“Getting into deeper water,” said Jack.  “I’m not going to let you spoil it by drowning.”

“I wonder what is coming next,” said she.

“I don’t know.  So far it’s as good as Robinson Crusoe.”

“With a book you can skip and see what happens,” she laughed.  “But we shall have to read everything in this story.  I’d love to know all about you.”

He told her with boyish frankness of his plans which included learning and statesmanship and a city home.  He told also of his adventures in the forest with his father.

Meanwhile, the elder John Irons and Mrs. Hare were getting acquainted as they rode along.  The woman had been surprised by the man’s intimate knowledge of English history and had spoken of it.

“Well, you see my wife is a granddaughter of Horatio Walpole of Wolterton and my mother was in a like way related to Thomas Pitt so you see I have a right to my interest in the history of the home land,” said John Irons.

“You have in your veins some of the best blood of England and so I am sure that you must be a loyal subject of the King,” Mrs. Hare remarked.

“No, because I think this German King has no share in the spirit of his country,” Irons answered.  “Our ancient respect for human rights and fair play is not in this man.”

He presented his reasons for the opinion and while the woman made no answer, she had heard for the first time the argument of the New World and was impressed by it.

Late in the day they came out on a rough road, faring down into the settled country and that night they stopped at a small inn.  At the supper table a wizened old woman was telling fortunes in a tea cup.

Miss Hare and her mother drained their cups and passed them to the old woman.  The latter looked into the cup of the young lady and immediately her tongue began to rattle.

“Two ways lie before you,” she piped in a shrill voice.  “One leads to happiness and many children and wealth and a long life.  It is steep and rough at the beginning and then it is smooth and peaceful.  Yes.  It crosses the sea.  The other way is smooth at the start and then it grows steep and rough and in it I see tears and blood and dark clouds and, do you see that?” she demanded with a look of excitement, as she pointed into the cup.  “It is a very evil thing.  I will tell you no more.”

The wizened old woman rose and, with a determined look in her face, left the room.

Mrs. Hare and her daughter seemed to be much troubled by the vision of the fortune-teller.

“I hope you do not believe in that kind of rubbish,” John Irons remarked.

“I believe implicitly in the gift of second sight,” said Mrs. Hare.  “In England women are so impatient to know their fortunes that they will not wait upon Time, and the seers are prosperous.”

“I have no faith in it,” said Mr. Irons.  “What she said might apply to the future of any young person.  Undoubtedly there are two ways ahead of your daughter and perhaps more.  Each must choose his own way wisely or come to trouble.  It is the ancient law.”