“Doan you worry, honey, ‘bout we uns,” said Aun’ Suke quietly.  “We yeard de soun’ fum far away, en we year it agin soon.”

Meanwhile Mad Whately was closeted with his uncle and mother, listening with a black frown to all that had occurred.

“I tell you,” exclaimed the young man, “it’s as clear as the sun in the sky that she should be sent away at once—­in fact, that you all should go.”

“I won’t go,” said Mr. Baron, “neither will my wife.  If the country has come to such a pass that we must die on our hearths we will die right here.”

“Then with my whole authority, mother, I demand that you and my cousin go at once while opportunity still remains.  The forces on both sides are concentrating here, and this house may soon be in the midst of a battle.  Lou will be exposed to every chance of war.  By Heaven! the girl to be my wife shall not trifle with me longer.  Oh, mother! how could you let her walk and talk alone with that Yankee officer?”

“I tell you both you are taking the wrong course with Louise,” began Mrs. Whately.

“You never spoke a truer word, auntie,” said Miss Lou, entering.

Stung to the quick, Whately sprang up and said sternly, “In this emergency I am the head of my family.  I command you to be ready within an hour to go away with my mother.  Perkins and a small guard will go with you to my cousin’s house.”

“Go away with that cowardly wretch, Perkins?  Never!”

“You are to go away with your aunt and my mother, and you cannot help yourself.  Your readiness to receive attentions from a miserable Yankee cub shows how little you are to be trusted.  I tell you for the honor of our house you shall go away.  I’d shoot you rather than have it occur again.”

“You silly, spoiled, passionate boy!” exclaimed Miss Lou, rendered self-possessed by the very extravagance of her cousin’s anger.  “Do you suppose I will take either command or counsel from one who is beside himself?  Come, Cousin Mad, cool off, or you’ll have some more repenting at leisure to do.”

She walked quietly out of the room to the veranda just as Major Brockton was about to announce himself.

“Miss Baron, I presume,” he said, doffing his hat.

“Yes, sir.  Please sit down.  I think we shall soon be summoned to breakfast.  If the worst comes to the worst,” she resolved, “I can appeal to this officer for protection.”

“Mother,” said Whately in a choking voice, “be ready to go the moment you have your breakfast.”

His passion was so terrible that she made a feint of obeying, while he rushed out of the rear door.  Perkins readily entered into the plan, and gave Whately further distorted information about Miss Lou’s recent interview with Scoville.  Mrs. Whately’s horses were quickly harnessed to her carriage, and Perkins drove it near to the back entrance to the mansion.

As Whately entered, his mother put her hand on his arm, and warned, “Madison, I fear you are all wrong—­”