“I can use it and will,” said Whately, sternly.  “Perkins, keep your eyes wide open in my behalf.  If that Yankee or Chunk ever come within our reach again—­the nigger stole my horse and brought the Yank here too in time to prevent the wedding, I believe.”

“Reck’n he did, Leftenant.”

“Well, he and his master may be within our reach again.  We had better not be seen much together.  I will reward you well for any real service,” and he strode away in strong perturbation.

“Hang your reward,” muttered Perkins.  “You think you’re goin’ ter use me when the boot’s on t’other foot.  You shall pay me fer doin’ my work.  I couldn’t wish the gal nuthin’ worse than ter marry you.  That ud satisfy my grudge agin her, but ef I get my claws on that nigger en dom’neerin’ Yank of a master”—­his teeth came together after the grim fashion of a bulldog, by way of completing his soliloquy.

The spring evening deepened from twilight into dusk, the moon rose and shone with mild radiance over the scene that had abounded in gloom, tragedy and adventure the night before.  The conflict which then had taken place now caused the pathetic life-and-death struggles occurring in and about the old mansion.  In the onset of battle muscle and the impulse to destroy dominated; now the heart, with its deep longings, its memories of home and kindred, the soul with its solemn thoughts of an unknown phase of life which might be near, came to the fore, rendering the long, doubtful straggle complex indeed.

The stillness was broken only by the steps and voices of attendants and the irrepressible groans of those who watched for the day with hope that waxed and waned as the case might be.  Uncle Lusthah yearned over the Federal wounded with a great pity, the impression that they were suffering for him and his people banishing sleep.  He hovered among them all night long, bringing water to fevered lips and saying a word of Christian cheer to any who would listen.

Miss Lou wakened with the dawn and recognized with gladness that her strength and courage for work had been restored.  Even more potent than thoughts of Scoville was the impulse to be at work again, especially among those with whom she inevitably associated him.  Dressing hastily, she went first to see the old Confederate colonel.  He was evidently failing fast Ackley and an attendant were watching him.  He looked at the girl, smiled and held out his hand.  She took it and sat down beside him.

“Ah!” he said feebly, “this is a good deal better than dying alone.  Would you mind, my child, writing some things I would like to say to my family?”

Miss Lou brought her portfolio and tearfully received his dying messages.

“Poor little girl!” said the colonel, “you are witnessing scenes very strange to you.  Try to keep your heart tender and womanly, no matter what you see.  Such tears as yours reveal the power to help and bless, not weakness.  I can say to you all the sacred, farewell words which would be hard to speak to others.”