“If you lie again I will punish you,” said Col.  Zane sternly.  “You are getting old, Sam, and I would not like to whip you, but I will if you do not find that letter.”

Sam grumbled, and shuffled inside the cabin.  Col.  Zane heard him rummaging around.  Presently he came back to the door and handed a very badly soiled paper to the Colonel.

“What possessed you to do this, Sam?  You have always been honest.  Your act has caused great misunderstanding and it might have led to worse.”

“He’s one of dem no good Southern white trash; he’s good fer nuttin’,” said Sam.  “I saw yo’ sistah, Mis’ Betty, wit him, and I seen she was gittin’ fond of him, and I says I ain’t gwinter have Mis’ Betty runnin’ off wif him.  And I’se never gibbin de lettah to her.”

That was all the explanation Sam would vouchsafe, and Col.  Zane, knowing it would be useless to say more to the well-meaning but ignorant and superstitious old negro, turned and wended his way back to the house.  He looked at the paper and saw that it was addressed to Elizabeth Zane, and that the ink was faded until the letters were scarcely visible.

“What have you there?” asked his wife, who had watched him go up the hill to the negro’s cabin.  She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that her husband’s face had recovered its usual placid expression.

“It is a little letter for that young fire-brand up stairs, and, I believe it will clear up the mystery.  Clarke gave it to Sam last fall and Sam never gave it to Betty.”

“I hope with all my heart it may settle Betty.  She worries me to death with her love affairs.”

Col.  Zane went up stairs and found the young lady exactly as he had left her.  She gave an impatient toss of her head as he entered.

“Well, Madam, I have here something that may excite even your interest.” he said cheerily.

“What?” asked Betty with a start.  She flushed crimson when she saw the letter and at first refused to take it from her brother.  She was at a loss to understand his cheerful demeanor.  He had been anything but pleasant a few moments since.

“Here, take it.  It is a letter from Mr. Clarke which you should have received last fall.  That last morning he gave this letter to Sam to deliver to you, and the crazy old nigger kept it.  However, it is too late to talk of that, only it does seem a great pity.  I feel sorry for both of you.  Clarke never will forgive you, even if you want him to, which I am sure you do not.  I don’t know exactly what is in this letter, but I know it will make you ashamed to think you did not trust him.”

With this parting reproof the Colonel walked out, leaving Betty completely bewildered.  The words “too late,” “never forgive,” and “a great pity” rang through her head.  What did he mean?  She tore the letter open with trembling hands and holding it up to the now fast-waning light, she read

“Dear Betty: