The Heart

As we came up with Mary, she looked at us over her shoulder with a

brightness of triumph and withal something of merriment, like a

child successful in mischief, and laughed, and waved her hand in

which, as I live, she held a sword which had long graced the hall at

Drake Hill, and I believe she meditated cutting the tobacco herself.

Then a great cheer went up for her, in which we, in spite of our

misgivings, joined. Something so wonderful and innocent there was in

the fresh enthusiasm of the maid. Then again her sweet voice rang

out: "Down with the tobacco, gentlemen of Virginia, and down with all

tyranny. Remember Nathaniel Bacon, remember Nathaniel Bacon!"

Then we all caught up that last cry of hers, and the air rang with

"Remember Nathaniel Bacon!"

But as soon as might be, I rode close enough to speak with Mary

Cavendish, and Sir Humphrey, who was on the other side, each with

our jealousy lost sight of, in our concern for her.

"Child, thou must turn and go home," I said, and I fear my voice

lost its firmness, for I was half mad with admiration, and love, and

apprehension for her.

Then Sir Humphrey echoed me.

"The militia will be upon us presently," he shouted in her ear above

the din. "Ride home as fast as you may."

She looked from one to the other of us, and laughed gayly and shook

her head, and her golden curls flew to the wind, and she touched

Merry Roger with her whip and he bounded ahead, and we had all we

could do to keep pace, he being fresh. Then Parson Downs pelted to

her side and besought her to turn, and so did Captain Jaynes, though

he was half laughing with delight at her spirit, and his bright eyes

viewed her in such wise that I could scarce keep my fingers from his

throat. But Mary Cavendish would hear to none, and no way there was

of turning her, lest we dragged her from her saddle.

Again I rode close and spoke so that no one beside her could hear.

"Go home, I pray you, if you love me," I said.

But she looked at me with a proud defiance, and such a spirit of a

man that I marvelled at her.

"'Tis no time to talk of love, sir," said she. "When a people strike

for liberty, they stop not for honey nor kisses."

Then she cried again, "Remember Nathaniel Bacon!" And again that

wild shout echoed her silver voice.