you h'yar, thar war no braver officer in Lee's corps, nor in the whole
Virginnee line, than young Captain Forrester."

"Here," said Roland, looking as if what he said cost him a painful
effort, "lies the second error,--your considering me, as you manifestly
do, the heir of your old major, my uncle Roland,--which I am not."

"Lord!" said the worthy Bruce, "he was the richest man in
Prince-George, and he had thousands of fat acres in the Valley, the
best in all Fincastle, as I know very well, for I war a Fincastle man
myself; and thar war my old friend Braxley,--he war a lieutenant under
the major at Braddock's, and afterwards his steward, and manager, and
lawyer-like,--who used to come over the Ridge to see after them. But I
see how it is; he left all to the young lady?"

"Not an acre," said Roland.

"What!" said the Kentuckian: "he left no children of his own. Who then is
the heir?"

"Your old friend, as you call him, Richard Braxley. And hence you see,"
continued the youth, as if desirous to change the conversation, "that I
come to Kentucky, an adventurer and fortune-hunter, like other emigrants,
to locate lands under proclamation-warrants and bounty-grants, to fell
trees, raise corn, shoot bisons and Indians, and, in general, do any
thing else that can be required of a good Virginian or good Kentuckian."

It was evidently the captain's wish now to leave altogether the subject
on which he had thought it incumbent to acquaint his host with so much;
but the worthy Bruce was not so easily satisfied; and not conceiving