“Oh, keep your powder dry, Jack!  I never dreamed of stirring ’em up.  What I mean is, that they are all restless and uneasy.  They have an idea that ‘Massa Linculm’ is coming down with a big army to set them free.  Many of them want to fly to meet this army.  Many, too, would almost rather die than leave their mistress.  None of them—­but the very bad ones—­could be induced under any circumstances to lift their hands against the family or its property.”

“I should hope not—­at least through our instrumentality.  The time must come when they will leave the family, for the one call only and in one way; that is, by cutting out slavery root and branch.  However, that’s for the politicians to manage; all we have to do is to stand by the colors and fight.”

“I don’t see much chance of standing by the colors here,” Dick retorted, wrathfully.  “If you’ll give me the word, I’ll arrange a plan, and, as soon as Vincent goes—­we’ll be off.”

“I’m not your master, you young hornet; I can’t see what you’re doing all the time.  All I can do is to approve or reject such doings of yours as you bring me to decide on.”

Dick’s eyes sparkled.  “All right, I’ll keep you posted, never fear.”

They were a very jovial group that prattled about the long Rosedale dining-table daily now, since every one was able to come down.  The house was furnished in the easy unpretentiousness that prevailed in the South in other days.  Cool matting covered all the floors, the hallways, and bedchambers.  The dining-room opened into a drawing-room, where Kate and Olympia took turns at the big piano.  The day was divided, English fashion, into breakfast, luncheon, dinner, and supper, the latter as late as nine o’clock in the night.  Jack being unprovided with regimentals, Vincent wore civilian garb, to spare the “prisoner” (as Jack jocosely called himself) mortification.  Gray was the “only wear” obtainable in Richmond, Mrs. Atterbury enjoying with gentle malice the rueful perplexities of her prisoner guests, Jack, Wesley, and Richard, as they surrounded the board in this rebel attire.

“I shall feel as uncertain of myself when I get back to blue, as I do in chess, after I have played a long while with the black, changing to white.  I manoeuvre for some time for the discarded color,” Jack said, one evening.

“Oh, you’ll hardly forget in this case,” Rosa said, saucily; “it is for the blacks you are manoeuvring constantly.”

Jack looked up, startled, and glanced swiftly at Dick.  Had that headstrong young marplot been detected in treason with the colored people?  No.  Dick met his glance clear-eyed, unconstrained.  The shot must have been a random one.

“I think you do us injustice, Miss Rosa,” Wesley said.  “I, for one, am not interested in the blacks.  All I want is the Union; after that I don’t care a rush!”

“I protest against politics,” Mrs. Atterbury intervened, gently.  “When I was a girl the young people found much more interesting subjects than politics.”