“Missy,” he said slowly, “I reckon you can go right in dar wid Queen Bess.”

She was a bit appalled.  “Maybe she wouldn’t like it,” she objected.

“She won’t keer if you don’t go too close.”

“I’m kinder ’feared.”

“Don’t gib her no chance to kick.  You’s all right, den.”

“Kick!” said the girl, amazed.  Kicking did not seem to her to fit the character of queens.

Neb unlocked the stable door.  “Or bite,” he added.

“Bite!  Dellaw!” the girl exclaimed, still more amazed.  How little she had learned of royalty up in the mountains!

The aged negro threw the door wide open.  “Go in, honey, now; go in,” he said.

“I’m skeered!” she said, and tiptoed to the stable door.  She peered in cautiously.  Then she turned and faced him with much-puzzled eyes.  “I don’t see nothin’ but a hoss,” she said.

“Uh-huh; dat’s Queen Bess.”  Old Neb stood chuckling, looking at her.

“Queen Bess is Mister Frank’s race-hoss!” she cried, delighted by the revelation.  “Well, now, I feel to home.”  She went into the stable with her bundle, half-closed the door and then peeped out at Neb.  “You won’t let any one come in?”

He held the key up reassuringly.  “Don’t you see I’s got de key, honey?”

“I’d feel safer if I had that key myself,” said she, and snatched it from him.  An instant later and the door was closed and locked on the inside.

Neb was alarmed.  He had disobeyed plain orders in letting her go in at all.  For him to let that key out of his possession was a further violation which he feared to be responsible for.  He pounded on the door.  “Open de doah, honey,” he implored.  “I mus’ hab dat key!”

“All right,” said she, “soon’s I am dressed.”

He fell back from the door dismayed.  “De Lawd help me!” he groaned.  “What’s I gwine ter do?  An’ I war so mighty firm ’bout dat key wid Marse Holton!” He paced the space before the stable door in agitation.  “But I reckon she’ll be t’rough befo’ Marse Frank comes,” he comforted himself.

She was not, though.  While Neb still paced the stable yard in acute worry, Frank, Miss Alathea, Barbara and Holton came toward him in a laughing group.  He almost fainted.

“Here we are, Neb,” his master cried, “ready for a look at Queen Bess.”

“Yessah, yessah, pwesently!” Neb stammered, and would have paled had nature made provision for such exhibition of his feelings.  “I jus’ nachelly hab got to speak to dem ar stable boys a minute, fust.  Jus’ ‘scuse me fo’ a minute, suh.”  He vanished hurriedly, hoping that by this diversion he could gain a little time for Madge and for himself.

Layson gazed after him with some astonishment, then went and tried the stable door.  “Of course the door’s locked,” he explained, annoyed, “but he’ll be back here in a minute.”

Miss Alathea smiled.  The attitude of the young master toward the aged negro often was amusing to her.  She liked to watch the constant evidence of that rare affection which formed an inseparable bond between them.