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"I knew it! I knew it was her! Ah, you rogue, you know it was her!"

"Miz Wall!" cried the husband--"She's busy talkin'.--Miz Wall!--she don't hyuh me. I hate to interrupt heh.--Oh, Miz Wall! hyuh's Majo' Harper's clerk, right now!"

"What's the name, General, of the man whose house I'm to go to?"

"I was so anxious about you," she replied, with feeling, and then broke into a quizzical laugh.

"Tell her I tried to keep my promise to her."

"And was care for me your only motive in--"

"It's twenty miles off; why are you not with it? What are you doing here?"

Day came swiftly. By the time I could trot down to the sycamore it was perfectly light even in the shade of an old cotton-gin house close inside the corner of the small field around which I was to turn. The vast arms of its horse-power press, spreading rigidly downward, offered the only weird aspect that lingered in the lovely morning. I have a later and shuddering memory of it, but now the dewy air was full of sweet odors, the squirrel barked from the woods, the woodpecker tapped, and the lark, the cardinal and the mocking-bird were singing all around. The lint-box of the old cotton-press was covered with wet morning-glories. I took the bridle-path between the woods and the field and very soon was down in the dense forest beyond them. But the moment I was hid from house and clearing I turned my horse square to the left, stooped to his neck, and made straight through the pathless tangle.

"Never mind, we must have a long talk. At present there is a verbal message for me; what is it?"

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