Their talk ended, husband and wife separated to their different dressing-rooms.

Elsie rang for her maid and Aunt Chloe appeared in answer to the summons.

Aunt Chloe was no longer young, or even elderly, but had attained to a healthy and vigorous old age and still so delighted in her old pleasant task of busying herself about the person of her young mistress, that she would only occasionally resign it to other hands.  She was a household dignitary, head tire-woman, and head nurse, and much looked up to by the younger servants.

She came in quietly and dropping a courtesy said, “Good mornin’, Miss Elsie, I hope you’s well, honey, but you’s up so mighty early.”

“Ah, mammy, I’m glad it is you, for I have something to tell you.  Yes, I’m quite well, thank you,” Elsie answered, then while making a rapid toilet, went on to relate the occurrences of the last few hours, winding up by putting the wounded guest in charge of Aunt Chloe and her husband.

The faithful old creature accepted the trust with evident pride in the confidence reposed in her.

“Dis chile an’ Uncle Joe’ll take care of him, honey, neber fear,” she said, carefully adjusting the folds of her mistress’s riding habit.  “I’ll nuss him to de best ob my disability, an’ de good Lord’ll soon make um well, I hope.”

“And you and Uncle Joe will be careful not to let any of the other servants know that he’s here?”

“Dat we will, darlin’, for shuah.”

The sun was just peeping above the horizon, as Mr. and Mrs. Travilla drew rein before the main entrance to the Fairview mansion.

Mrs. Leland came out to welcome them.  She was looking pale and worn, yet met them with a smile, and words of grateful appreciation of all their kindness, then, with the quick tears springing to her eyes, asked anxiously after her husband’s welfare.

“I think he is safe and will do well,” Mr. Travilla said.  “It seems to be only a flesh wound, and will soon heal with proper treatment and good nursing.  I shall go from here to Dr. Barton’s; calling for my wife on my return.  But first what can I do for you?  Ah, I see your door is quite demolished.  We must have it replaced with a new and stronger one before night.”

“Yes, that is the most pressing need just now,” said Mrs. Leland.  “Come in and look; there is really no other damage except a few bullet holes in the walls, and these blood-stains on the matting,” she said with a slight shudder; “and I am truly thankful to have escaped so well.”

They stepped into the hall, (their talk so far had been on the veranda,) and gazed with interest upon the marks of the night’s conflict, Mrs. Leland meanwhile giving a graphic account of it.

A servant was diligently at work cleaning the matting, and had nearly obliterated the stains left by the wounded Ku Klux.

“And you shot him, Mrs. Leland?” Elsie said inquiringly.