Of the ruder sort who had
crowded to the church, many were already on the point of departure,
mounting their horses, preparing for a race to the nearest tavern and
newspaper. "Gentlemen," exclaimed Rand, "if it's true news--if we have
indeed to deplore General Hamilton's death--"

"'Deplore!'" cried Mocket.

"'Deplore!'" echoed bluntly a Republican of prominence. "Don't let's be
hypocrites, Mr. Rand. We'll leave the Federalists to 'deplore'--"

"Oh, I'll deplore him with pleasure!" cried a third. "It won't hurt to
drop a tear--but for all that it's the greatest news since 1800!"

"Hip, hip, hurrah!"

"Weehawken! where's Weehawken? What's Burr in hiding for? Can't a
gentleman fight a duel? Let him come down here, and we'll give him a
triumph!"

"'Deplore!'"--

"I chose my word badly," said Rand, with the good-nature that always
disarmed; "I shall not weep over my enemy, I only mean that I would not
ignobly exult. Of course, sir, it is great news--the very greatest! And
all here will now want the leisure of the day."

"Tell them, Lewis, that I'll excuse them," said Cousin Jane Selden. "We
won't have a feast on the day of a funeral."

* * * * *

A little later, deep in the embrace of the old Selden coach, husband and
wife began their journey to the house on the Three-Notched Road. In the
minutes that followed the disposal of their wedding guests it had been
settled that they would not return to Mrs. Selden's--it was best to go
home instead. Cousin Jane would take Deb; Unity must return at once to
Fontenoy. Hamilton and Edward Churchill had served together on
Washington's staff; of late years they had seldom met, but the
friendship remained. Unity knew, but would not speak of it, that Uncle
Edward had finished, only the night before, a long letter to his old
comrade-at-arms. With the exception of Deb, all the little party were
aware that Jacqueline Rand's chances for forgiveness from her uncles
were measurably slighter for this day's tidings. She seemed dazed, pale
as her gown, but very quiet. She held Deb in her arms, and kissed Unity
and Cousin Jane Selden. Her husband lifted her into the coach, wrung the
others' hands, and followed her. "Good-bye, Lewis," said Mrs. Selden at
the door. "I'll send a bowl of arrack to your men, and I'll ride over
to-morrow to see Jacqueline. Good-bye, children, and God bless you
both!"

The coach and four took the dusty road. A turn, and Saint Ma