Mrs. Fisher's best wishes, an' she moughty glad to hab a neighbour, an'
she done sont de broiled chicken. An' Mr. Hay, he done sont de oysters
wid he compliments--an' de two bottles Madeira Mr. Ritchie sont--an' Mr.
Randolph lef' de birds, an' he gwine come roun' fust thing in de
mawnin'--"

"We shall have friends," said Rand. "I am glad for you, sweetheart. But
I wish that one Federalist had had the grace to remember that Jacqueline
Churchill came to town to-day."

"Ah, once I would have cared," answered Jacqueline. "It does not matter
now."

"There's a tear on your hand--"

Jacqueline laughed. "At least, it doesn't matter much.--Is that all,
Joab?"

"An' Marse Ludwell Cary, he ride erroun in de rain an' leave he
compliments for Marse Lewis, an' he say will Miss Jacqueline 'cept dese
yer flowers--"

"One remembered," said Rand, and watched his wife put the flowers in
water.

CHAPTER XIV

THE LAW OFFICE

"If you were not so damned particular--" said the weasel disconsolately.

"I'm not damned particular," answered Rand. "I've wanted wealth and I've
wanted power ever since I went barefoot and suckered tobacco--as you
know who know me better than almost any one else! But this"--he tapped
the papers on the table before him--"this is cheating."

"Oh, you!" complained the scamp. "You are of the elect. What you want
you'll take by main force. You are a strong man! You've taken a deal
since that day we went into the bookshop by the bridge. But I'm no
Samson or David--I'm just Tom Mocket--and still, why shouldn't I have my
pennyworth?"

Rand paused in his walking up and down the office in Main Street. It was
the late winter, a year and more from that evening when he and
Jacqueline had first come to the house on Shockoe Hill. Standing by the
rough deal table, he laid an authoritative hand upon the documents with
which it was strewn. "You'll never get your pennyworth here. The scheme
these gentry have afoot is just a Yazoo business. If these lands exist,
they're only a hunting-ground of swamp, Indians, and buffalo. The survey
is paper, the cleared fields a fable, the town Manoa, the scheme a
bubble, the purchasers fools, and the sellers knaves,--and there's your
legal opinion in a nutshell!"

"I didn't ask for a legal opinion," said Mocket. "I'm a lawyer myself.
There's land there, you'll not deny, and a river, and plenty of game If
a Yankee doesn't find it Paradise, he had no chance anyhow, and a
Ken