a while he would give him his head, the reins
lying loose, the horse picking his way in a walk. Then the bitterness
of his father's words and how undeserved they were, and how the house
of cards his hopes had built up had come tumbling down about his ears
at the first point of contact would rush over him, and he would dig his
heels into the horse's flanks and send him at full gallop through the
night along the pale ribbon of a road barely discernible in the ghostly
dark. When, however, Alec's sobs smote his ear, or the white face of his
mother confronted him, the animal would gradually slacken his pace and
drop into a walk.

Dominated by these emotions certain fixed resolutions at last took
possession of him: He would see his mother at once, no matter at what
cost--even if he defied his father--and then he would find his uncle.
Whether he would board the next vessel heaving port and return to his
work in the mountains, or whether he would bring his uncle back from
Craddock and the two, with his own vigorous youth and new experience of
the world, fight it out together as they had once done before, depended
on what St. George advised. Now that Kate's marriage was practically
decided upon, one sorrow--and his greatest--was settled forever. Any
others that were in store for him he would meet as they came.

With his mind still intent on these plans he rode at last into the open
door of the small courtyard of the livery stable and drew rein under a
swinging lantern. It was past ten at night, and the place was deserted,
except by a young negro who advanced to take his horse. Tossing the
bridle aside he slipped to the ground.

"He's wet," Harry said, "but he's all right. Let him cool off gradually,
and don't give him any water until he gets dry. I'll come in to-morrow
and pay your people what I owe them."

The negro curry-combed his fingers down the horse's flanks as if to
assure himself of his condition, and in the movement brought his face
under the glare of the overhead light.

Harry grabbed him by the shoulder and swung him round.

"Todd--you rascal! What are you doing here? Why are you not down on the
Eastern Shore?" His astonishment was so intense that for an instant he
could not realize he had the right man.

The negro drew back. He was no runaway slave, and he didn't intend to be
taken for one--certainly not by a man as rough and suspicious looking as
the one before him.

"How you know my name, man?" He was ner