When the gold piece was held out to her, she took it, having earned it;
when the little speech with which the lady gave the guinea was ended, she
was ready with her curtsy and her "Thank you, ma'am." The red came into
her cheeks because she was not used to so many eyes upon her, but she did
not blush for her bare feet, nor for her dress that had slipped low over
her shoulder, nor for the fact that she had run her swiftest five times
around the Maypole, all for the love of a golden guinea, and for mere
youth and pure-minded ignorance, and the springtime in the pulses.
The gold piece lay within her brown fingers a thought too lightly, for as
she stepped back from the row of gentlefolk it slid from her hand to the
ground. A gentleman, sitting beside the lady who had spoken to her,
stooped, and picking up the money gave it again into her hand. Though she
curtsied to him, she did not look at him, but turned away, glad to be quit
of all the eyes, and in a moment had slipped into the crowd from which she
had come. It was midday, and old Israel, the fisherman, who had brought
her and the Widow Constance's Barbara up the river in his boat, would be
going back with the tide. She was not loath to leave: the green meadow,
the gaudy Maypole, and the music were good, but the silence on the river,
the shadow of the brooding forest, the darting of the fish hawk, were
better.
In the meadow the boys' race and the rustic dance were soon over. The
dinner at the Jaquelin house to its guests lasted longer, but it too was
hurried; for in the afternoon Mr. Harrison's mare Nelly was to run against
Major Burwell's Fearnaught, and the stakes were heavy.
Not all of the company went from the banquet back to the meadow, where the
humbler folk, having eaten their dinner of bread and meat and ale, were
whiling away with sports of their own the hour before the race. Colonel
Byrd had business at Williamsburgh, and must reach his lodgings there an
hour before sunset. His four black horses brought to the door the great
vermilion-and-cream coach; an ebony coachman in scarlet cracked his whip
at a couple of negro urchins who had kept pace with the vehicle as it
lumbered from the stables, and a light brown footman flung open the door
and lowered the steps. The Colonel, much regretting that occasion should
call him away, vowed that he had never spent a pleasanter May Day, kissed
the May Queen's hand, and was prodigal of well-turned compliments, like
the gay and gallant gentleman that he was. His daughter made her graceful
adieux in her clear, low, and singularly sweet voice, and together they
were swallowed up of the mammoth coach. Mr. Haward took snuff with Mr.
Jaquelin; then, mounting his horse,--it was supposed that he too had
business in Williamsburgh,--raised his hat and bade farewell to the
company with one low and comprehensive bow.