“At least, Cowles,” said Colonel Sheraton, pacing a short way apart, his hands behind his back, “we can wait until after this election.”

“But if the Government takes action?” suggested Orme.

Sheraton whirled quickly, “Then war! war!” he cried, “War till each Virginian is dead on his doorstep, and each woman starved at her fireside.  John Cowles, you and I will fight—­I know that you will fight.”

“Yes,” said my father, “I will fight.”

“And with us!”

“No,” said my father, sighing; “no, my friend, against you!” I saw my mother look at him and sink back in her chair.  I saw Orme also gaze at him sharply, with a peculiar look upon his face.

But so, at least, this argument ended for the time.  The two men, old neighbors, took each other solemnly by the hand, and presently, after talk of more pleasant sort on lesser matters, the servants brought our carriage and we started back for Cowles’ Farms.

There had been no opportunity for me to mention to Colonel and Mrs. Sheraton something that was upon my mind.  I had small chance for farewell to Miss Grace, and if I shall admit the truth, this pleased me quite as well as not.

We rode in silence for a time, my father musing, my mother silent also.  It was Orme who was the first I heard to speak.

“By the way, Mr. Cowles,” he said, “you spoke of Colonel Meriwether of Albemarle County.  Is he away in the West?  It chances that I have letters to him, and I was purposing going into that country before long.”

“Indeed, sir?” replied my father.  “I am delighted to know that you are to meet my friend.  As it chances, he is my associate in a considerable business enterprise—­a splendid man, a splendid man, Meriwether.  I will, if you do not mind, add my letter to others you may have, and I trust you will carry him our best wishes from this side of the mountains.”

That was like my father—­innocent, unsuspicious, ever ready to accept other men as worthy of his trust, and ever ready to help a stranger as he might.  For myself, I confess I was more suspicious.  Something about Orme set me on edge, I knew not what.  I heard them speaking further about Meriwether’s being somewhere in the West, and heard Orme also say carelessly that he must in any case run over to Albemarle and call upon some men whom he was to meet at the University of Virginia.  We did not ask his errand, and none of us suspected the purpose of his systematic visiting among the more influential centers of that country.  But if you will go now to that white-domed building planned by Thomas Jefferson at Charlottesville, and read the names on the brazen tablets by the doors, names of boys who left school there to enter a harder school, then you will see the results of the visit there of Gordon Orme.