Mrs. Whately guessed much that was passing in her mind, and sighed deeply.

At the veranda steps stood Uncle Lusthah, hat in hand and heading a delegation from the quarters.  The general said, “Wait a moment,” then despatched one of his staff to the ridge with orders.  “Now, my man.”

Uncle Lusthah bowed profoundly and began, “De young Linkum ossifer said, las’ night, how you tell us mo’ dis mawnin’ ’bout our freedom.”

“You are free.  Mr. Lincoln’s proclamation makes you all free.”

“Kin we uns go ’long wid you, mars’r?  Folks des seem kiner deef ’bout dat ar prockermation in dese parts.”

“No, my man, you can’t go with us.  We are marching much too rapidly for you to keep up.  Stay here where you are known.  Make terms with your master for wages or share in the crops.  If it is necessary, the people about here will probably soon again hear the proclamation from our cannon.  Mr. Baron, why don’t you gain the goodwill of those people and secure their co-operation?  They will be worth more to you as freemen, and they are free.  I give you friendly advice.  Accept what you can’t help.  Adapt yourselves to the new order of things.  Any other course will be just as futile as to resolve solemnly that you will have nothing to do with steam, but travel as they did in Abraham’s time.”

Miss Lou looked at her uncle curiously to see how he would take this advice.  His coldness of manner and silence told how utterly lost upon him it was.  The general looked at him a moment, and then said gravely, “Mr. Baron, such men as you are the enemies of your section, not such men as I. Good-morning, sir.  Good-by, my child.  Heaven bless and protect you!” With a stately bow to Mrs. Whately he departed and was soon on the ridge again with his men.

“I wonder if Abraham and the Patriarchs would have been any more ready for the new order of things than uncle?” Miss Lou thought as she went to find Scoville.

“He down at Aun’ Jinkey’s cabin.  Chunk took he dinner dar,” Zany whispered.

“He des step ter de run ter wash he han’s en face,” said Aun’ Jinkey a little later.

Passing some screening shrubbery, the girl saw him standing on the spot from which he had been carried insensible by her directions so brief a time before.  “Your dinner is ready,” she called.

He came to her quickly and said, “I’ve been trying to realize all that has happened since I fell at your feet yonder.”

“Far more has happened to me than to you,” she replied.  “It seems years since then; I’ve seen and learned so much.”

“I wish to ask you something,” he said earnestly.

“That scamp, Perkins, fired on me at close range.  You stood just over him and I heard what you said.  How happened it that his bullet flew so wide of the mark?”

She began laughing as she asked, “Have you never heard that there was luck in throwing an old shoe?  I hit Perkins over the eyes with one of mine.”