ILLUSTRATIONS

I will make court to you in a court some day (Frontispiece)

You are a scoundrel

Cary saw and flung out his arm, swerving his horse, but too late

Drink to me only with thine eyes






CHAPTER I

THE ROAD TO RICHMOND


The tobacco-roller and his son pitched their camp beneath a gum tree
upon the edge of the wood. It was October, and the gum was the colour of
blood. Behind it rolled the autumn forest; before it stretched a level
of broom-sedge, bright ochre in the light of the setting sun. The road
ran across this golden plain, and disappeared in a league-deep wood of
pine. From an invisible clearing came a cawing of crows. The sky was
cloudless, and the evening wind had not begun to blow. The small,
shining leaves of the gum did not stir, and the flame of the camp-fire