“Challenge that man—­he deserted in the Indian War!

     “November the fourth, in the year ninety-one,
     We had a sore engagement near to Fort Jefferson!”

“Here’s a traveller who has seen the mammoth and climbed the Salt Mountain!”

“Here’s a tobacco-roller!  Hey, my man, don’t you miss old friends on the road?”

Under cover of the high words, laughter, and vituperation which made a babel of the courtroom, Cary spoke to his opponent.  “Mr. Rand, do you remember that frosty morning, long ago, when you and I first met?  I came upon you in the woods, and together we gathered chinquapins.  Does it seem long to you since you were a boy?”

“Long enough!” answered Rand.  “I remember that day very well.”

“We told each other our names, I remember, and what each meant to do in the world.  We hardly foresaw this day.”  “It is not easy to foresee,” said Rand slowly.  “If we could, we might—­”

“We might foresee our last meeting,” smiled Cary, “as we remember our first.”  He took a glass of wine from a passing servant and put it to his lips, “To another meeting, in the wood!” he said, “since I may not quite drink to your victory.”

“Ah, my victory!” answered Rand.  “When I have it, I don’t know that I shall care for it!  That’s a handsome youth, your brother—­and he has worked for you like a Trojan!  I’ll drink to your brother!”

“Here are the Green Spring folk!” cried a voice.  “They always vote like gentlemen!”

The Green Spring folk were a squadron, and they voted Cary again within sight of the goal.  A man who had been standing just without the open door rested his long musket against the wall and advanced to the polls.  “Last time I voted here,” he said, “’twas for Mr. Jefferson.  I reckon I’ll have to vote to-day for Lewis Rand.”

A tumult arose.  “Adam Gaudylock belongs upon the Mississippi!—­He isn’t an Albemarle man!—­He’s a Kentuck—­He’s a Louisianian—­He’s a subject of Jefferson’s new kingdom!—­Challenged!—­He can’t vote in Albemarle!”

The hunter waited for the uproar to cease.  “You Federalists are mighty poor shots!” he exclaimed at last.  “You make no account of the wind.  I am subject of no man’s kingdom.  I trade in New Orleans, and I travel on the great rivers, and I’ve friends in Kentucky, and I hunt where the hunting’s good, but when I want to vote I come back to my own county where I was born, and where I grew up among you all, and where I’ve yet a pretty piece of land between here and the mountains.  I voted here before, and I’ll vote here again.  The Gaudylocks may wander and wander, but their home is on the Three-Notched Road, and they vote in Albemarle.”

The vote standing, and Adam being followed by a string of hunters, traders, and boatmen, the Republican candidate was again and finally in advance.  The winds blew for him from the four quarters.  In the last golden light of the afternoon there was a strong and sudden muster of Republicans.  From all directions stragglers appeared, voice after voice proclaiming for the man who, regarded at first as merely a protege of Jefferson, had come in the last two years to be regarded for himself.  The power in him had ceased to be latent, and friend and foe were beginning to watch Lewis Rand and his doings with intentness.