that Mr. Croyden is at Clarendon,
and ask him to come out at once. Or, stay, I'll give you a note to
him."

He took a card from his pocketbook, wrote a few lines on it, and gave
it to the negro.

"Yass, seh! Yass, seh!" said the porter, and, dropping the grip where
he stood, he vanished.

Old Mose dusted the stool with his sleeve, and proffered it.

"Set down, seh!" with another bow. "Josh won' be long."

Croyden shook his head.

"I'll lie here," he answered, stretching himself out on the grass. "You
were Colonel Duval's body-servant, you say."

"Yass, seh! from de time I wuz so 'igh. I don' 'member when I warn' he
body-survent. I follows 'im all th'oo de war, seh, an' I wus wid 'im
when he died." Tears were in the darky's eyes. "Hit's purty nigh time
ole Mose gwine too."

"And when he died, you stayed and looked after the old place. That was
the right thing to do," said Croyden. "Didn't Colonel Duval have any
children?"

"No, seh. De Cun'l nuvver married, cuz Miss Penelope----"

He caught himself. "I toles yo 'bout hit some time, seh, mebbe!" he
ended cautiously--talking about family matters with strangers was not
to be considered.

"I should like to hear some time," said Croyden, not seeming to notice
the darky's reticence. "When did the Colonel die?"

"Eight years ago cum corn plantin' time, seh. He jes' wen' right off
quick like, when de mis'ry hit 'im in de chist--numonya, de doctors
call'd it. De Cun'l guv de place to a No'thern gent'man, whar was he
'ticular frien', and I done stay on an' look arfter hit. He nuvver been
heah. Hi! listen to dis nigger! yo's de gent'mans, mebbe."

"I am his son," said Croyden, amused.

"An' yo owns Cla'endon, now, seh? What yo goin' to do wid it?"

"I'm going to live here. Don't you want to look after me?"

"Goin' to live heah!--yo means it, seh?" the darky asked, in great
amazement.

Croyden nodded. "Provided you will stay with me--and if you can find me
a cook. Who cooks your meals?"

"Lawd, seh! find yo a cook. Didn' Jos'phine cook fur de Cun'l all he
life--Jos'phine, she my wife, seh--she jest gone nex' do', 'bout
some'n." He got up--"I calls her, seh."

Croyden stopped him.

"Never mind," he said; "she will be back, presently, and there is ample
time. Any one live in these other cabins?"

"No, seh! we's all wha' left. De udder niggers done gone 'way, sence de
Cun'l died, coz deah war nothin' fur dem to do no mo', an' no buddy to
pays dem.--Dyar is