooden booth erected in the open square, and covered with canvas painted red, which looked as if it had withstood much rain and sunshine. In front were three great boughs of laurel, not so much for shade, I think, as ornament.
"The Laurel Club?" repeated Richard. "Yes; it is a club of about twenty young fellows. I am a member. We have a reading-room, and another for all kinds of games." Norris did not take the trouble to add that "all kinds of games" had narrowed down to simply card playing, and that for money, too. "Just come up for a moment," he went on. "I wish to get a book I left there a few nights ago."
The master brought a wreath of laurel to the young tribune, saying: "'Tis from the king." Vergilius seemed not to hear. Tenderly he raised the lifeless body of Cyran in his arms. The spectators were cheering. "Hail, victor!" they shouted. "Hail, victor!" he whispered, looking into the dead face. "Blessed be they who conquer death." The day was near its end.
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