two horses instead of
one!"

Cary, sitting moodily attentive, chin in hand, and his eyes upon the
sunny road, started violently. "Two horses instead of one," he repeated,
with a catch of the breath. In a moment he was upon his feet, and the
innkeeper, had he looked up and had he been less blear-eyed and dull,
might have seen an approach to the old Fairfax Cary--colour in cheek and
light in eye.

"I am your debtor, Mr. Cross. That's it--that's precisely it! You heard
it asserted by all around you that he had gone by, and your keen mind
arrived at the same conclusion. You saw and heard--in a fog--the negro
boy, and later on your strong imagination provided him with a companion.
Just that--you thought you saw two where there was but one! I'm your
servant, Mr. Cross, your very humble, very obliged servant!"

He drew out his purse, abstracted from it all the gold it contained, and
gently slid the pieces into the hand which happened to rest upon the
steps in an apt position for their reception. "A trifle of drink-money,
Mr. Cross! If I might suggest a toast, I would have you drink to the
next Governor of Virginia! Good-day, Mr. Cross, good-day! I think I
begin to remember."

He mounted and rode away. "I begin to remember--I begin to remember. The
boy and I were not always together upon the main road! Did we part at
the guide-post? Then where did we come together again?"

He rode through March wind and sun, by fields where men were ploughing
and copses where the bloodroot bloomed, beneath the branches of a great
blasted oak, and past a red bank shelving down to the road from the
forest above, then on by Red Fields, and so at last into
Charlottesville. Here he turned at once to the office of an agent and
man of business much respected in Albemarle.

Mr. Smith rubbed his hands and asked what he could do for Mr. Cary--who
was looking well, extremely well! "Spring is here, sir, spring is here!
We all feel it. On a day like this I cultivate my garden, sir!"

"I also," said Cary. "Mr. Smith, my affair is short. I will thank you to
keep it secret also. I want to buy, if possible, a negro boy called
Young Isham, who is owned by Lewis Rand. You may offer any price, but my
name is not to appear. Manage it skilfully, Mr. Smith, but manage it! I
have reasons for wishing to own the boy. You will bear it in mind that
my name is not to appear as purchaser."

An hour later, nearing the Greenwood gates, he saw before him another
hor