place named Monticello."

"I know," said Lewis Rand, "I've been to Monticello. When I am a man I
am going to have a house like it, with a terrace and white pillars and a
library. But I shall have a flower garden like the one at Fontenoy."

"Ho! your house! Is Fontenoy where Ludwell Cary lives?"

"No; he lives at Greenwood. The Churchills live at Fontenoy.--Now we'll
go see the Guard turn out. Is that the apple-woman yonder? I've a
half-a-bit left."

An hour later, having bought the apples, and seen the pillared Capitol,
and respectfully considered the outside of Chancellor Wythe's law
office, and having parted until the afternoon with Tom Mocket, who
professed an engagement on the Barbadoes brig, young Lewis Rand betook
himself to the Bird in Hand. There in the bare, not over clean chamber
which had been assigned to the party from Albemarle, he deposited his
precious parcel first in the depths of an ancient pair of saddle-bags,
then, thinking better of it, underneath the straw mattress of a small
bed. It was probable, he knew, that even there his father might discover
the treasure. What would follow discovery he knew full Well. The beating
he could take; what he wouldn't stand would be, say, Gideon's flinging
the books into the fire. "He shan't, he shan't," said the boy's hot
heart. "If he does, I'll--I'll--"

Through the window came Gaudylock's voice from the porch of the Bird in
Hand. "You Stay-at-homes--you don't know what's in the wilderness!
There's good and there's bad, and there's much beside. It's like the
sea--it's uncharted."