only when he found himself opposite the cemetery, on the road leading to “Elm Bluff.”  As the iron gate closed behind him, he walked his horse, up the long avenue, and when he fastened him to the metal ring in the ancient poplar, which stood sentinel before the deserted House, the deep orange glow that paves the way for coming suns, had dyed all the sky, blotting out the stars; and the new day smiled upon a sleeping world.  The peacock perched upon the balustrade of the terrace greeted him vociferously, and after some moments his repeated knock was answered by the cautious opening of the front door, and Bedney’s gray head peered out.

“Lord—­Mars Lennox!  Is it you?  What next?  ’Pears to me, there’s nothing left to happen; but howsomever, if ther’s more to come, tell us what’s to pay now?”

“Bedney, I want you to help me in a little matter, where your services may be very valuable; and as it concerns your old master’s family, I am sure you will gladly enter into my plan—­”

“Bless your soul, Mars Lennox, you are too good a lieyer to be shore of anything, but the undertaker and the tax collector.  I am so old and broke down in sperrits, that you will s’cuse me from undertaking of any jobs, where I should be obleeged to pull one foot out’en the grave before I could start.  I ain’t ekal to hard work now, and like the rest of wore-out stock, I am only worth my grabs in old fields.”

Sniffing danger, Bedney warily resolved to decline all overtures, by taking refuge in his decrepitude; but the attorney’s steady prolonged gaze disconcerted him.

“You have no interest, then, in discovering the wretch who murdered your master?  That is rather suspicious.”

“What ain’t ’spicious to you, Mars Lennox?  It comes as natchal to you to ’spicion folks, as to eat or sleep, and it’s your trade.  You believe I know something that I haven’t tole; but I swear I done give up everything to Mars Alfred; and if my heart was turned inside out, and scraped with a fine-tooth comb, it wouldn’t be no cleaner than what it is.  I know if I was lying you would ketch me, and I should own up quick; ’cause your match doesn’t go about in human flesh; but all the lancets and all the doctors can’t git no blood out’en a turnup.”

“You are quite willing, then, to see General Darrington’s granddaughter suffer for the crime?”

“’Fore Gord!  Mars Lennox, you don’t tote fair!  ’Pears to me you are riding two horses.  Which side is you on?”

“Always on the side of justice and truth, and it is to help your poor young mistress that I came to see you; but it seems you are too superannuated to stretch out your hand and save her.”

“Ain’t you aiming to prove she killed old marster?  That’s what you sot out to do; and tarrapin’s claws are slippery, compared to your grip, when you take holt.”

The old negro stood with his white head thrown back, and unfeigned perplexity printed on his wrinkled features, while he scanned the swart face, where a heavy frown gathered.