“Forgotten me, Capua?” said she.

“Lors, Miss Kate!” he replied, scraping his foot and pulling off his hat,—­“Cap never f’gets his friends, though you’ve growed.  How d’ye do, Miss Kate?”

“Nicely, thank you.  And how’s your wife?”

“My wife?  Well, she’s ’bout beat out.  Massa Roger ‘n’ I, we buried her; finer funeral dan Massa Roger’s own mother, Miss Kate, dat was!”

“Poor fellow!  I’m so sorry!” began Mrs. McLean, consolingly.

“Well, Miss Kate, you know some folks is easier spared ’n others.  Some tongues sharper ’n others.  Alwes liked to gib a hot temper time to cool, ’s Massa says.”

“And how do you do, Capua?”

“Pretty well, Miss Kate; leastways, I’se well enough,—­a’n’t so pretty.”

“What is his name?” whispered Helen.

“’Annible, Missis,” said the attentive Capua, whose eyes had been for some time oscillating with indecision between Helen Heath and Mrs. Laudersdale.  “Hannibal Raleigh’s my name; though Massa alwes call me Cap,” he added, insinuatingly,—­which, by the way, “Massa” never had been known to do.

“And are you always going to stay and take care of Master Roger?”

“’Spect I shall.  Lors, Miss Kate, he’s more bother to me ’n all my work,—­dat boy!”

“That will do, Capua,” said his master; “you may go.”  And therewith Capua scuffled away.

“Well, Roger, what does this mean?” asked Mrs. McLean, as the door closed.

“It means that Capua, having been dying of curiosity, has resolved to die game, and therefore takes matters into his own hands, and arrives to inspect my conduct and my company.”

“Ah, I see.  He trembles for his sceptre.”

“Miss Heath,” said Mr. McLean, rallyingly, “you received a great many of the sable shafts.”

“A Saint Sebastiana,” said his wife.

“Did Saint Sebastian die of his wounds?” asked Helen.

“Let me tell you, Miss Helen,” said Mr. Raleigh, “that Capua is a connoisseur, and his dictum is worth all flatteries.  If he had only been with us this morning!”

“You have teased me so much about that, Mr. Raleigh, that I have half a mind never to go with you on another expedition.”

“Make no rash vows.  I was just thinking what fine company you would be when trouting.  The most enchanting quiet is required then, you are aware.”

“Oh! when shall we go trouting?”

“We?  It was only half a mind, then!  We will go to-morrow, wind and weather agreeing.”

“And what must I do?”

“You must keep still, stand in the shadow, and fish up-stream.”

At this point, Capua put his head inside the door again.

“What is it?” asked Mr. Raleigh.

“Forgot to say, Massa,” replied Capua, rolling his eyes fearfully, and still hesitating, and half-closing the door, and then looking back.

“Well, Capua?”