ak, and trembled when he thought of
Lisbeth's peril; yet he was conscious that he had borne himself well.
Then he fell to wondering who young Enderwood might be. Rodney had
only seen in the dim light that he was young, not much older than
himself, and apparently a gentleman. Enderwood? Why, he must be Squire
Enderwood's son, from Norfolk. If so, he had both family and fortune,
and somehow the idea didn't please Rodney, though why should he
begrudge young Enderwood such an inheritance?

The following morning Rodney set out for "The Hall." He felt he could
ill spare the time but nevertheless was glad of the opportunity,
though he dreaded the meeting with the squire. His father might be
alive at that moment but for the injustice of Lisbeth's father.

The sun shone brightly but the air was clear and cold. From a light
rain of the previous night icicles had formed on the trees and gleamed
like so many jewels. It seemed to the boy as though he had dreamed a
long dream of wild forests, peopled with Indians, and was now awake
and at home.

When Rodney arrived at "The Hall" he was met by the squire, who came
to him with outstretched hands, saying, "My boy, you are a brave lad,
and have placed me under greater obligations than I can ever hope to
repay. I will write your father and tell him how grateful I am, and
how proud he should be of you."

"My father is dead, sir; he was killed in the battle at Point
Pleasant."

"You--you--er--I'm astounded! I hadn't heard a word. Why, only the
other day I was thinking of him."

The unmistakable signs of grief in the squire's face somewhat softened
Rodney's feelings. "You know Charlottesville did not afford father the
opportunity to provide for his family as he wished and so he went over
the mountains to take up land. When I was on my way to him I was
captured by the Indians and held for a year. Meanwhile father,
thinking I was dead, joined the army under General Lewis."

"I never should have let him go away. I've wished him back every day
since he went away," and then the squire turned and walked to the
window, where Mogridge had watched the effect of his plot and seen
David Allison turn his back and walk away never to return.

At this moment Enderwood came into the room. He was a fine looking
fellow of nearly twenty, straight and rather tall, with dark hair and
eyes, and had an air of breeding. Greeting Rodney cordially, as he
looked at him keenly, he said, "Aunt Betty requested