vote. Mark off his name!"

"Sir!" cried the challenged voter, "I am a de Pincornet, cadet of a
house well known in Gascony! If I left France, I left it to find a great
and free country, a country where one gentleman may serve another!"

A roar of laughter, led by Mocket, arose from the younger and lower sort
of Republicans. "But you do serve, Mr. Pincornet! You teach all the
'Well-born' how to dance!"

"Didn't you teach the Carys? They dance beautifully."

"Are brocaded coats still worn in Gascony?"

"_Ne sutor supra crepidam judicaret!_ Caper all you please on a waxed
floor, but leave Virginians to rule!"

Fairfax Cary, hot and angry, put in an oar. "Mr. Sheriff, Mr. Sheriff!
Mr. Pincornet has lived these twelve years in Albemarle! We have no more
respected, no more esteemed citizen. His vote's as good as any
man's--and rather better, I may remark, than that of some men!" He
looked pointedly at Mocket.

Lewis Rand gave his henchman a second guiding glance.

"It is merely," said Mocket promptly, "a question of that Alien Law of
which the 'Well-born' are so proud. Show your papers, Mr. Pincornet. If
you are a citizen of the United States, you have papers to show for it."

"Yes, sir," agreed the sheriff. "That's right, Mr. Mocket. Let me see