"
The Governor's round eyes grew rounder. Young Hamor, a-tiptoe
behind him, drew a long, low whistle.
"In so small a community," went on my lord, "sure you must all
know one another. There can be no masks worn, no false colors
displayed. Everything must be as open as daylight. But we all have
a past as well as a present. Now, for instance" -
I interrupted him. "In Virginia, my lord, we live in the present. At
present, my lord, I like not the color of your lordship's cloak."
He stared at me, with his black brows drawn together. "It is not of
your choosing nor for your wearing, sir," he rejoined haughtily.
"And your sword knot is villainously tied," I continued. "And I like
not such a fire-new, bejeweled scabbard. Mine, you see, is out at
heel."
"I see," he said dryly.
"The pinking of your doublet suits me not, either," I declared. "I
could make it more to my liking," and I touched his Genoa
three-pile with the point of my rapier.
A loud murmur arose from the crowd, and the Governor started
forward, crying out, "Captain Percy! Are you mad?"
"I was never saner in my life, sir," I answered. "French fashions
like me not, - that is all, - nor Englishmen that wear them. To my
thinking such are scarcely true-born."
That thrust went home. All the world knew the story of my late
Lord Carnal and the waiting woman in the service of the French
ambassador's wife.
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