We watched a slow, deep-laden boat sliding down toward the draw, across which we made our way, and drew near the further end of the bridge.  The straight avenue of the road in front of us took my eyes down its quiet vista, until they were fixed suddenly by an alien object, a growing dot, accompanied by dust, whence came the small, distorted honks of an automobile.  These fat, importunate sounds redoubled as the machine rushed toward the bridge, growing up to its full staring, brazen dimensions.  Six or seven figures sat in it, all of the same dusty, shrouded likeness, their big glass eyes and their masked mouths suggesting some fabled, unearthly race, a family of replete and bilious ogres; so that as they flew honking by us I called out to John:—­

“Behold the yellow rich!” and then remembered that his Hortense probably sat among them.

The honks redoubled, and we turned to see that the drawbridge had no thought of waiting for them.  We also saw a bewildered curly white dog and a young girl, who called despairingly to him as he disappeared beneath the automobile.  The engine of murder could not, as is usual, proceed upon its way, honking, for the drawbridge was visibly swinging open to admit the passage of the boat.  When John and I had run back near enough to become ourselves a part of the incident, the white dog lay still behind the stationary automobile, whose passengers were craning their muffled necks and glass eyes to see what they had done, while one of their number had got out, and was stooping to examine if the machine had sustained any injuries.  The young girl, with a face of anguish, was calling the dog’s name as she hastened toward him, and her voice aroused him:  he lifted his head, got on his legs, and walked over to her, which action on his part brought from the automobile a penetrating female voice:—­

“Well, he’s in better luck than that Savannah dog!”

But General was not in luck.  He lay quietly down at the feet of his mistress and we soon knew that life had passed from his faithful body.  The first stroke of grief, dealt her in such cruel and sudden form, overbore the poor girl’s pride and reserve; she made no attempt to remember or heed surroundings, but kneeling and placing her arms about the neck of her dead servant, she spoke piteously aloud:—­

“And I raised him, I raised him from a puppy!”

The female voice, at this, addressed the traveller who was examining the automobile:  “Charley, a five or a ten spot is what her feelings need.”

The obedient and munificent Charley straightened up from his stooping among the mechanical entrails, dexterously produced money, and advanced with the selected bill held out politely in his hand, while the glass eyes and the masks peered down at the performance.  Eliza La Heu had perceived none of this, for she was intent upon General; nor had John Mayrant, who had approached her with the purpose of coming to her aid.  But when Charley, quite at hand, began to speak words which were instantly obliterated from my memory by what happened, the young girl realized his intention and straightened stiffly, while John, with the rapidity of light, snatched the extended bill from Charley’s hand, and tearing it in four pieces, threw it in his face.