Their leader settled the question by announcing that, Mr.
Mason's suggestion finding favor in his sight, they would forthwith dismount, dine, drink red wine and white, and wear out the heat of the day in this sylvan paradise until four of the clock, when the trumpet should sound for the mount; also, that if the goodwife and her daughter would do them the honor to partake of their rustic fare, their healths should be drunk in nothing less than Burgundy.
As he spoke he swung himself from the saddle, pulled out his ruffles, and raised his hat.

"Ladies, permit me,"-- a wave of his hand toward his escort, who were now also on foot.

"Colonel Robertson, Captain Clonder, Captain Brooke, Mr.Haward, Mr.Beverley, Dr.Robinson, Mr.Fontaine, Mr.
Todd, Mr.Mason,--all of the Tramontane Order.

For myself, I am Alexander Spotswood, at your service." The pioneer, standing behind his wife, plucked her by the sleeve.

"Ecod, Alce, 't is the Governor himself! Mind your manners!" Alce, who had been a red-cheeked dairymaid in a great house in England, needed no admonition.