So I left them, Mistress Catherine at the flax-wheel, and Mary out in the garden with Sir Humphrey, gathering roses for the potpourri jars, and the distilling into rosewater, for little idleness was permitted at Drake Hill even after a ball.  I got my horse, but as I started forth Madam Cavendish called—­a stiffly resolute old figure standing in the great doorway, and I dismounted and went to her, leading my horse, which I had great ado to keep from nibbling the blossoms of a rose tree which grew over the porch.  “Harry,” she said in a whisper, “where is Mary?”

“In the garden with Sir Humphrey Hyde,” I answered.

Then Madam Cavendish frowned.  “And why is she not at her lessons?” she asked sternly.

“The lessons are set for the afternoon, and this morning she is gathering rose leaves, Madam,” I answered; but that Madam Cavendish knew as well as I, having in truth so ordered the hours of the lessons.

“But,” she said, hesitating, then she stopped, and looked at me with an angry indecision, and then at the garden, where the top of Mary’s golden head was just visible above the pink mist of the roses, and Sir Humphrey’s fair one bending over it.  “Harry,” she said, frowning, and yet with a piteous sort of appeal.  “Why do you not go out into the garden and help to gather the rose leaves?” Then, before I could answer, as if angry with herself at her own folly, she called out to Mary’s little black maid, Sukey, to bid her mistress come in from the garden and spin.  But before the maid started I said low in Madam Cavendish’s ear:  “Madam, think you not that the sweet air of the garden is better for her after the ball, than the hot ball and the labour at the wheel?” And she gave one look at me, and called out to Sukey that she need not speak to her mistress, and went inside to her own work and left me to go my way.  I was relieved in my mind that she did not ask me whither, since, if she had, I should have been driven to one of those broadsides of falsehood in a good cause for which I regret the necessity, but admit it, and if it be to my soul’s hurt, I care not, so long as I save the other party by it.

I was bound for Barry Upper Branch, and rode thither as fast as I could, for I contemplated asking the Barry brothers to aid me in the removal of Mistress Mary’s contraband goods, and was anxious to lose no more time about that than I could avoid.

I was set upon Major Robert Beverly’s tomb as a most desirable hiding place for them, and knowing that there was a meeting of the Assembly that evening at the governor’s, to discuss some matters in private before he sailed for England, Major Beverly being clerk, I thought that before the moon was up would be a favourable time for the removal, but I could not move the goods alone, remembering how those sturdy sailors tugged at them, and not deeming it well to get any aid from the slaves.

So I rode straight to Barry Upper Branch, and a handsome black woman in a flaunting gown, with a great display of beads, and an orange silk scarf twisted about her head, came to parley with me, and told me that both the brothers were away, and added that she thought I should find them at the tavern.