“Dar now, Miss Lou, des lis’n.  P’raps tain ez bad ez you tink.  P’raps w’en Chunk ’splain all you see tain ez bad.  Hi!  Miss Lou, you musn’t took on so,” for the girl was wringing her hands and rocking back and forth in agony.  “Folks s’picion dat Chunk yere en dat ud be de eend ob him, sho.  He ain’ seen Marse Scoville daid sho.  He on’y see ’im fall.  Chunk wanter see you en he mighty skeery ’bout hit, kaze ef Perkins get on he track he done fer.  He ain’ see he granny yit en he darsn’t come dar twel hit late.  He larn ter toot lak a squinch-owl frum Marse Scoville en he tole me dat when he come agin he toot.  I nigh on run my legs off follerin’ up tootin’s o’ nights, fer dey wuz on’y pesky squinch-owls arter all.  Dis eb’nin’ I year a toot dat flutter my heart big en I knowed ’twuzn’t no squinch-owl dis time, sho,” and so Zany ran on in her canny shrewdness, for she perceived she was gaining Miss Lou’s attention and giving time for recovery from the blow.

Miss Lou had a despairing conviction that Chunk would not have returned alone unless his master was dead, but her mind quickly seized upon the element of uncertainty and she was eager to see the negro.

“We mus’ wait, we sut’ny mus’, twel Chunk kin creep ter he granny’s cabin.”

“I can’t wait, Zany.  It wouldn’t be best, either for me or Chunk.  It’s not very late yet, and I could visit Aun’ Jinkey without exciting remark if you go with me.  It’s too dark for Chunk to be seen and I’d protect him with my life.  I must get better ground for hope or my heart will break.  Pretend I wish a glass of water and see if we can’t slip out now.”

This Zany did, discovering that Mrs. Baron was with her husband in his office and that Mrs. Waldo had returned to her son’s room.

In a few moments Miss Lou was sitting by Aun’ Jinkey and tremblingly telling her fears.  Meanwhile Zany scouted around to insure immunity from observation.

“You po’, po’ chile!” groaned Aun’ Jinkey.  “I wuz a-hopin’ dat now you hab a time ob peace en quietness, en you des gwine ter be s’pended ’twixt hebin en yearth.”

“Oh, I fear he’s dead, my heart tells me he’s dead.  Oh, mammy, mammy, how can God be so cruel?  I don’t know who caused this war or who’s to blame, but I feel now as if I could torture them.”

“I’se feared dat ain’ de right speret, honey.”

“How can one have the right spirit when mocked by such a hope as I’ve had?  It needn’t have happened.  Oh, Mrs. Waldo, I could tell you now I’m no Christian at all.  I say it needn’t have happened.  And then think how Uncle Lusthah prayed!”

“Chunk down dar by de run, Miss Lou,” whispered Zany.  “I lis’n wid all my years en eyes.”

“Miss Lou, I’se yere in de shadder ob dis bush,” Chunk called softly.

“Tell me everything.”