The sunlight had all but faded from the heights, when one of the company, stumbling over a round and mossy rock, measured his length upon the ground, amid his own oaths at his mishap, and the exclamations of the man immediately in his rear, whose progress he had thus unceremoniously blocked.  The horse of the fallen man, startled by the dragging at the reins, reared and plunged, and in a moment the entire column was in disorder.  When the frightened animals were at last quieted, and the line re-formed, the Governor called out to know who it was that had fallen, and whether any damage had been suffered.

“It was Mr. Haward, sir!” cried two or three; and presently the injured gentleman himself, limping painfully, and with one side of his fine green coat all stained by reason of contact with a bit of muddy ground, appeared before his Excellency.

“I have had a cursed mishap,—­saving your presence, sir,” he explained.  “The right ankle is, I fear, badly sprained.  The pain, is exquisite, and I know not how I am to climb mountains.”

The Governor uttered an exclamation of concern:  “Unfortunate!  Dr. Robinson must look to the hurt at once.”

“Your Excellency forgets my dispute with Dr. Robinson as to the dose of Jesuit bark for my servant,” said the sufferer blandly.  “Were I in extremis I should not apply to him for relief.”

“I’ll lay my life that you are not in extremis now,” retorted the doctor.  “If ever I saw a man with a sprained ankle keep his color so marvelously, or heard him speak in so composed a tone!  The pain must be of a very unusual degree indeed!”

“It is,” answered Mr. Haward calmly.  “I cannot possibly go on in this condition, your Excellency, nor can I dream of allowing my unlucky accident to delay this worshipful company in their ascent of the mountains.  I will therefore take my servant and ride slowly back to the cabin which we left this afternoon.  Doubtless the worthy pioneer will give me shelter until my foot is healed, and I will rejoin your Excellency upon your return through the valley.”

As he spoke, for the greater ease of the injured member, he leaned against a towering lock.  He was a handsome youth, with a trick of keeping an unmoved countenance under even such a fire of laughter and exclamation as greeted his announcement.

“And for this you would lose the passing of the Appalachian Mountains!” cried Spotswood.  “Why, man! from those heights we may almost see Lake Erie; may find out how near we are to the French, how easily the mountains may be traversed, what promise of success should his Majesty determine to plant settlements beyond them or to hold the mountain passes!  There is service to be done and honor to be gained, and you would lag behind because of a wrenched ankle!  Zoons, sir! at Blenheim I charged a whole regiment of Frenchmen, with a wound in my breast into which you might have thrust your hand!”