Not only was he puzzled, but Zany also and Aun’ Jinkey were sore perplexed at Miss Lou’s silence.  She had stood motionless and unheeding through the colloquy with the overseer, and now remained equally deaf and unresponsive to the homely expressions of sympathy and encouragement of the two women.  They could not see her face, but quickly felt the dread which anything abnormal inspires in the simple-minded.  Prone to wild abandon in the expression of their own strong emotions, the silent, motionless figure of the young girl caused a deeper apprehension than the most extravagant evidences of grief.

“Aun’ Jinkey,” whispered Zany, “you mus’ des he’p me git her to her room.”

She went with them without word or sign.  Their alarm was deepened when they saw her deathly pale and almost rigid features by the light of her candle.

“Miss Lou, honey, speak ter yo’ ole mammy.  You broke my heart w’en you look dat away.”

“I tell you he’s dead,” whispered the girl.

“Dis ter’ble,” groaned the old woman. “‘Fo’ de Lawd I dunno w’at er do.”

Zany felt instinctively that the girl was beyond their simple ministrations and she was desperately afraid that if Mrs. Baron came Chunk’s presence would be revealed by words spoken unconsciously.  She and Aun’ Jinkey promptly agreed that Mrs. Waldo was their only hope and Zany flew to summon her.

Fortunately the lady had not retired and she came at once.  “Louise, Miss Baron, what is the matter?” she asked in strong solicitude.

“I tell you, he’s dead,” again whispered the girl, looking as if a scene of horror were before her eyes.  “The Rebs were so near when they fired, and he fell off his horse sudden.  Ch—­”

Quick as light Zany’s hand was over the girl’s mouth.  The scared face and trembling form of the young negress did not escape Mrs. Waldo’s quick eye.

“Zany, what are you concealing?” she asked, sternly.  “What does all this mean?”

“Dar now, misus,” answered Aun’ Jinkey with a certain simple dignity, “we mus’ des trus you.  I’se yeared you a lubin’ serbent ob de Lawd.  Ef you is, you am’ gwine ter bring mis’ry on mis’ry.  We mus’ brung Miss Lou roun’ sudden ‘fo’ ole miss comes.  He’p us git young mistis sens’ble en I tell you eberyting I kin.  Dere ain’ not’n bade ‘bout dis honey lam’ ob mine.”

They undressed the girl as if she were a helpless child and put her to bed, and then Zany went downstairs to keep Mrs. Baron out of the way if possible, at the same time listening intently for any signs of trouble to Chunk.

Miss Lou’s over-taxed mind had given way, or rather was enchained by a spell of horror to the scenes presented all too vividly in Chunk’s bald statement.  Her nervous force had been too enfeebled and exhausted to endure the shock of an impression so tremendous in its tragic reality that her faculties had no power to go beyond it.  Chunk’s words had brought her to a darkening forest and her dead lover, and there she stayed.