It was almost noon when Jessica Pomeroy and Elizabeth arrived at the Pomeroy property, about midway between Hampton and Newport News. Germinal Washington, an old negro who had been in the service of her father and whom Jessica had picked up on landing at Old Point Comfort, had stopped off at Hampton to bring along needed groceries and other living necessities in his trap, drawn by the rawboned, halting quadruped that he fondly conceived was a horse.
Jessica and the old woman retainer, Elizabeth, had continued their way on foot for the additional two and a half or three miles to the Pomeroy estate. Both of them knew the way well, and every foot of the road was reminiscent of ancient memories to both of them. It was early autumn in Virginia; the way was a riot of color and breeze, winding away yellowly in the direction of the hills like a sinuous snake headed for the sunset. The road was dry and hard, a perfect highway for the millions of colored leaves that fled before the wind. In front of their feet a scared rabbit scudded from one side of the path to the other, to lose himself instantly in the underbrush. A red-bellied woodpecker looked at the passersby speculatively an instant, to fly off at last in haste and violent indignation at this unwarranted intrusion.
