The first rift of light in the sky found the judge stirring; it found him in his usual cheerful frame of mind.  He disposed of his toilet and breakfast with the greatest expedition.

“Will you stroll into town with me, Solomon?” he asked, when they had eaten.  Mahaffy shook his head, his air was still plainly hostile.  “Then let your prayers follow me, for I’m off!” said the judge.

Ten minutes’ walk brought him to the door of the city tavern, where he found Mr. Pegloe directing the activities of a small colored boy who was mopping out his bar.  To him the judge made known his needs.

“Goin’ to locate, are you?” said Mr. Pegloe.

“My friends urge it, sir, and I have taken the matter under consideration,” answered the judge.

“Sho, do you know any folks hereabouts?” asked Mr. Pegloe.

“Not many,” said the judge, with reserve.

“Well, the only empty house in town is right over yonder; it belongs to young Charley Norton out at Thicket Point Plantation.”

Ah-h!” said the judge.

The house Mr. Pegloe had pointed out was a small frame building; it stood directly on the street, with a narrow porch across the front, and a shed addition at the back.  The judge scuttled over to it.  With his hands clasped under the tails of his coat he walked twice about the building, stopping to peer in at all the windows, then he paused and took stock of his surroundings.  Over the way was Pegloe’s City Tavern; farther up the street was the court-house, a square wooden box with a crib that housed a cracked bell, rising from a gable end.  The judge’s pulse quickened.  What a location, and what a fortunate chance that Mr. Norton was the owner of this most desirable tenement

He must see him at once.  As he turned away to recross the street and learn from Mr. Pegloe by what road Thicket Point might be reached, Norton himself galloped into the village.  Catching sight of the judge, he reined in. his horse and swung himself from the saddle.

“I was hoping, sir, I might find you,” he said, as they met before the tavern.

“A wish I should have echoed had I been aware of it!” responded the judge.  “I was about to do myself the honor to wait upon you at your plantation.”

“Then I have saved you a long walk,” said Norton.  He surveyed the judge rather dubiously, but listened with great civility and kindness as he explained the business that would have taken him to Thicket Point.

“The house is quite at your service, sir,” he said, at length.

“The rent—­” began the judge.  He had great natural delicacy always in mentioning matters of a financial nature.

But Mr. Norton, with a delicacy equal to his own, entreated him not to mention the rent.  The house had come to him as boot in a trade.  It had been occupied by a doctor and a lawyer; these gentlemen had each decamped between two days, heavily in debt at the stores and taverns, especially the taverns.