ir hanging down upon his
shoulders. His face, of a highbred and strongly marked type,
emphasised by age, had the hawk-like contour, that is supposed to
betoken extreme acquisitiveness. His faded eyes were turned toward a
woman, dressed in a homespun frock and a muslin cap, who sat bolt
upright, in a straight-backed chair, at the other end of the piazza,
with her hands folded on her lap, looking fixedly toward her
_vis-a-vis_. Neither of them paid the slightest attention to the
colonel, and when the old man rose, it was not to step forward and
welcome his visitor, but to approach and halt in front of the woman.

"Viney," he said, sharply, "I am tired of this nonsense. I insist upon
knowing, immediately, where my uncle left the money."

The woman made no reply, but her faded eyes glowed for a moment, like
the ashes of a dying fire, and her figure stiffened perceptibly as she
leaned slightly toward him.

"Show me at once, you hussy," he said, shaking his fist, "or you'll
have reason to regret it. I'll have you whipped." His cracked voice
rose to a shrill shriek as he uttered the threat.

The slumbrous fire in the woman's eyes flamed up for a moment. She
rose, and drawing herself up to her full height, which was greater
than the old man's, made some incoherent sounds, and bent upon him a
look beneath which he quailed.

"Yes, Viney, good Viney," he said, soothingly, "I know it was wrong,
and I've always regretted it, always, from the very moment. But you
shouldn't bear malice. Servants, the Bible says, should obey their
masters, and you should bless them that curse you, and do good to them
that despitefully use you. But I was good to you before, Viney, and I
was kind to you afterwards, and I know you've forgiven me, good Viney,
noble-hearted Viney, and you're going to tell me, aren't you?" he
pleaded, laying his hand caressingly upon her arm.

She drew herself away, but, seemingly mollified, moved her lips as
though in speech. The old man put his hand to his ear and listened
with an air of strained eagerness, well-nigh breathless in its
intensity.

"Try again, Viney," he said, "that's a good girl. Your old master
thinks a great deal of you, Viney. He is your best friend!"

Again she made an inarticulate response, which he nevertheless seemed
to comprehend, for, brightening up immediately, he turned from her,
came down the steps with tremulous haste, muttering to himself
meanwhile, seized a spade that stood leaning