ld as well widen the way between Scylla and Charybdis--or Mahomet's
Bridge to Paradise--or Thomas Jefferson's Natural Bridge! Pshaw!" He
began to build from the five of clubs.

"A detour can be made," said Colonel Dick.

"Around the Blue Ridge?" asked the Major scornfully. "Pshaw! And it
passes my comprehension what a stage-coach would do in that country.
There are not ten houses on that cart track."

"Nonsense! there are fifty."

"Fifty-three, I assure you, sir."

The Major laid down his cards and turned in his chair. "I counted every
structure the last time I was on that road. Taking in Fagg's Mill and
Brown's Ferry and the Mountain Schoolhouse, there are just ten houses.
It is my habit, sir, to reckon accurately."

Mr. Hunter grew red. "But, sir, the count was taken before the last
election, and fifty-three--"

"Ten, sir!" said the Major, and placed the queen of diamonds.

"When did you ride that way, Edward?" queried his brother. "I don't
believe you've been across the mountain since the war."

"I was on that road in '87," said the Major. "I rode that way on the
sixth of April with Clark. And there are ten houses; I counted them."

"But good Lord, sir, this is 1804!"

The Major's hawk eyes, dark and bright beneath shaggy brows, regarded
Mr. Ned Hunter with disfavour. "I am aware, sir, that this is 1804," he
said, and placed the king of diamonds.

Jacqueline arose from her chair beside the open window, softly crossed
the floor, and touched Colonel Churchill upon the arm. "Uncle Dick," she
murmured, and with the slightest of gestures indicated Rand standing in
the door.

Colonel Churchill started, precipitantly left Mr. Hunter, and crossed
the floor to his guest of two weeks. "My dear sir, you came in so
quietly! I welcome you downstairs. Gilmer says you're a strong fighter.
When I was thrown at that same turn coming home from a wedding, I
believe I was in bed for a month!--Allow me to present you to my
nieces--Miss Churchill, Miss Dandridge. My poor wife, you know, never
leaves her chamber. Mr. Ned Hunter, Mr. Rand. Mr. Fairfax Cary I think
you know, and my brother Edward."

The young men's greeting, if somewhat constrained, was courteous. Major
Churchill played the card which he held in his hand, then slowly rose,
came stiffly from behind the small table, and made an elaborate bow.
There was in his acknowledgment of the honour of Mr. Rand's acquaintance
so much accent, cruelty, and hauteur that the