“Does he live in a palace, like the King?  My father once saw the King’s house in a place they call London.”

The gentleman laughed again.  “Ay, he lives in a palace, a red brick palace, sixty feet long and forty feet deep, with a bauble on top that’s all afire on birth-nights.  There are green gardens, too, with winding paths, and sometimes pretty ladies walk in them.  Wouldst like to see all these fine things?”

The child nodded.  “Ay, that I would!  Who is the gentleman that sang, and that now sits by Molly?  See! with his hand touching her hair.  Is he a Governor, too?”

The other glanced in the direction of the sugar-tree, raised his eyebrows, shrugged his shoulders, and returned to his fishing.  “That is Mr. Marmaduke Haward,” he said, “who, having just come into a great estate, goes abroad next month to be taught the newest, most genteel mode of squandering it.  Dost not like his looks, child?  Half the ladies of Williamsburgh are enamored of his beaux yeux.”

Audrey made no answer, for just then the trumpet blew for the mount, and the fisherman must needs draw in and pocket his hook and line.  Clear, high, and sweet, the triumphant notes pierced the air, and were answered from the hills by a thousand fairy horns.  The martial-minded Governor would play the soldier in the wilderness; his little troop of gentlemen and rangers and ebony servants had come out well drilled for their tilt against the mountains.  The echoes were still ringing, when, with laughter, some expenditure of wit, and much cheerful swearing, the camp was struck.  The packhorses were again laden, the rangers swung themselves into their saddles, and the gentlemen beneath the sugar-tree rose from the grass, and tendered their farewells to the oreads.

Alce roundly hoped that their Honors would pass that way again upon their return from the high mountains, and the deepening rose of Molly’s cheeks and her wistful eyes added weight to her mother’s importunity.  The Governor swore that in no great time they would dine again in the valley, and his companions confirmed the oath.  His Excellency, turning to mount his horse, found the pioneer at the animal’s head.

“So, honest fellow,” he exclaimed good-naturedly, “you will not with us to grave your name upon the mountain tops?  Let me tell you that you are giving Fame the go-by.  To march against the mountains and overcome them as though they were so many Frenchmen, and then to gaze into the promised land beyond—­Odso, man, we are as great as were Cortez and Pizarro and their crew!  We are heroes and paladins!  We are the Knights of”—­

His horse, impatient to be gone, struck with a ringing sound an iron-shod hoof against a bit of rock.  “The Knights of the Horseshoe,” said the gentleman nearest the Governor.

Spotswood uttered a delighted exclamation:  “’Gad, Mr. Haward, you’ve hit it!  Well-nigh the first horseshoes used in Virginia—­the number we were forced to bring along—­the sound of the iron against the rocks—­the Knights of the Horseshoe!  ’Gad, I’ll send to London and have little horseshoes—­little gold horseshoes—­made, and every man of us shall wear one.  The Knights of the Golden Horseshoe!  It hath an odd, charming sound, eh, gentlemen?”