In town, a few days later, he saw a little fellow take off his hat when a lady passed him, and it set Chad to thinking.  He recalled asking the school-master once what was meant when the latter read about a knight doffing his plume, and the school-master had told him that men, in those days, took off their hats in the presence of ladies just as they did in the Bluegrass now; but Chad had forgotten.  He understood it all then and he surprised Margaret, next morning, by taking off his cap gravely when he spoke to her; and the little lady was greatly pleased, for her own brothers did not do that, at least, not to her, though she had heard her mother tell them that they must.  All this must be chivalry, Chad thought, and when Harry and Dan got well, he revived his old ideas, but Harry laughed at him and Dan did, too, until Chad, remembering Beelzebub, suggested that they should have a tournament with two rams that the General had tied up in the stable.  They would make spears and each would get on a ram.  Harry would let them out into the lot and they would have “a real charge—­sure enough.”  But Margaret received the plan with disdain, until Dan, at Chad’s suggestion, asked the General to read them the tournament scene in “Ivanhoe,” which excited the little lady a great deal; and when Chad said that she must be the “Queen of Love and Beauty” she blushed prettily and thought, after all, that it would be great fun.  They would make lances of ash-wood and helmets of tin buckets, and perhaps Margaret would make red sashes for them.  Indeed, she would, and the tournament would take place on the next Saturday.  But, on Saturday, one of the sheep was taken over to Major Buford’s and the other was turned loose in the Major’s back pasture and the great day had to be postponed.

It was on the night of the reading from “Ivanhoe” that Harry and Dan found out how Chad could play the banjo.  Passing old Mammy’s cabin that night before supper, the three boys had stopped to listen to old Tom play, and after a few tunes, Chad could stand it no longer.

“I foller pickin’ the banjer a leetle,” he said shyly, and thereupon he had taken the rude instrument and made the old negro’s eyes stretch with amazement, while Dan rolled in the grass with delight, and every negro who heard ran toward the boy.  After supper, Dan brought the banjo into the house and made Chad play on the porch, to the delight of them all.  And there, too, the servants gathered, and even old Mammy was observed slyly shaking her foot—­so that Margaret clapped her hands and laughed the old woman into great confusion.  After that no Saturday came that Chad did not spend the night at the Deans’, or Harry and Dan did not stay at Major Buford’s.  And not a Saturday passed that the three boys did not go coon-hunting with the darkies, or fox-hunting with the Major and the General.  Chad never forgot that first starlit night when he was awakened by the near winding of a horn and heard the Major jump from bed.  He jumped too, and when the Major reached the barn, a dark little figure was close at his heels.