ood for a moment speechless before his
young enemy.

"You would what, sir," says George, very quietly, "if you did not love
my grandfather, and my brother, and my mother? You are making her
petticoat a plea for some conduct of yours! You would do what, sir, may
I ask again?"

"I would put you across my knee and whip you, you snarling little puppy!
That's what I would do!" cried the Colonel, who had found breath by this
time, and vented another explosion of fury.

"Because you have known us all our lives, and made our house your own,
that is no reason why you should insult either of us!" here cried Harry,
starting up. "What you have said, George Washington, is an insult to me
and my brother alike. You will ask our pardon, sir!"

"Pardon!"

"Or give us the reparation that is due to gentlemen," continues Harry.

The stout Colonel's heart smote him to think that he should be at mortal
quarrel, or called upon to shed the blood of one of the lads he loved. As
Harry stood facing him, with his fair hair, flushing cheeks, and
quivering voice, an immense tenderness and kindness filled the bosom of
the elder man. "I--I am bewildered," he said. "My words, perhaps, were
very hasty. What has been the meaning of George's behaviour to me for
months back? Only tell me, and, perhaps--"

The evil spirit was awake and victorious in young George Warrington; his
black eyes shot out scorn and hatred at the simple and guileless
gentleman before him. "You are shirking from the question, sir, as you
did from the toast just now," he said. "I am not a boy to suffer under
your arrogance. You have publicly insulted me in a public place, and I
demand a reparation."

"As you please, George Warrington--and God forgive you, George! God
pardon you, Harry! for bringing me into this quarrel," said the Colonel,
with a face full of sadness and gloom.

Harry hung his head, but George continued with perfect calmness: "I, sir?
It was not I who called names, who talked of a cane, who insulted a
gentleman in a public place before the gentlemen of the army. It is not
the first time you have chosen to take me for a negro, and talked of the
whip for me."

The Colonel started back, turning very red, and as if struck by a sudden
remembrance.

"Great heavens, George! is it that boyish quarrel you are still
recalling?"

"Who made you overseer of Castlewood?" said the boy, grinding his teeth.
"I am not your slave, George Washington, and I never will be. I