If Virginia and all that it contained, save only that jewel of which it had robbed the court, were out of favor with the King’s minion, he showed it not. Perhaps he had accepted the inevitable with a good grace; perhaps it was but his mode of biding his time; but he had shifted into that soldierly frankness of speech and manner, that genial, hail-fellow-well-met air, behind which most safely hides a villain’s mind. Two days after that morning behind the church, he had removed himself, his French valets, and his Italian physician from the Governor’s house to the newly finished guest house. Here he lived, cock of the walk, taking his ease in his inn, elbowing out all guests save those of his own inviting.

If, what with his open face and his open hand, his dinners and bear-baitings and hunting parties, his