headpiece in hand, stepped forward; the other swept off his Spanish hat; both bowed profoundly.

“I speak to his Honor the Governor of Virginia?” inquired the newcomer. His tone was offhand, his hat already back upon his head.

“I am George Yeardley, at my Lord Carnal’s service,” answered the Governor.

The favorite raised his eyebrows. “I don’t need to introduce myself, it seems,” he said. “You’ve found that I am not the devil, after all, — at least not the Spanish Apollyon. Zooks! a hawk above a poultry yard could n’t have caused a greater commotion than did my poor little ship and my few poor birding pieces! Does every strange sail so put you through your paces?”