“Have you heard the latest, Mr. Delamere?” asked the bartender, as he mixed a cocktail for his customer.

“No, Billy; what is it?”

“There’s to be a big cakewalk upstairs to-night.  The No’the’n gentlemen an’ ladies who are down here to see about the new cotton fact’ry want to study the nigger some more, and the boss has got up a cakewalk for ’em, ’mongst the waiters and chambermaids, with a little outside talent.”

“Is it to be public?” asked Delamere.

“Oh, no, not generally, but friends of the house won’t be barred out.  The clerk ’ll fix it for you.  Ransom, the head waiter, will be floor manager.”

Delamere was struck with a brilliant idea.  The more he considered it, the brighter it seemed.  Another cocktail imparted additional brilliancy to the conception.  He had been trying, after a feeble fashion, to keep his promise to Clara, and was really suffering from lack of excitement.

He left the bar-room, found the head waiter, held with him a short conversation, and left in his intelligent and itching palm a piece of money.

The cakewalk was a great success.  The most brilliant performer was a late arrival, who made his appearance just as the performance was about to commence.  The newcomer was dressed strikingly, the conspicuous features of his attire being a long blue coat with brass buttons and a pair of plaid trousers.  He was older, too, than the other participants, which made his agility the more remarkable.  His partner was a new chambermaid, who had just come to town, and whom the head waiter introduced to the newcomer upon his arrival.  The cake was awarded to this couple by a unanimous vote.  The man presented it to his partner with a grandiloquent flourish, and returned thanks in a speech which sent the Northern visitors into spasms of delight at the quaintness of the darky dialect and the darky wit.  To cap the climax, the winner danced a buck dance with a skill and agility that brought a shower of complimentary silver, which he gathered up and passed to the head waiter.

Ellis was off duty for the evening.  Not having ventured to put in an appearance at Carteret’s since his last rebuff, he found himself burdened with a superfluity of leisure, from which he essayed to find relief by dropping into the hotel office at about nine o’clock.  He was invited up to see the cakewalk, which he rather enjoyed, for there was some graceful dancing and posturing.  But the grotesque contortions of one participant had struck him as somewhat overdone, even for the comical type of negro.  He recognized the fellow, after a few minutes’ scrutiny, as the body-servant of old Mr. Delamere.  The man’s present occupation, or choice of diversion, seemed out of keeping with his employment as attendant upon an invalid old gentleman, and strangely inconsistent with the gravity and decorum which had been so noticeable when this agile cakewalker had served as butler at Major Carteret’s table, upon the occasion of the christening dinner.  There was a vague suggestion of unreality about this performance, too, which Ellis did not attempt to analyze, but which recurred vividly to his memory upon a subsequent occasion.