Mr. Fuller, the
overseer, who will assign you a place. Now go, deceitful thief and
liar--your punishment is but too mild."

China, in going out from the home of her master, would fain have gone
around by the grave of Ellice. But, besides thinking she might be
watched, she felt in her disgrace too unworthy to kneel upon that sacred
soil.

So, scarcely able to hold herself upright, which she must needs do, in
order to support her bundle upon her head, she walked wearily onward,
from the fair white house of Kennons, down the well-worn path that led
to the rude, unsightly cabins of the field-hands, still more rude.

She was still weak, and suffering from effects of the harsh emetic, and
this, with her shame and sorrow at her crime, more than her banishment,
rendered her hopeless and wretched.

Duncan Lisle was riding slowly homeward from a consultation with his
overseer. Whose was that reeling, swaying figure in the path before him?
Not China of pleasant face, of quiet speech and mien? No, and yes. What
could it mean? What mortal sickness of mind or body had wrought such
ghastly woe in the face but yesterday so placid?

"Are you China, or China's ghost?" questioned he, drawing rein as he
came up to this favorite house-servant.

"You have said it, master Duncan; I am but the ghost of poor China," and
the ponderous bundle dropped first to the horse's nose and then at his
forefeet, while her face fell into her trembling hands, her tears
flowing down through her fingers, the first that she had shed.

"Tell me all about it, China--but the sun is hot, come under the shade
of this tree," and the master led the way to an umbrageous beech close
by. There, still resting upon his horse, while China leaned against the
enormous trunk, the story was told of the day's doings without
exaggeration or extenuation.

Though it was a clear story of theft and falsehood, Duncan Lisle
naturally took the same view of it as had the humble Amy. The master of
Kennons had not been ignorant of his wife's systematic persecution of
this inoffensive servant. He had more than once spoken to her on the
subject--but finding he had but made the matter worse, ceased to
interfere. Now, he suspected China to be the victim of a successful
plot. His wife had made a bold move, and without his sanction. A more
fiery man, yielding to indignation and to a sense of the injustice
wrought, would have taken China home again, saying to his wife both by
word and ac