"Here's one," I replied, and had lighted the pipe when he said: "Saw her to-day, Bill—saw her riding along the road with Dan Stuart. She didn't even look over in the field toward me, but he waved his hand, and I saw more hatred than friendship in it. Blame it all, Bill, I'm not going to follow a plow through the dirt all the time. I can do something better, and after this crop's laid by I'm going to do it. I don't think that she wants to marry a farmer."

"What does Stuart do?" I asked. "How can he afford to be riding about when other men are at work?"

"Oh, I guess he's pretty well fixed. He's got a lot of negroes working for him and he raises a good deal of tobacco. No, sir, she didn't even look toward me."

"But haven't you passed her house when you were almost afraid to look toward the porch when you knew that she was standing there?"

"Of course I have!" he cried. "Yes, sir, I've done that many a time—just pretended that I had business everywhere else but on that porch. Ain't it strange how love does take hold of a fellow? It gets into his heart and his heart shoots it to the very ends of his fingers; it gets into his eyes, and he can't see anything but love, love everywhere. It may catch you one of these days, Bill, and when it does, you'll know just how I feel."

I looked at this strong and honest man, this man idolizing an image that he had enshrined in his soul, and I thought to tell him that, with my forehead touching the ground, I had worshiped his sister, but no, it was too delicate a confidence—I would keep it to myself.

We were astir in the dawn the next day, ate breakfast by the light of a lamp, but Guinea was not at the table, and I loitered there after the others were gone out, hoping to see her, but she did not come, and then I remembered that Mrs. Jucklin was also absent, and that the services of the meal had been performed by a negro woman.

When I returned at evening, with the droning of the children's voices echoing in my ears, it seemed to me that I had been gone an age. I came again by the spring, but Guinea was not there, but I heard her singing as I drew near to the house. She was in the passage, gleefully dancing, with a broom for a partner. When she saw me she threw down the broom and ran away, laughing; but she came back when she found that I had really discovered her. "You must think that I am the silliest creature in the world," she said, "and I don't know that I can dispute you. Millie Lundsford has just gone home. She and I have been going through with our old-time play, when, with window curtains wound about us to represent long dresses, and with brooms to personate the brave knights who had rescued us from the merciless Turks, we danced in the castle. And I was just taking a turn with a duke when you came. What a knight you would have been."

"And what an inspiration I should have had to drive me onward and to set my soul aflame with ambition," I replied, looking into her eyes.

It must have been my look rather than my words that threw a change over her; my manner must have told her that I was becoming too serious for one who had known her so short a time, but be that as it may, a change had come upon her. She was no longer a girl, gay and airy, with a romping spirit, but a woman, dignified.

"Has your work been hard to-day?" she asked.

"It has been more or less stupid, as it always is," I answered, slowly walking with her toward the dining-room.

When we had sat down to the table Alf came in with his new clothes on, and whispering to me when his sister had turned to say something to her mother, he said: "Got something to tell you when we go up stairs."

Mrs. Jucklin was afraid that I did not eat enough; she had heard that brain workers required much food; her uncle, who had been a justice of the peace, had told her that it made but small difference what he ate while engaged in getting out saw logs, but that when he began to meditate over a case in court he required the most stimulating provender. "And now," she said, "if there's anything that I can fix for you, do, please, let me know what it is. Now, Guinea, what are you titterin' at? And that negro woman doesn't half do her work, either. I declare to goodness I'd rather do everything on the place than to see her foolin' round as if she's afraid to take hold of anything; and her fingers full of brass rings, too. I jest told her that she'd have to take 'em off, that I didn't want to eat any brass. Laws a massy, niggers are jest as different from what they was as day is from night. Talk to me about freedom helpin' 'em. But the Lord knows best," she added, with a sigh of resignation. "If He wants 'em to be free, why, no one ought to complain, and goodness knows I don't. Yes, they ought to be free," she went on after a moment of reflection. "Oh, it was a sin and a shame to sell 'em away from their children. But it's all over now, thank God. Now, I wonder where your father is, Alf. Never saw sich a man in my life. Looks jest like he begrudges time enough to eat. There he comes now."

The old man came in, covered with dirt. "Alf, is the shot gun loaded?" he asked, brushing himself.

"Yes, sir. Why?" We looked at the old fellow, wondering what he meant, but he made no explanation. Alf repeated his question. "Why?" And the old man exclaimed: "Oh, nothin'. Jest goin' to blow that red steer's head off, that's all. Confound his hide. I wish I may die this minute if I ever had sich a jolt in my life. Went along by him, not sayin' a word to him, and if he didn't up and let me have both heels I'm the biggest liar that ever walked a log. Hadn't done a thing to him, mind you; walkin' along 'tendin' to my own business, when both of his heels flew at me. And I'll eat a bite and then go and blow his head off."

"Oh, Limuel," his wife protested; "a body to hear you talk would think that you don't do anything at all but thirst for blood. If the Lord puts it in the mind of a steer to kick you, why, it ain't the poor creeter's fault."

The old man snorted. "And if the Lord puts it in my mind to kill the steer it ain't my fault, muther. Conscience alive, what are we all dressed up so about?" he added, looking at Alf. "So much stile goin' on that a body don't know whuther he's a shuckin' corn or is at a picnic. Blow his head off as soon as I eat a bite."

I could see that Alf was anxious to tell me something, and immediately after supper I went up stairs with him. He took off his coat, and after dusting it carefully hung it up and sat down. He looked at me as if he were delighted with the curiosity that I was showing, and then as he reached for his pipe he began: "I was a-plowing out in the field about three hours by sun, when I saw Millie come out of the valley like a larkspur straightening up in the spring of the year, and after waiting a while, but always with my eye on the house, I quit work, slipped up here and dressed myself so as to be ready to walk home with her. I was rather afraid to ask her at first, knowing that this was breaking away from all my former strings and announcing my determination of keeping company with her, out and out, and I don't know exactly how I got at it, but I did, and the first thing I knew I was walking down the road with her. And this time I do remember what she said, but there wasn't anything so encouraging in it. The fact is she had something to tell me about you."

"About me? What can she know about me? Probably she was giving you her father's estimate of me."

"No, but somebody else's estimate," he replied. "You recollect a fellow named Bentley?"

"Bentley? Of course, I do. We lived on adjoining farms, and I have a sore cause to remember him. But how could she have heard anything about him?"

"Well, I'll tell you. Mrs. Bentley is old man Aimes' sister, and she's over here now on a visit, and when she heard that you were teaching school in the neighborhood she declared that it would be a mercy if you didn't kill somebody before you got through. And then she told that you had waylaid her son one night and come mighty nigh killing him. She said that she was perfectly willing to forgive you until she saw the scar left on her son's forehead, and a woman can't very well forgive a scar, you know. Old Aimes and all his sons are slaughter-house dogs, and they appeared to take up a hatred against you at once. Don't you remember as we drove to the school a boy threw a chunk at us as we were passing a clearing and swore that he could whip us both? Well, that was the youngest Aimes, and the trick now is, as I understand it, to send him to school with instructions to do pretty much as he pleases and to take revenge on you in case you whip him. Millie said that her father swore that it was a shame and that if you wanted any help from him you could get it. Nobody likes the Aimes family. Came in here several years ago, and have been kicking up disturbances ever since."

I told Alf why I had snatched Bentley off his horse, nor in the least did I shield myself. I even called myself a brute. But I told him of the season of sorrow and humiliation through which I had passed, that I had insisted upon giving Bentley the only valuable thing I possessed, that against his mother's command I had striven to work for him during the time he was laid up, and that I had even plowed his field at night.

"I don't know that you were so far wrong in beating him in the first place," said Alf, "but if you were, your course afterward should have more than atoned for it. By gracious, I feel that if some one would plow for me I'd let him maul me until he got tired. Millie said that she was afraid that something might happen to get you into trouble. She seemed a good deal concerned about it, for I reckon she's got the noblest and purest heart of any human being now in the world, and she said that she thought that if you were to give up the school her father could make some arrangements for you to study law in Purdy, the county seat. I told her that you would be delighted to quit teaching under ordinary circumstances, but that just at present you'd teach or die. Was I right?"

"Surely, and I thank you for having defined my position. I wonder if we can commit an innocent error, an error that will lie asleep and never rise up to confront us? Now, I shall have a fine reputation in this neighborhood."

"Oh, don't let that worry you, Bill. It'll come out all right. I'd be willing to have almost any sort of name if it would influence that girl to talk in my favor as she did in yours. I don't know what to think; somehow I can't find out her opinion of me. I slily spoke about that fellow, Dan Stuart, but she didn't say a word. Confound it, Bill, can't a woman see that she's got a fellow on the gridiron? They can't even bear to see a hog suffer, but they can smile and look unconcerned while a man is writhing over the coals. I don't understand it."

"Nor do I, Alf, but I've been over the coals—I mean that I can well imagine what it is to be there."

He lay down, and with his head far back on the pillow, looked upward as if with his gaze he would bore through the roof and reach the stars. He was silent for a long time, but when I had blown out the light and had gone to bed, thinking that he was asleep, I heard him muttering.

"Talking to me, Alf?" He turned over with a sigh and answered: "No, not particularly. I was just wondering whether a man ought to try to outlive a disappointment in love or kill himself and end the matter. We are told that God is love, and if God is denied to a man, what's the use of trying to struggle on? I suppose the advantage of knowledge is that it enables a man to settle such questions at once, but as I am not learned, having grabbed but a little here and there, I have to worry along with a thing that another man might dismiss at once. What's your idea, Bill?"

"My idea is that a man ought never to give up; but, of course, there are times when he is so completely beaten that to fight longer is worse than useless. But learning cannot settle questions wherein the heart is involved. The philosopher may kill himself in despair, while the ignorant man may continue to fight and may finally win. The other day you spoke of something that was in your favor—something that has to do with your sister's education. Would you think it impertinent if I ask you what that something is?"

"No, I'd not think that," he answered. I had risen up in bed and was straining my eyes, trying to find his face, to study his expression, but darkness lay between us. "Not impertinent in the least, but I can't tell you just now. After a while, if you stay here long enough, you'll know all about it. Bill, if that young Aimes comes to school and begins any of his pranks, take him down and I'll stand by you, and people that know me well will tell you that I mean what I say. The old man has never been whipped yet, I mean my father, and nobody ever saw his son knock under."



CHAPTER VII.

The next morning, when with quick stride, to make up for an anxious lingering in the passage way, I hastened toward the school, I heard the gallop of a horse, and turning about, saw old General Lundsford coming like a dragoon. Upon seeing me he drew in his horse and had sobered him to a walk by the time he reached a brook, on the brink of which I halted to let him pass.

"Why, good morning, Mr. Hawes. Beautiful day, sir. I am going your way a short distance, and if you'll get up here behind me, sir, you shall ride."

I thanked him, telling him that I much preferred to walk. "All right, sir, and I will get down and walk with you until duty, sir," he said sonorously, with a bow; "until duty, sir, shall call us apart."

I urged him not to get down, telling him that I could easily keep pace with his horse, but he dismounted even before crossing the stream, preferring, he said, with another bow, to take his chances with me. And thus we walked onward, the horse following close, now and then "nosing" his master's shoulder to show his preference and his loyalty. The season was mellowing and the old gentleman was airily dressed in white, low shoes neatly polished and a Panama hat. He was delighted, he said, to hear that I was getting along so well with the school, and he knew that I would be of vast good to the community. "I have heard of the Aimes conspiracy," said he, "and I am glad that I met you, for I wanted to talk to you about it. The truth of it all is, not that you once larruped that fellow Bentley, but that old Aimes wishes to put a sly indignity upon me by misusing one who has been entertained at my house. That's the point, sir. He heard that I had given you countenance at my board, and what his sister afterward told him was an excuse for the exercise, sir, of his distemper. But, by—I came within one of swearing, sir. I used to curse like an overseer, but I joined the church not long ago, and I've been walking a tight rope ever since. But as I was about to say, you are not going to let those people humiliate you."

"I am going to do my duty," I answered, "and my duty does not tell me to be humiliated."

"Good, sir; first-rate. As a general thing, we do not look for the highest spirit in a school-teacher—pardon my frankness, for, as you know, one who is dependent upon a whole community, one who seeks to please many and varied persons, is not as likely to exhibit that independence and vigor of action which is characteristic of the man who stands solely upon honor, with nothing to appease save his own idea of right. But I forgot. The grandson of Captain Hawes needs no such homily. The Aimes family is a hard lot, sir, but a gentleman can at all times stand in smiling conquest above a tough. Scott Aimes, a burly scoundrel, and, therefore, the pet of his father, at one time threatened to chastize my son Chydister, who is now off at college. And I said not a word in reply, when my son told me of the threat. I merely pointed to a shot-gun above the library door and went on with my reading of the death notices in the newspaper. That gun is there now, sir, and whenever you want it, speak the word and it shall be yours."

I laughed to myself and thought that I must be getting on well with the old General—first the offer of his library and now of his gun—and I thanked him for the interest which he had shown in me, a mere stranger. "A well-bred Southerner is never a stranger in the South," said he. "We are held together by an affection stronger than any tie that runs from heart to heart in any other branch of the human family. But," he added, sadly shaking his head, "I fear that this affection is weakening. Our young men are becoming steeped in the strong commercial spirit of the North. I should like to continue this pleasant and elevating conversation, but here's where I am compelled to leave you."

"Can I assist you to mount?" I asked, hardly knowing what else to say. He shoved his hat back and looked at me in astonishment. "You are kind, sir, but I am not yet on the lift." But he instantly recognized that this was harsh, and with a broad smile he added: "Pardon me for my shortness of speech, but the truth is that a man who has spent much of his life in the saddle contemplates with horror the time when he must be helped to his seat."

"General, I am the one to ask pardon," I replied, bowing in my turn.

"Oh, no, I assure you!" he exclaimed, mounting his horse with more ease than I had expected to see. "It was your kindness of heart, sir; a courtesy, and though a courtesy may be a mistake, it is still a virtue. Look at that old field out there," he broke off. "Do you call that an advancement of civilization. By—the tight rope, again—it is desolation."

It seemed that while walking he had regarded me as his guest, but that now, astride his horse and I on foot, he looked upon me as a man whom he had simply met in the road.

"A return of prosperity," he said, gathering up his bridle rein, "a fine return, indeed. About another such a return and this infernal world won't be fit to live in. I wish you good morning, sir."

That very day there came to school the sullen-looking boy whom I had seen in the tobacco patch. I asked him his name and he answered that he had forgotten to bring it with him. "Perhaps," said I, "it would be well to go back and get it."

"If you want it wus'n I do I reckon you better go atter it."

This set the children to laughing. My humiliation was begun.

"I understand why you have come," said I, "and I must tell you that you must obey the rules if you stay here. What is your name?"

"Gibblits," he answered. The children laughed and he stood regarding me with a leer lurking in the corners of his evil-looking mouth.

"All right, Mr. Gibblits, where are your books?" He grinned at me and answered: "Ain't got none."

"Well, sit down over there and I'll attend to you after a while."

"Won't set down and won't be attended to."

"Well, then, I'll attend to you right now." I grabbed him by the collar, jerked him to me and boxed his jaws. He ran out howling when I turned him loose, and for a time he stood off in the woods, throwing stones at the house. The war was begun. And I expected to encounter the Aimes forces on my way home, but saw nothing of them as I passed within sight of the house. I hoped to see a look of sweet alarm on Guinea's face, when I should tell her of the danger that threatened me, and there was sweetness in her countenance, when I told her, though not a look of alarm, but a smile of amusement. Was it that she felt no interest in me? The other members of the family were much concerned, but that was no recompense for the girl's apparent indifference. The old man snorted, Mrs. Jucklin was so wrought upon that she strove to prepare me a soothing dish at supper, but Guinea remained undisturbed. I could not help but speak to Alf about it when we had gone up to our room. "Oh, you never can tell anything about her," he said. "It's not because she isn't scared, but because she hates to show a thing of that sort. I'm mighty sorry it has come about. But there's only one way out—fight out if they jump on you. I don't know how soon they intend to do anything, but I'll nose around and come over to the school this evening if I hear anything. Don't let it worry you; just put it down as a thing that couldn't be helped."

It did not worry me—the fact that I might be on the verge of serious trouble, did not; but the thought of Guinea's careless smile lay cold upon my heart, and all night I was restless under it. And when I went down stairs at dawn I met her in the passage way, carrying a light. She looked up at me, shielding the light with her hand to keep the breeze from blowing it out, and smiled, and in her smile there was no coolness, and yet there was naught to show me that she had passed an anxious night. Ah, love, we demand that you shall not only be happy, but miserable at our wish. We would dim your eye when our own is blurred; we would smother your heart when our own is heavy, and would pierce it with a pain. Upon her children this old world has poured the wisdom of her gathered ages, and could we look from another sphere we might see the minds of great men twinkling like the stars, but the human heart is yet unschooled, yet has no range of vision, but chokes and sobs in its own emotion, as it did when the first poet stood upon a hill and cried aloud to an unknown God.

Away across the valley and over the hills the peeping sun was a glaring scollop when I came out to take my course through the woods toward the school. I knew that the girl stood in the door behind me. Alf and the old man were already in the field; I could hear them talking to their horses; and Mrs. Jucklin was up stairs—Guinea and I were alone. I turned and looked at her and again she smiled.

"The world seems to be holding its breath, waiting for something to happen," she said. "To me it always appears so when there is a lull in the air just at sunrise."

"What a fanciful little creature you are," I replied.

"Little! Oh, you mustn't call me little. I'm taller than mother. I don't want to be little, although it is more appealing. I want to be commanding."

"But what can be more commanding than an appeal?" I asked.

"Yes, when the appeal is pitiful, but I don't want any one to pity me," she said, laughing. "You big folks have such a patronizing way. You don't look well this morning, Mr. Hawes. Is it because you have been worrying over those wretched Aimes boys? Won't you please forgive me?" she quickly added. "I don't know why I said that, for I ought to know that you are not afraid of them."

"I didn't sleep very well," I answered, "but I was not thinking of the Aimes boys. Shall I tell you what worried me?"

"Yes, surely."

"It may require almost an unwarranted frankness on my part, but I will tell you. It seemed to me that——" I hesitated. "Go on," she said. "Well, it seemed that you were strangely unconcerned when I told you that I was likely to have trouble with those people."

She stood with her head resting against the door-facing. I looked hard at her, striving to catch some sign of emotion, but I saw no evidence of feeling; she was cool and reserved.

"I don't know why you should have thought that," she said. "Why should I be so uncharitable. I was very sorry that anything was likely to interrupt the school."

"Oh," I replied, and perhaps with some bitterness, "it really amounts to but little—the threat of those ruffians, I mean—and to speak about it almost puts me down as a fool. I hope you will forgive me."

I hastened away, with a senseless anger in my heart, and I think that it is well that I saw no member of the Aimes family that morning on my way to school.

Everything went forward as usual; play-time came, and the children shouted in the woods, and the hour for dismissal had nearly arrived when in stalked Alf with a shot-gun. He nodded at me and took a seat far to the rear of the room, as if careful lest he might interrupt the closing ceremonies. And when the last child was gone my friend came forward, shaking his head.

"What's the trouble now?" I asked, taking down my hat.

"Put your hat right back there, unless you want to wear it in the house," he said. "I have found out that those fellows are laying for you, and it won't be safe to start home now; we'll have to wait until dark. Oh, they'll get you sure if you go now. They have been to town, I understand, and have come back pretty well loaded up with whisky. Oh, they are as bold as lions now. But we'll fix them all right. We'll wait until dark and not go by the road, and to-morrow morning we'll go over and see what they've got to say."

"Alf, I don't know how to express my thanks to you. You are running a great risk——"

"Don't mention that, Bill. You stood by me, you understand—walked right into the General's house with me, and I said to myself that if you ever got into a pinch that I'd be on hand and stand with you. Did you bring a pistol?"

"Yes, and I am very glad that I didn't meet one of those fellows as I came along. However, I should not know one of them if I were to meet him in the road."

"But you'll know them after a while. Do these doors lock?"

"I think not, or, at least, they could be easily forced open. Do you think they are likely——"

"They are likely to do anything now," he broke in. "And there are just four of them big enough to fight—of the boys, I mean, for the old man has sense enough to keep out of it."

"It is a wonder, then," said I, "that he hasn't sense enough to keep his sons out of it, as he must know that no good can be the result."

"That's all true enough," Alf replied, "but I have heard that you can't argue with the instinct of a brute, and I know that it is useless to argue with red liquor. Here, let's shove the writing desk against this door," he added. "Once more, shove again. That's it. Now we'll pile benches against the other one. We can't do anything with the windows, but must simply keep out of the way of them."

"Do you think they will shoot through them?" I asked.

He halted, with the end of a bench in his grasp, and looked at me. "Bill, if I didn't know better I'd swear that you are not of the South. Don't you know that if you enrage white trash it is likely to do anything? Don't you know that consequences are never counted?"

"I know all that," I replied, "but I was considering the incentive. I know that if you give the Cracker a cause he will do most anything, but have I given him a cause?"

"You have given him all the excuse he wants. One more bench. That's it. And now the fury of their fight will depend upon the quantity of liquor they have with them. I didn't tell any of the home folks that I was coming here—told them that I might meet you and that we might not be home until late. I wouldn't be surprised——"

Out in the woods there was the blunt bark of a short gun, the window glass was splintered in a circle, a sharp zip and a piece of the clay "chinking" flew from the opposite wall.

"What did I tell you?" said Alf, looking at me as if pleased with the proof of his forecast. "You get over on that side and I'll stay here. Get down on the floor and look through between the logs if you can find a place, and if you can't punch out the dirt, but be easy; they might see you. There he is again." The glass in the other window was shattered. "That's all right," said Alf. "They may charge on us after a while, and then we'll let them have it. Have you found a place?"

"I have made one," I answered, lying flat on the floor, gazing out. No shot had been fired from my side, and I had begun to think that the entire force was confronting Alf when in the sobering light I saw a man standing beside a tree not more than fifty yards distant. He appeared to be talking to some one, for I saw him look round and nod his head. I did not want to kill him, although the law was plainly on my side, but a man may stand shoulder to shoulder with the law and yet wound his own conscience. Another figure came within sight, among the bushes, appearing to rise out of the leafy darkness, and then there came a loud shout: "Come out of there, you coward!"

"Don't say a word," said Alf. "They are trying to locate you. I don't see anybody yet, and it's getting most too dark now. But I reckon we'd both better fire to let them know that there is more than one of us. We don't want to take any advantage of them, you know," he added, laughing.

"It doesn't look as if we were," I answered. "I could kill one of them, Alf."

"The devil you could! Then do it. Here, let me get at him."

"No," I replied, waving him off from my peep-hole. "It is better not to kill him until we are forced to."

"But we are forced to now, don't you see? They've shot at us. There you are!" They had fired a volley, it seemed. "Let me get at him," said Alf.

"I'll try him," I replied. And I poked the barrel of my pistol through the crack, pretended to take a careful aim and fired.

"Did you get him?" Alf asked.

"Don't know; can't see very well."

"Well, if I find one of them he's gone," he replied, returning to his own look-out. And a moment later the almost simultaneous discharge of both barrels of his gun jarred the house. "Don't know whether I got him or not," he said, as he drew back and began to reload, "for I couldn't see very well, but I'll bet he thinks a hurricane came along through the bushes. It's too dark now to see anything and all we can do is to wait."

"Wait for what?" I asked.

"Wait for them to try to break in. They'll try it after they have had a few more pulls at the bottle, I think. Now let's keep perfectly quiet and watch."

The moon had not yet risen and the woods stood about us like a black wall. No wind was abroad, the air in the house was close, and I could hear my own heart beating against the floor. There was scarcely any use to look out now, for nothing could be seen, and I arose and sat with my back against the wall, taking care to keep clear of the small opening which I had made. It was so dark in the room that I could not see Alf, but I could hear him, for softly he was humming a tune: "Hi, Bettie Martin, tip-toe fine." For days he had been heavy with the melancholy of his love, but now in this hour of danger his heart seemed to be light and attuned to a rollicking air. I have known many a man to breathe a delicious thrill in an atmosphere of peril, to feel a leap of the blood, a gladness, but it was at a time of intense excitement, a sort of epic joy; but how could a man, lying in the dark, waiting for he knew not what—how could he put down a weighty care and take up a lightsome tune?

Down in the hollow a screech owl was crying, and his mate on the hill-top replied to his call, while in the room near me was the whif of a bat. And Alf was now so silent that I thought he must have fallen asleep, but soon I heard him softly whistling: "Hi, Bettie Martin, tip-tip-toe fine."

"You seem to be enjoying yourself," said I. "If you had brought a fiddle we might have a dance."

I heard him titter as he wallowed on the floor. "This is fun," he said, "the only real fun I've had since—I was going to say since the war, but I was too young to go into society at that time."

"What do you think they are up to now, Alf?" I asked.

"Blamed if I know. Getting tired?"

"Well, I don't want to stay here all night. What are we waiting for?"

"It's hard to tell just at present, and if we don't get a more encouraging report pretty soon we'll break the engagement and go home. What's that?"

I listened and at first heard nothing, and was just about to say that it must be the screech-owl come closer, when from a corner of the house there came a distant and sharp crackle. I heard Alf scuffle to his feet. "We are in for it!"

It was true, for now we could see the light glaring on the bushes and a moment later a spear of light shot inward, revealing my friend standing there with his hands buried deep in his pockets. "Those old logs are as dry as a powder horn," he carelessly remarked. "Won't take long to burn the thing down."

"But what are we going to do?" I cried. And now the room was aglow, and shadows were dancing on the wall.

"I was just thinking," said he, looking about. "They'll begin shooting in here as soon as that end is burned out. Wish I had seen that rascal when he slipped up here to kindle this fire. Helloa, it's spread to the roof."

I strove to show him that I could be as calm and as careless as he, but now I was startled, and excitedly exclaimed: "We shall be burned up like rats in a barn!"

"Oh, I reckon not. Here, let's pull up a plank out of the floor and crawl under and if we can get into the bushes we'll be all right. Here's a crack. But I can't move it," he added, after straining at the board. "See if you can get your fingers through here."

I dropped upon my knees and thrust my fingers through the crack. The fire had now gained such headway that the air was hot and a glare danced on the wall where the shadow had crept; and we heard the Aimes boys yell in the woods a short distance off. With all my strength I pulled at the board; I got off my knees and braced myself, and with a quick jerk the board came up with a loud rip and I fell backward on the floor.

"Go ahead," said Alf, quietly standing there, with his gun under his arm. "Get down through and work your way toward the other end."

"You go first, Alf."

"I'm in no hurry. But may be I know of an opening where the sheep come under in winter. Follow me, then."

Down we went into the fine and suffocating dust. Here and there the sheep and the hogs had dug deep beds in their restlessness, when nights had been cold, but in places the floor was so close to the ground that I could scarcely crawl through. We heard one end of the roof fall in, and then a volley was fired from the woods.

"What did I tell you?" said Alf. "We understand their tactics, any way. Don't believe you can get through here, Bill. Wait, I can dig down this lump with my gun. Wish I had a hatchet. Ever notice how handy a hatchet is?"

"For God's sake, let me get at it, Alf. I can feel the heat. The whole thing will fall down on us in a minute. That'll do; I can squeeze through."

Alf crawled into one of the deep beds and reached back to help pull me through. "Bill, looks like this place was made for you, only I wish they had made it a trifle bigger. Once more."

And there I struggled and there he pulled. "I am gone, Alf; I can't get out. Save yourself if you can."

"If you can't get out I know you are not gone, Bill," he replied with a laugh, but it was a laugh of despair rather than of merriment. "Don't give up. Once more. You are coming. What did I tell you?" And again he laughed, but not in despair. We were now at the wall, at the very hole through which the sheep were wont to come in. "You first, this time, Bill. Sheer off to the left. The bushes are not more than fifteen feet away."

With but little difficulty I squeezed through the opening. And now I was in a hot and dazzling glare. A breeze had sprung up with the flames, and behind me was a roar, and a crash of the falling beams. I looked not about me, but straight ahead toward the thicket, now waving as if swept by a strong wind; and within a minute after reaching the outer air I was crawling through a thick clump of blackberry briars, with Alf close upon my heels. We soon came upon a sheep-walk covered with briars, and now we could make faster time. The Aimes boys were still firing into the burning house, and it was evident that they had not discovered our escape.

"We can walk now," Alf whispered. "Turn down here to the right and keep the shumac bushes between us and them. Now we are all right."

Not another word was spoken until we had reached a knoll, some distance away. Then we halted and looked back. And now the old house was but a blazing heap. Alf was peeping about through the trees, and suddenly his gaze was set. He cocked his gun and brought it to his shoulder.

"No," I said. "You will only regret it." I grasped the gun and both hammers fell upon my hand. "Get back!" he commanded.

"No," I said, my hand still under the hammers. "You must not."

He looked hard at me for a moment and then suffered me to take the gun. The fire was now dying, and, looking to the left, whence the firing had come, I saw two of the Aimes boys standing under a tree.

"Bill, I could kill both of them," Alf said, in a sorrowful voice.

"I know, my dear boy, but you must not. You would always regret it. We will let the law take charge of them to-morrow."

"Not to-morrow, Bill, but to-night. To-morrow they will be gone."

"All right; just as you say. Where is the nearest officer?"

"A deputy sheriff lives about two miles from here, off to the right of our road home. Come on."

We came into the road after making a circuit through the woods, and hastened onward. And we must have gone nearly half the distance to the deputy's house when we heard the Aimes boys coming behind us, drunk and whooping. "They think we are burnt up," said Alf; "but we'll show them. Let's get aside into the bushes, and when they come along we'll let them have it."

"We will get aside into the bushes," said I, "but we will not let them have it. Come over this side. Let me have your gun."

He let me take the gun, and as he stood near me, waiting for the ruffians to pass, I thought that he made an unseemly degree of noise, merely to attract their attention so that he might have an opportunity to fire at them. "Keep still, Alf," I whispered.

They came down the road, singing a bawdy song. For a moment I was half inclined to give Alf his gun, but that early lesson, the waylaying of Bentley, restrained me. We heard the scoundrels talking between their outbursts of song. "Piece of roast hog wouldn't go bad jest about now, Scott. I feel sorter gnawish after my excitement of the evenin'."

"Wall, if you air hongry and hanker atter hog, why don't you go back yander and git a piece that we've jest roasted?"

Alf's hand closed about the barrels of his gun, and strongly he pulled, but I loosened his grip and whispered: "Let them go. There is no honor and very little revenge in shooting a brute."

"I reckon you are right," he replied, but he did not whisper, and out in the road there was a quick scuffling of feet and then a halt. I threw one arm about Alf and pressed one hand over his mouth.

"What was that, Scott?"

"I didn't hear nothin'."

"Thought I heared somebody a-talkin'."

"Yes, you thought like Young's niggers—thought buck-eyes was biscuits. Come on, boys. We'll go over and wake old Josh up and git more licker."

They passed on, and when I had given Alf the opportunity to speak he said: "Good. They are going over to a negro's house and we'll get there about the time they do, and if we can't get anybody but the deputy to help us we'll have to kill one or two of them. Now keep up with me."

Off through the woods he went at a trot, leaping logs and splashing through a brook where it was broad; and I kept well up with him. Already my mind had ceased to dwell upon the narrowness of our escape; I was thinking of Guinea as she had stood, shielding the light with her hand.



CHAPTER VIII.

We were not long in reaching the house of the deputy sheriff. A loud call brought him out to the fence. And when we had quickly told him what was wanted, he whistled to express his gratification or his surprise and I fancied that I saw his hair bristling in the moonlight, for he had come out bareheaded.

"Now let me think a minute, boys," said he. "I have been an officer long enough to know that it ain't much credit to take a fellow after he's dead—most anybody can do that. What we want is to capture them and to do that we've got to have more men. Alf, I tell you what you do. You and your friend slip over to old Josh's and keep watch to see that they don't get away, and I'll ride as fast as I can and get General Lundsford and your daddy. What do you say?"

"I say it's a first-rate plan," Alf answered. "I don't think the General would like to be left out and I know that father wouldn't. Come on, Bill."

The negro's house was not far away, and hastening silently through the woods we soon came within sight of it, on the side of a hill, at the edge of a worn-out field. We softened our foot-steps as we drew near unto the cabin, and we could hear the ruffians within, singing, swearing, dancing. We halted at the edge of the woods, within ten feet of the door, and listened. "Let us slip up and take a peep at them," said Alf; and carefully we climbed over the old fence, taking care not to break any of the rotting rails lest we might sound an alarm. We made not the slightest noise, but just as we were within touching distance of the cabin, a dog sprang from behind a box in the chimney corner. I don't know how much noise it might have been his intention to make or whether he belonged to the stealthy breed of curs whose delight it is to make a silent lunge at the legs of a visitor, but I do know that he made not a sound, for I grabbed him by the throat and the first thing he knew his eyes were popping out between their fuzzy lids. I choked him until I thought he must be dead, and then, with a swing, I threw him far over the fence into the woods. We listened and heard him scrambling in the dried leaves and then he was still. The cabin was built of poles and was old. Many a rain had beaten against the "chinking" and we had no trouble in finding openings through which we could plainly see all that went forward within. Just as I looked in I heard the twang of a banjo, and I saw the old negro sitting on the edge of a bed, picking the instrument, while two white men were patting a break-down and two others were trying to dance. At the fire-place a negro woman was frying meat and baking a hoe-cake.

"Generman," said the negro, twanging his strings and measuring his words to suit his tune, "don't want right now to be so pertinence—be so pertinence; but, yes, I'd like to know, hi, hi, hi, yes, like to know whut you gwine gimme fur dis yere, yes, whut you gwine gimme fur all dis yere?"

The patting ceased instantly, and the two men danced not another shuffle, and one of them, Scott, I afterward learned, cried out: "What, you old scoundrel, air you dunnin' us already?"

"Oh, naw, sah, skuze me," said the old negro, "I ain't doin' dat, fur I dun tole you dat I didn' want ter be pertinence, but dar's some things, you know, dat er pusson would like ter un'erstan', an' whut I gwine git fur all dis yere is one o' 'em. I has gib you licker an' I has gib you music, an' wife, dar, is cookin' supper fur you, an' it ain' no mo' den reason dat I'd wanter know whut we gwine git fur it."

"Well, we'll pay you all right enough," replied Scott Aimes. "You've always treated us white, and you are about the only man in this neighborhood that has."

"I thankee, sah," the negro rejoined; "yas, I thankee, sah, fur I jest wanted ter be satisfied in my mine, an' I tell you dat when er pusson is troubled in his mine he's outen fix sho nuff. Hurry up dar, Tildy, wid you snack, fur deze genermen is a-haungry."

"I hope she won't get it ready any too soon," I whispered to Alf, and he, with his face close to mine, replied: "You can trust an old negro woman for that. It won't take Parker very long to ride over to the General's house, and they can pick up father on the way back."

"Won't your mother and—and Guinea be frightened?"

"Not much. They've seen the old man go out on the war path more than once. Let's see what they are doing now."

Scott had taken the banjo and was turning it over, looking at it. We saw him take out a knife and then with a twang he cut the strings. "Good Lawd!" exclaimed the negro, and his wife turned from the fire with a look of sorrow and reproach, for the distressful sound had told her accustomed ear that a calamity had befallen the instrument. "Now jest look whut you done!" the negro cried, and his wife, wiping her hands on her apron, looked at Scott Aimes and said: "Ef dat's de way you gwine ack, I'll burn dis yere braid an' fling dis yere meat in de fire. Er body workin' fur you ez hard ez I is, an' yere you come er doin' dat way. It's er shame, sah, dat's whut it is. It's er plum shame, I doan kere ef you is white an me black."

Scott roughly tossed the banjo into a corner and laughed. "Sounds a blamed sight better in death than in life," said he.

"But who gwine pay fur dat death music?" the negro asked.

"Pay for it!" Scott turned fiercely upon the negro and Alf caught up his gun. "Wait!" I whispered.

"Pay for it!" Scott raved. "Why you infernal old scoundrel, do we have to pay every time we turn round? But we'll make it all right with you," he added, turning away; and Alf lowered his gun.

"I hopes ter de Lawd you will," said the woman, "fur we needs it bad enough."

"You do?" Scott replied. "Well, you'd better be thankful that we don't blow on you for sellin' whisky without license."

"Dar ain' no proof o' de fack dat I has sol' none ter-night," said the old negro, shaking his head.

"What's that?" Scott demanded, wheeling round.

"Skuze me, sah, nothin' er tall. Jest er passin' de time o' de day, sah."

"Didn't I tell you that we would pay you for everything we got?"

"Yas, sah, an' you's er generman, sah; yas, I thanks you fur gwinter pay me."

"Yo' supper is done an' ef you'll jest gib me room I'll fix de table," the woman remarked, taking the bread off the griddle.

"I hear them coming!" Alf whispered. I looked round and saw them at the fence. They had tied their horses in the woods. We stepped out from the shadow and held up our hands to enjoin care.

"I'll go first, and you boys follow me," said the General, cocking his pistol and letting the hammer down to see if it worked well.

"Oh, I reckon not," Lim Jucklin replied. "I'm older than you are and you know it. Come on, boys."

"Older!" the General exclaimed, with such force that we had to tell him to make less noise. "I am eight months older than you are, and you know it. Come on, boys."

Old Lim took hold of him. "This ain't altogether your picnic; the invertations come from my house, and——"

"What the devil difference does it make?" the deputy spoke up. "I'm the only officer present and I'll go first."

I thought that it was my time to act, and, telling them to follow me, I reached the door almost at a stride and threw my full weight against it. The door flew off its hinges and fell on the floor broad-side, and the Aimes brothers, now seated at a table, were "covered" with guns and pistols before they had time to stir in their chairs. They appeared to be horror-stricken at seeing Alf and me, and in a moment their hands were in the air.

"Josh," the deputy commanded, "bring us a plow line. Never mind, you haven't time for that. Take off that bed cord."

The woman had squeezed herself into a corner, between a "cubbord" and the wall, but she came out and protested against the use of her bed cord. "Get that cord!" the deputy commanded. "Move that hand again, Scott Aimes, and I'll kill you. Here we are," he added, when the negro had tumbled off the bed-clothes and unfastened the cord. "Now cut it in four pieces."

"Fur de Lawd's sake!" the woman shouted, "you ain' gwine treat er pusson datter way, is you? Fust da cuts de banjo strings an' den yere come de law an' cuts de bed cawd. Laws er massy whut got inter dis worl' no how."

"Keep quiet," said the deputy. "Here, big man, tie their wrists and don't be afraid of hurting them. I've had my eye on you gentlemen for some time. That's it, give it to them hard. Tie their ankles, too. But we have only four pieces of rope. Go now and get a plow-line, Josh."

We put back the table and the chairs and stood our prisoners in the center of the room, sullen and coarse-featured brutes, and waited for the negro to come with the plow-line, and presently he appeared with a new grass rope. "That's just exactly what we want," said the deputy. "Cut it in four pieces, and, big man," he continued, speaking to me, "I must again call on you. Tight around the shank and no feelings considered. That's it; you go at it in the right way—must have tied chickens for the market. I must really beg pardon of these gentlemen for not getting a warrant; we were pushed for time and, therefore, we are a trifle irregular, but my dear sirs, I promise you that you shall have a warrant just as soon as we get into Purdy. You should be satisfied with my admitting that I am irregular."

The General roared with a great laugh. "Your apology is of the finest feather, the most gracious down," said he, "but our friends must remember that in an irregularity often lie some of the most precious merits of this life."

"If we hadn't been huddled round this here table you wouldn't be havin' sich fun," said Scott Aimes, quivering under my strong pull at the rope. "We never did ask nothin' but a fair show, but we didn't git it this time, by a long shot."

"Silence, brute," the General commanded. "As low as you are, you should know better than to break in upon the high spirits of a gentleman. Oh, I have understood you all along. You were working your courage toward me. Hush, don't you speak a word."

"Got them all strung?" the deputy asked, examining the ropes. "Good. Now, Josh, you run over to my house as fast as you can and tell my wife that you want the two-horse wagon. And hitch it up and come back here as fast as you can. Go on; I'll pay you for everything."

"Thankee, sah, I'm gone. It loosens er ole pusson's feet, sah, ter know dat he gwine be paid. Hard times allus comin' down de big road, er kickin' up er dust."

"Are you going?" the deputy stormed. "Confound you; I'll put you in jail for selling whisky if you are not back here in fifteen minutes."

"Gone now!" exclaimed the negro, bounding from the door and striking a trot. "Gone!" we heard him repeat, as he leaped over the fence.

"Mr. Parker," said Scott Aimes, stretching his neck toward the officer, "I've jest got one favor to ask of you. Git that bottle over thar an' give us fellers a drink. It was licker that got us into this here muss, an' you ought to let licker help us a little now."

"Old fellow used to keep a grocery over at Blue Lick," the deputy remarked, looking at me rather than at the prisoner, "and when a man's money was all gone he used to say: 'Lord love you, honey, I couldn't think of letting you take another drop; I'm so much interested in your welfare that I don't want to see you hurt yourself.' No, Scottfield"—and now he looked at the prisoner—"I am too much interested in you to see you throw yourself away. Don't be impatient. 'Just wait for the wagon,' says the old song."

The old General had sat down, but old Lim continued to stand there, his arms bare and his teeth hard-set. On his countenance lay the shadow of a regret, and I have thought that he was grieved at the spoiling of the fight that he thought should have taken place to reward him for the trouble of leaving home. The prisoners winced under his gaze, as his eyes leaped about from one to another. But he said not a word; just stood there, with his teeth hard-set.

Soon we heard the wagon, rumbling along the road that skirted the old field, and we began to set our prisoners near the door, picking them up and putting them down like upright sticks. The wagon drew up near the door, the woman held a light for us and we began our work of loading. And I was glad when the deputy said that he no longer needed our assistance; I was afraid that he would ask me to drive to town with him.

"Well," he said, gathering up the lines and glancing back at his load, "a pretty good haul for these hard times. Whoa, wait a minute. Say, General, I suppose you have heard some talk of my candidacy for the office of sheriff, and I reckon you have seen to-night whether or not I am worthy of the trust. It's always well to put in a word in time, you know. I reckon I've got you all right, Alf, and, big man, wish you could vote with us this time. Well, I'll let you gentlemen know when you are wanted at court."

Old Lim and the General led their horses and walked with Alf and me; and we heard many a grunt and snort as we told of the burning of the school-house. Old Lim swore that I ought to have let Alf kill Scott Aimes, but the General sided with me. "That would have done no good, Lim," said he. "It's far better as we now have it. I am glad to see, Mr. Hawes, that you have so much discretion, a most noble quality, sir. Now as to the loss of the house, that amounts to nothing. It ought to have been set afire long ago. And I'll tell you what shall be done: A new building shall be put up at once, not of logs, but of frame, and it shall be neatly painted to show people that we are keeping up with the times. Every neighborhood about us has a fine school-house; the old log huts have disappeared, and we are going to march right in the van, sir. But I want to tell you right now that it was in those log school-houses that the greatest men in the nation have been taught; and when I see a pile of logs out in the woods I fancy that I can hear the classics lowly hummed."

"Gentlemen," said old Lim, "if it was day time instead of night I would invite you to see some of the finest sport you ever run across, for I'm in the humor for it right now. But chickens have a prejudice agin fightin' at night. Many a time when I had trouble on my mind and couldn't sleep I've got up and tried to stir their blood, but they want to nod; that's what they want to do at night—nothin' but nod, unless you've got light enough, and then if you stir 'em up they'll git so mad that they'll go it smack to a finish."

"Talking about those chickens?" the General asked. "Confound them, they'd have no attraction for me if it were mid-day. But pardon me. I mean simply that I take no interest in such things."

Old Lim grunted. "Right here is where I git on my horse," said he. And he mounted and rode on ahead in moody silence.

I was now walking beside the General and Alf was just behind me. Several times the young man sighed distressfully and I knew that something heavy had fallen upon his mind. Presently he pulled at my coat and as I dropped back he took my place. "General, you said just now that Bill was right in not letting me shoot that fellow, Scott Aimes." He hesitated and was silent for a few moments, striding beside the General, and the General said nothing—was waiting for him to continue. "Said that I was wrong," Alf repeated, "and I reckon I was, but I hope you won't say anything about it—at home."

"Why not at home, sir? Hah, why not at home? 'Od zounds, can't a gentleman talk in his own house?"

Alf began to drop back. "What he means, General," said I, taking his place, "is that he has so much respect for you that he does not want you to think ill of him when you are alone, meditating in your own house."

"Ha, now, a fine whim, but it's a respectful whim and shall be honored, sir. I don't understand the young men of this day and generation, but I know what respect means. I don't know that I condemned you, Alf; I spoke for the most part of the discretion of your friend. Well, gentlemen, here is where I leave you."

He threw the bridle reins over the horse's neck and was preparing to mount, when Alf started forward as if to help him, but I clutched him so vigorously that he turned upon me and asked what I meant. "Keep still," I whispered. "I'll tell you after a while."

By this time the old gentleman was astride his horse. He took off his hat, bowed with the air of a cavalier, and, bidding us good-night, galloped off down the road. Then I told Alf why I had held him back, that I had almost insulted the old man by offering to assist him in mounting his horse; and Alf stood there actually trembling at the narrowness of his escape. I know that we should have been burned up had he been half so badly frightened while we were in the school-house.

The nights were shortened by the season's approach to the first of May. It seemed a long time since the twilight had glimmered on the leaves, and it was past midnight when we reached home. Old Lim had put up his horse and was standing at the draw-bars, waiting for us.

"For a smart man," said he, "I reckon the General's got about as little sense as any human now alive. By jings, he's a crank; that's what's the matter with him; and the first thing he knows people will be keepin' out of his way."

A light flashed from the passage and we saw Guinea and her mother standing on the log step, gazing toward us.

"It's all right!" the old man cried. "Go on to bed, and don't be standing around this time of night."

Alf and I, leaving the old man at the bars, went to the house. "Oh, I'm so glad you've all got back," said Mrs. Jucklin, striving to be calm, but whimpering. "Are you sure that you are all safe and sound?"

Guinea began to laugh. "Of course, they are, mother, don't you see?"

"But what's your father still standin' out yonder for? I jest know he's crippled. Limuel, are you hurt?" she cried.

"Yes, I am hurt, and by a man that prefers to be a crank. Said that he wouldn't care anything about 'em even if it was daylight."

"Oh, but you are not shot, are you?" his wife exclaimed, starting toward him.

"Go in now, Susan, and don't come foolin' with me. Who said I was shot? Go on to bed, everybody, and I'll come when I git ready."

"But you must be hungry, Limuel?"

"Hungry, the devil—excuse me, ma'm. I'll eat a snack mebby between now and mornin'."

"It's no use to talk to him," she said, with a sigh, and, turning to me, she added: "You and Alf must be nearly starved. We've kept the coffee warm. Guinea, go and pour it out for 'em."

"Will you tell me all about the fight?" the girl asked when we entered the dining-room. "I like to hear about such things."

I strove to make light of it, but, seeing that this would not satisfy her, I told of the burning of the house and of the capture of the Aimes brothers, colored our danger in the house, to see her lips whiten and her eyes stare; pictured myself as I must have looked when I seized the dog, to choke him, and to throw him far into the woods—told her all, except that I had caught the hammers of Alf's gun.

"I don't see how you kept from killing them when you got the chance," she said, leaning with her elbows on the table and her chin in her hands, musing: "I don't understand how you could keep from it."

Alf threw down his knife and fork and struck the table with his fist. "I wanted to kill Scott—had a bead on him, but Bill grabbed my gun. Guinea, I'm glad you stand by me, you and father; but the General thinks I was wrong, and I was just about to think that everybody's heart was right but mine. I am glad you are with me, Guinea."

I looked at her as she sat there, musing; her hair was tangled as if a storm of thought had swept through her head, and sorely I wondered whether a care for me had been borne through the storm. I forgot the presence of Alf; I forgot everything except that I would have given my blood and my soul to please her, and with bitterness I said: "Oh, if I had known that you wanted him killed I would not only have let Alf kill him—I would have killed him myself."

She looked up from her attitude of musing and met my outbreak with a quiet laugh. "The bigger a man is the sillier he is," she said, still laughing. "Why, I don't want him dead. I wouldn't like to have anyone killed. I merely wondered how, having come so close to being burned up, you could keep from killing him. I thought that I understood most men, but I don't understand you, Mr. Hawes."

"Yes, you do!" I cried; "you understand me too well, and that is why you torture me."

"What!" exclaimed Alf, springing to his feet, "are you on the gridiron? Has she got you where somebody has got me? By—there comes mother."

I looked back as I passed out of the room, and Guinea sat there, musing. Alf put his arm about me as we went up the stairs. We did not light the lamp, but sat down in the dark, sat there and for a long time were silent.

"Bill, oh, Bill."

"Yes," I answered.

"Bill, don't ask me anything. Father may tell you something to-morrow. God bless you, Bill. You have stood by me. Good-night."



CHAPTER IX.

It must have been daylight before I worried my way into a sleep that seemed jagged and sharp-cornered with many an evil turn; and when I awoke the sun was shining. I looked out, and far across the field I saw Alf, walking behind his plow. The hour was late for one to rise in the country, for the sun was far above the tops of the trees. But I cared not for any impression that might be made by my apparent laziness; my head was heavy and my heart was crushed. No sound came from below, and after dressing—and how mean my clothes did look—I sat down at my writing desk—sat and mused, just as I had seen Guinea sitting, with her elbows on the table and with her chin in her hands. And Alf would ask the old man to tell me something. Tell me what?

I went down stairs. Mrs. Jucklin was sweeping the yard. She put down her broom upon seeing me and came forward, wiping her hands. I began to apologize for being so late. "Oh, that makes no difference," she said. "Alf told us not to wake you. I will go in and fix you something to eat."

"Now, don't put yourself to any trouble, for, really, I couldn't eat a bite; I'm not very well. Where is Mr. Jucklin?"

"Why, you must eat something. He's gone to the blacksmith shop broke the point off his plow against a rock and had to go and get it fixed. He ought to be back by now. It ain't but a little ways down the road. Are you goin' over there? Well, if you see him tell him that Guinea and I are goin' to see Mrs. Parker and won't be back till evenin'. Tell him that we'll leave everything on the table."

Down the road I went, looking for the blacksmith shop, and I had not gone far before I saw the old man coming, with his plow on his shoulder. He was talking to himself and did not see me until I spoke to him. "Let me take that plow," I said. "Give it to me. I'm stronger than you."

"I reckon you are right," he replied, looking up at me with a grin, "but I can tote it all right enough."

But I took the plow from him, and walked along with it on my shoulder, waiting for him to say something.

"You haven't seen Alf this mornin', have you?" he asked.

"No; I was asleep when he got up. Why?"

"Well, jest wanted to know. Alf takes some strange notions into his head once in a long while, and he had one this mornin'. Told me to tell you suthin' that very few folks know. Don't know why, unless he thinks more of you than he does of any other young man. Never saw him take to a person as he has to you. And I reckon I better tell you. But I hate to talk about it."

We walked on in silence, and in my impatience I shifted the plow from one shoulder to the other. "I'll take it when you git tired of it," he said. "Now, it may be putty hard for you to understand the situation, and I'm free to say that I can't make it so very plain, but I'll do the best I can. One day, a long time ago, old General Lundsford came to me—long after I had wallowed him, you understand. And now as to that wallowin', why, he could have killed me if he had wanted to. He's game. Well, he came to me, and about as nearly as I can ricollect said this: 'My son Chydister, strong-headed little rascal that he is, vows an' declares that when he grows up he is goin' to marry your daughter Guinea. I'll be frank with you and tell you that I didn't approve of it, and I scouted the idea, not that your daughter ain't as good as any girl, but because I don't mind tellin' you, I've got a family name to keep up. I told him this, but he was so young and so headstrong that he swore that it made no difference to him. You know they have played together, up and down the branch, and he thinks there aint nobody like her. Well, sir, he kept on talkin about it until I knowed that he was set, and that there wasn't any use to try to turn him, so I began to think it over seriously. That boy is my life's blood, and I want to please him in every way I can, and I don't want him to marry beneath him. I'm goin' to make a doctor out of him, the very best that can be made, and his companion must be an educated woman. They are goin' to marry when they grow up in spite of anything we can do, and now I've got a request to make of you. I know that you wouldn't let me give you a cent of money, but as an honest man you can't refuse to let me lend you enough money to send your daughter to school along with my own daughter; and whenever you think that you are able to pay me back, all right, and if you never are able, it will still be all right.'"

The old man paused, and now I walked, along carrying the plow in front of me, stumbling, seeing no road, caring not whither my feet might wander. "I'll take it now," he said, reaching for the plow. "You don't know how to tote it, nohow."

I pushed him back and said: "Go on with your story."

I was walking so fast that he was almost trotting to keep up with me. "Right there I was weak," he said. "I thought of what a bright creature my girl was, thought of what education would do for her, thought that I could soon pay back the money, and I agreed. And I want to tell you that it has been hot ashes on me ever since. They are goin' to marry all right enough, but it galls me to think that I had to send her out to have her educated at another man's expense—cuts me to think that she wasn't good enough for any man just as I could give her to him. And I'm goin' to pay back that money if I have to sell this strip of poor dirt, that's what I'm goin' to do. Yes, sir, even if it's ten years after they are married. Chyd is off at school now, and has been for a long time; only comes home for a while at vacation, and it seems to me that if he's goin' to be a doctor it's time he was at it. But I understand that they are goin' to send him to another place after he gits through with this one. I don't know much about him, but they say that he's a first-rate sort of a fellow. Oh, I knowed him well enough when he was little, but I haven't seen so very much of him since he growed up. Guinea thinks all the world of him, of course, and says that they were born for each other. Gimme that plow here. You don't know how to tote it nohow. I'm not goin' right straight back to the field; I'm goin' to the house. Them hot ashes is on me an inch thick."

I let him take the plow; I left him at the draw bars, and with heavy and dragging feet I climbed up to my room. I sat down to my desk, but not with elbows resting on the board, not with my chin in my hands; I couldn't bear to think of that attitude. Now, I understood why she had said "Oh" with such coolness when I had declared that I hated doctors. My heart was freezing, my head was hot, and in a fevered fancy I saw Guinea and that boy playing up and down the rivulet. I saw them wading in the water; heard him tell her that when they grew up she must be his wife, and I saw her, holding her dress about her ankles, look up at him and smile. I knew that he had never been awkward, I knew that he looked like Bentley, knew that he would have made fun of me, and down in my heart there was a poisonous hatred, yellow, green, venomous. I am seeking to hide nothing; I cannot paint myself as a generous and high-minded man. When stirred, I seem to have more rank sap than other men—less reason, more senseless passion. I roared at the picture, sitting there gripping the desk, and frightened it away; and to myself I acknowledged the faults which I now set forth, but an acknowledgment of a fault is not within itself virtue. The fool's recourse is to call himself a fool, to upbraid himself, curse himself and then in graciousness to pardon himself. You might as well reason with a rattlesnake, striking at you—might as well seek to temporize and argue with a dog drooling hydrophobic foam, as to tell the human heart what it ought to do. Reason is a business matter and it can make matches, but it cannot make love.

Long I sat there, gripping the desk, gazing at the rafters overhead, groaning in the lover's conscious luxury of despair. Should I go away? No; I would stay and see it out. I would be light and gay—a bear's waltz. I would laugh and rebuke fate; I would punish Guinea for having played with that boy up and down the brook; I would be all sorts of a fool.

The old man's voice came ringing through the air. "Hike, there, Sam; hike, there, Bob. Get him down. Hike, there!"

He was having a round with his chickens, to fan off the atmosphere of humiliation, to blow away the hot ashes that were so thick upon him. I remembered that I had not delivered Mrs. Jucklin's message, and I hastened out to the "stockade," and knocked at the gate. "Hike, there, boys! Who's that? Whoa, boys, that'll do! Go in there, Sam! Ho, it's you, eh?" he said, opening the gate. "Sorry, but you didn't git here quite in time. You had the opportunity, but you flung it away. What, gone over to Parker's? That's all right. Well, I must be gettin' back to the field. Looks like the grass will take me in spite of everything I can do. You'll help until they get the school-house built? Now, I'm much obleeged to you, but we can't rig up another outfit. Why, yander you go already," he added, pointing to a wagon load of lumber drawn along the road. "It's Perdue's wagon. Yander comes another one, with Ren Bowles, the carpenter, on board. Oh, they are goin' to rush things. I've heard that already this mornin'. You never saw a neighborhood stirred up much worse than this one is over that affair, and there is strong talk of lynchin' them fellers; and this mornin' a party went over to see old Aimes and told him that if he wan't gone by 10 o'clock they would string him up, and I reckon he's gone by this time. They are makin' great heroes oute'n you and Alf, I tell you. A number of 'em wanted to see you, but Alf wouldn't let 'em wake you up. I saw Parker while I was down at the shop; he'd jest got back from town; and he told me that the grand jury that's now in session would indict them fellers to-day, and as court is already set they may be brought to trial for murderous assault and arson right away, and I want to tell you that they'll do well if they save their necks. Parker said that he reckoned you and Alf better go over to Purdy to-morrow. Well, I must git back, for that grass is musterin' its forces every minute I'm away."

I worried through the day, saw Guinea in a haze, heard her voice afar off, and at night I went to bed worn out and limp. Alf did not come up until some time after I lay down. He came softly whistling a doleful air to prove that his sympathies were with me, sat down upon the edge of my bed and remained there a long time motionless and silent. I knew not what to say to him and he was evidently puzzled as to what he ought to say to me. Out of the fullness of the heart the mouth may speak, but out of the heart's fullness there also flows a silence.

"Bill," he said, reaching over and turning down the light which I had left brightly burning, "I killed a snake to-day that I reckon must be six feet long. Came crawling across the field as if he had important business over in the woods, but he didn't get there. Ever kill many big snakes?"

"Not very many," I answered, "but I am well acquainted with them and I have been bitten by a big snake that lies coiled about the universe, striking at a heart whenever he sees it."

He got up, blew out the low blaze of the lamp, and sat down on his own bed, I could tell from the creaking of the slats; and after a time he said something about the gridiron on which a man was compelled to wallow. Ordinarily I would have laughed, hot ashes on the father and hot coals under the son, but now I sighed deeply.

"Bill, you know, the other day I said that there was something in my favor, an outgrowth of my sister's education. A family union, don't you see? But I had no idea when I said it that this very thing would put the fire under a man that has stood by me. I'm awfully sorry that things had to be shaped that way. You know what I mean; father told you all about it. Is it bad, Bill? I won't say a word about it and the old folks don't suspect a thing, but do you love her much? Tell me just as if she wasn't any kin to me."

"Did the martyrs who stood in the fire love their God?" I asked.

He sighed. "She's got you, Bill. The time has been so short that I didn't think it could be so bad, but love doesn't look at the clock nor keep a calendar. Are you going to try to keep on living, Bill?"

"Yes, I'm going to study law when I get through with this school, and I'm going to make the law of divorce a specialty. If I can't do I may undo; I'm going to be a wolf, and whenever I see a man aiming a gun at another man, I'm not going to catch the hammers. Why, yesterday my heart was tender because it thought to please her. Discretion! I've got no discretion. I'm a brute. I murdered an innocent rabbit on my way to your home—killed it just because I could; and what man is as innocent as a rabbit? Yes, Alf, I am going to live."

"But you won't hate Guinea, will you? She couldn't help it."

"Oh, I couldn't hate her. No, I won't hate her; I'm going to stand by, ready to give her my life whenever I think she needs it."

And thus we talked, senseless creatures, sighing in the dark. But so it is with human life everywhere—a foolish chatter and in the dark a sighing.

Several days passed and yet we were not summoned to appear at court. I did not avoid Guinea, neither did I seek her. But often we were together, sometimes alone, on the oak bench under the tree, at the spring, on the old and smooth rock at the brink of the ravine; and her smile none the less bright, was warmer with sympathy. A Sunday had gone by and Alf had seen Millie, but she was riding to church with Dan Stuart.

One evening Parker sent us word to be in Purdy early the next day. And at dawn the next morning the buck-board stood ready for the journey. Mrs. Jucklin had worked nearly the night through, baking bread and roasting chickens to tide us over the trip. Alf complained at the load we were expected to carry, and this grieved her. "You know there's nothin' fitten to eat there," she said. "You know that Lum Smith stayed there three days year before last and come home and was sick for a month. Mr. Hawes, I appeal to you—make him take it."

And off we drove with our bread and roasted chickens. The women stood on the step and shouted at us, and we waved our hands at them as we turned a bend in the road. Ours was an important journey, and many of the neighbors came out as we passed along and cried words of encouragement. On a hill-top we heard the gallop of a horse, and out of a lane dashed a girl—Millie. She smiled at us, nodded as her horse jumped, and gave us a gleam of her white hand as she sped off down into the woods.

"They tell us that the Savior rode an ass," said Alf, "but we have seen heaven gallop by on a horse." He stood up and gazed toward the woods. Our horse gradually came to a standstill, but Alf stood there, gazing, shading his eyes with his hand. "It ain't the sun that dazzles," he said. "It's her smile."

"She'll make a poet of you, Alf."

"She could do more than that; she could make a man of me."

I don't know of a more dingy and desolate-looking town than Purdy. The houses are old, and the streets are rutted. The court-house, in the center of the square—my temple of fame—is mean and rain-streaked. And this is what I saw at a glance: An enormous wooden watch, with its paint cracking off, hanging in front of a jeweler's; the mortar and pestle of a druggist on top of a post; a brick jail, with a pale face at the bars; lawyers' signs; doctors' signs; a livery stable, with a negro in front, pouring water on the wheels of a buggy; a red-looking negro, with a string of shuck horse collars; a dog in front of the court-house sniffing at a hog; the tavern, with its bell outside on a pole; men pitching horse-shoes in the shade; a woman, with her arms on a gate; a girl trying to pull a dirty child into a yard; a man in front of a store stuffing straw into a box; horses tied to racks about the square; men lolling about the court-house—these features made the face of Purdy.

We had put up the horse, Alf had gone to see a friend of his and I was walking past a vacant lot when some one shouted at me, and, turning round, I saw a man coming toward me. "Helloa, there," he said, coming up, smiling. "You ought not to forget your old friends."

"Oh," I replied, recalling his face, "you are the agent at the station where I got off the train."

"Yes, used to be," he said, shaking hands with me, "but I'm over here now, but not as a railroad agent, for there's no road here. I am the honored and distinguished telegraph operator of this commercial emporium. Couldn't stay over yonder any longer. No calico—not a rag there. Got to see the flirt of calico. See that?" A woman was passing. "You can stand here and see it going along all the time, and you've got to be mighty respectful toward it, I tell you, for there's a shot-gun in every house and a father or a brother more than ready to pull both triggers at once. That's right, I suppose; but it does hamper a fellow mightily. Ever in St. Louis? That's the place. Muslin and soft goods everywhere and nine chances to one there ain't a gun in the house. Might be, you know, but there is so much mull and moriantique and all that sort of thing that there ain't guns enough to go round, so you can smile and nod on the street; but you can't do it here. Here you've got to have a three-ply, doubled and twisted introduction before you can smile even at cottonade. I've been here a week, and hold about the most responsible position in the town, and society hasn't taken me up yet, but I reckon it will after a while. I reckon you could get in all right. They have heard all about your fight—know that you are game, and nothing counts more than that, for they have an idea that a game fellow is always a gentleman."

Just then a boy came up and told him that there was a call. "I'll be there after a while," the operator replied. "Go on back. I've been pitching horse-shoes with some fellows," he continued, speaking to me, "and ain't quite through yet. I'll have to teach him so that he will be able to tell them that I'm busy when I'm not there. I've found out that what we want in this life is leisure. People are getting too swift. There's no need of half the telegraphing that's done. Why don't they write and save trouble and expense? There goes a nice piece of calico. I must get acquainted with it, too, I tell you. Well, believe I'll stroll on back. Come in while you're here. The trial won't take up much of your time. It's all pretty much cut and dried, anyway."

At 10 o'clock the Aimes brothers were brought before the bar. The jury was already selected and the trial was at once taken up. I was put upon the stand and instructed to tell my story without any fear of reflecting too much credit upon myself. I could see that they wanted a thrilling recital and I gave it to them. And when Alf followed, he found them eager for more. The prosecuting attorney made a speech, as red as the fire that had burned the school-house; the lawyer appointed for the defence made a few cool remarks, and the case was closed. We were anxious to take the verdict home with us, and we had made preparations to remain over night, but the jury came to an agreement without leaving the box, so we had nothing to do but to return home. The Aimes brothers were given a term of fifteen years each in the penitentiary.

The sun was down when we got upon the buck-board, and over the road we drove, under the stars, our stars, for in sympathy they looked down upon us. The moon was late, but we preferred the dark—it was sadder.

"I wonder how it's all going to end," said Alf. "If we could only rip apart that black thing down the road and look into the future."

"And if you could rip it," I replied, "if you could and were about to do so, I would grab your hand with a harder grip than I gave the gun when I caught the hammers."

"Then you don't want to know? You'd rather continue to writhe on the gridiron than to turn over and fall into the fire and end the matter?"

"Alf," said I, "does it strike you that we are a couple of as big fools as ever drove along a county road?"

"Whoa!" he shouted, pulling upon the reins and stopping the horse. And then he laughed. "Fools; why, two idiots are two Solomons compared with us. Let's stop it; let's be sensible; let's be men."

"I'm with you, Alf. Shake hands."

We drove along in silence. After a long time he said: "Here's where she crossed the road; and do you see that?" he asked, pointing to the Milky Way. "That was done by the waving of her hand. I wish to the Lord I knew just how much she thinks of Dan Stuart."

"Ah, but that wouldn't relieve you," I replied, "for I know how much Guinea thinks of Chyd Lundsford and feel all the worse for it. There are always two hopes, walking with a doubt, one on each side, but a certainty walks alone."

"I reckon you are right," he rejoined with a sigh. "How many strange things love will make a man say, things that an unpoisoned man would never think of. Poisoned is the word, Bill; and I'll bet that if I'd bite a man it would kill him in a minute."

"What sort of a fellow is young Lundsford?" I asked, with my teeth set and my feet braced against the dashboard.

"Oh, he ain't a bad fellow; he ain't our sort exactly, but he's all right."

"Smart and full of poetry, isn't he?"

"I never heard him say anything that had poetry in it. Don't think he knows half as much about books as you do. Oh, about certain sorts of books he does, books with skeletons in them, but knowing all about skeletons don't make a man interesting to a woman. I have read enough to find that out. Why, I have more than held my own with men that are well up in special books—have held my own with all except that fellow Stuart. Now there's Etheredge, that I told you about one day—kin to Dan Stuart. He's a doctor, and they tell me that he is well educated, but I never heard him say a thing worth remembering. I reckon old Mrs. Nature has a good deal to do with it after all."

They were sitting up waiting for us at home, although it was past the midnight hour when we drove into the yard. Old Lim snorted when he learned that the Aimes boys were not to be hanged, but his wife, merciful creature, was saddened to think that even more mercy had not been shown them. And then she anxiously inquired whether we had found ourselves short in the matter of provisions. We told her that we had brought back nearly all the load which her kindness had imposed upon us, and then with disappointment she said: "Goodness alive, why didn't you give it to those poor fellows to take to the penitentiary with 'em, for I know that there's nothin' there fitten to eat."

The old man stood looking at her, with his coat off and with his shirt-sleeves rolled up. "Susan," said he, "I don't want to git mad, I don't want to go out yander, snatch them chickens out of the coop an' make 'em nod at each other in the dark, but when you talk that way you almost drive me—by jings, you almost drive me out there agin that tree, hard enough to butt the bark off. Do you reckon they are takin' them fellers down there to feed 'em, to fatten 'em up and then turn 'em loose? Hah, is that your idee? 'Zounds, madam, they are lucky to get there with their necks. And here you are lamentin' that there's nothin' at the penitentiary fitten to eat. Go on to bed, Susan, for if you don't I'm afeered that I'll have to say somethin' to hurt your feelin's, and then I'd worry about it all night."

"Now Limuel, what is the use in snortin' round that way? Can't a body say a word?"

"It do look like a body can," he rejoined; "and I'm afeered that a body will, and that's the reason I want you to go to bed."

Old Lim sat down and the subject was dropped. I noticed his wife looking anxiously at me, and just as I was about to leave the room she said: "Mr. Hawes, you'll please pardon me for mentionin' it, but there's a button off your coat, and I'll be glad to sew it on if you will be so kind as to leave it down here."

"No, I will sew it on," Guinea spoke up. "Give me your coat, Mr. Hawes."

"I will not be the means of keeping you up any longer," I replied, looking into her eyes, and feeling the thrill of their sweet poison; "I will do it myself."

"And rob me of a pleasure?" she asked.

"No, relieve you of a drudgery. Come on, Alf."

Two fools went to bed in the dark and sighed themselves to sleep, and two fools dreamed; I know that one did—dreamed of eyes and smiles and a laugh like a musical cluck.



CHAPTER X.

More than a month passed and they were still working on the school-house. The simple plan had been drawn with but a few strokes of a pencil, the sills had been placed without delay, but they had to plane the boards by hand and that had taken time. Alf and I had again sat at the old General's table, had listened to his words so rounded out with kindliness, and upon returning to the porch had heard him storm at something that had gone amiss. Millie showed her dimples and her pretty teeth, smiling at Alf and at me, too, but I saw no evidence that she loved him. Indeed, she had been so much petted that I thought she must be a flirt, and yet she said nothing to give me that impression. Guinea was just the same, good-humored, rarely serious. One Sunday I went to church with her, walked, though the distance was two miles; stood near the cave wherein the British soldiers had hidden themselves, and talked of everything save love. I cannot say that I had a sacred respect for her feelings; I think that I should have liked to torture her, but something closed my heart against an utterance of its heavy fullness.

One Saturday afternoon I was told that the school-house would be ready on the following Monday. I had been out many times to view the work, but I decided to go again to see that everything was complete. I expected that Alf would go with me, for the corn was laid by, but I could not find him. His mother told me that he had put on his Sunday clothes and that she had seen him going down the road. And so I went alone. The house was done, and what a change from the pile of old logs! The walls were painted white and the blinds were green. The bushes were cleared off, and the scorched trees had been cut down, split up and hauled away. I have never seen a neater picture, and in it I saw not only the progress of the people, but the respect in which they held me.

I had come out of the woods on my way home and was on a high piece of grazing land not far from the house when I saw a man ride up to the yard fence, dismount, tie his horse and go into the house. This within itself was nothing, for I had seen many of the neighbors come and go, but a sudden chill seized upon me now, and there I shook, though the heat of June lay upon the land; and it was some time before I could go forward, stumbling, quaking, with my eyes fixed upon the horse tied at the fence. In the yard behind the house I came upon Mrs. Jucklin, gathering up white garments that had been spread to dry upon the althea bushes. "Chyd Lundsford has come," she said, and I replied: "Yes, I know it."

I stepped upon the passage and passed the sitting-room door without looking in; I sat down in a rocking chair that had been placed near the stair-way, sat there and listened to a girl's laugh and the low mumble of a man's voice. "Let us go out where it's cooler," I heard Guinea say, and I got up with my head in a whirl.

"Mr. Hawes, this is Mr. Lundsford."

"Glad to meet you, sir," I said, taking hold of something—his hand, I suppose. I was urged to sit down again; Guinea said that she would bring two more chairs, and when I had dropped back between the arms of the rocker I looked at the man standing there, and a sort of glad disappointment cleared my vision and placed him before me in a strong light. He was short, almost fat, and in his thin, whitish hair there was a hint at coming baldness. The close attention that he had been compelled to give practical things, the sawing of bones, the tracing of nerves, the undoing of man's machinery, had given him the cynical look of a hard materialist. But when he stepped back to take the chair which Guinea had brought I saw that he moved easily, that he was cool and knew well how to handle himself. And this drove away the meager joy of my glad disappointment.

"I hear you are going to take up school Monday," he said. "Rather late to begin school just now, I should think."

"Under ordinary circumstances it would be regarded as late in the season," I answered, "but we have been so interrupted that we now decide to have no vacation."

"I guess you are right. Had a pretty close shave with those fellows, didn't you? Ought to have killed them right there. I've seen Scott. Thought he was a pretty bright fellow, naturally; rather witty. Would make a first-rate subject on the slab."

"Because you thought him witty, sir?" I asked.

"Of course not; but because he is a good specimen—big fellow." He looked at me and I thought that he was measuring my chest. "Yes," he continued, "ought to have killed them. Man's got to take care of himself, you know, and he can't make it his business to show mercy. Most all the virtues now are back-woods qualities."

"I don't believe that," Guinea spoke up. "Every day we read of the generosity of the world."

"Oh," he said, passing his short fingers through his thin hair, "you read about it, and people who want to shine as generous creatures take particular pains that you shall read about it. You've a great deal to learn, my dear little woman."

"And perhaps there is a great deal that she doesn't care to learn," I ventured to suggest; and I quickly looked at her to see whether I had made another mistake. I had not, her quiet smile told me, and I felt bold enough to have thrown him over the fence.

"What we wish to know and what we ought to know are two different matters," he said. "But I hold that we ought to know the truth, no difference what the truth may be. I want facts; I don't want paint. I don't want to believe that the gilt on the dome goes all the way through."

"But," said I, "the gilt on the dome doesn't prove that the dome is rotten; it may be strong with seasoned wood and ribs of iron."

"Yes," he drawled, "that's all very good, very well put, but it means nothing. By the way, before we get into a discussion let me invite you over to our house to-night. Quite a number of young people will drop in. Not exactly the night, you know; but the old idea that white people shouldn't go out of a Saturday night, the night reserved for negroes, is all nonsense. So, I have asked them to come. Alf will come, I suppose, and so will our little spring branch nymph."

"I didn't suppose that you believed in nymphs, now that you have gone out and learned that everything is false," Guinea spoke up.

"I don't believe in painted ones," he replied, "but you are not painted."

"I shall be pleased to come," I remarked, and then I asked him how long he expected to remain at home.

"Oh, about a month, I should think. I am gradually getting along and I don't want to go to school all my life. I want to begin practice next year."

"In this neighborhood?" I asked, and he gave me a contemptuous look. "Well, not if I have any sense left," he answered. "I might ride around here a thousand years and not win anything of a name. Look at Dr. Etheredge, fine physician, but what has he done? No, I'm going to a city, north, I think."

He stayed to supper and this angered me, for I had set my heart on walking to the General's house with Guinea. Alf had not returned and we wondered whither he could have gone. And when the time came to go, that impudent sprig of a doctor asked me if I would ride his horse around by the road, said that he wanted to walk across the meadows with Guinea. How I should have enjoyed knocking him on the head, but I thought that Guinea supplemented his request with a look, and I consented.

There were many horses tied at the General's fence, and there was laughter within, when I rode up, and I was reminded of the night when I had stood with my hot hand melting the frost on the fence. But I thought of what the men had said on the railway platform, of the woman whom I had seen on the train, and boldly I walked in. The General met me with a warm grasp, and was asking me if I had seen his son, when in walked the young fellow himself, with Guinea beside him. The parlor and the library, opening one into the other, were well filled with good-humored young folk, and among them were old people, none the less good-humored. I was surprised to find myself so much in demand, for every one asked for an introduction, but with bitterness I knew that it was because I had come near being burned up in an old house. They played games, but of this they soon tired; they sang and one of the ladies plucked a sparkling fandango, and then Chydister Lundsford was called upon for a speech. He was not at all embarrassed and he talked fairly well; and when he was done they called upon me. I got up with one hand resting on the piano, and stood there, nervous at first, but strangely steady later on. I told them that I could not make a speech, but that with their permission I would tell them a story, one of my own. They cried out that they would rather have a story than a speech, and I gave them a half humorous, half pathetic sketch, something that had long been running in my head and which I intended to write. What a strong confidence came upon me as I noted the effect of my words! I was drawing a picture and they were eager to see it; I was playing on a strange, rude instrument, and how they bent to catch every vibration. I was astonished at myself, thrilled with myself. And when the climax came, chairs were tipped over as if in a scramble, and a wild applause broke out. Every hand was stretched out toward me, every eye was bright with a tear. The old General grabbed me and, throwing back his great head, almost bellowed a compliment; and through it all I saw Guinea sweetly smiling. They urged me to give them another story, were almost frantic in their entreaty; they had heard the heart-beat of their own life and they must hear it again. I told another story, one over which I had fondly mused, and again the hands came out toward me, and again the General bellowed a compliment. I can scarcely recall anything else that passed that evening. Yes, I remember that as I was taking my leave, to walk across the meadows with Guinea and Chyd, Millie stood in front of me. Once or twice I thought that she had something that she would tell me, for her lips moved, but she said nothing except to bid me good-night.