eep, for hearing
Ephraim talk, and that lusty darkey had sadly mixed his imagination
and his facts.

The old man went out: "Don't be uneasy," said Captain Tom. "I am
going to saddle John Paul Jones and ride over the scenes of my youth.
They might see me by daylight, and the moonlight is so beautiful
to-night. I long to see The Gaffs, and Westmoreland, my grandfather's
grave," and then in a tenderer tone--"and my father's; he lies buried
in the flag I love."

He smiled sadly and went out.

John Paul Jones had been comfortably housed in the little stable
nearby. He nickered affectionately as his master came up and led him
out.

The young officer stood a few moments looking at the splendid horse,
and with the look came a flood of memories so painful that he bowed
his head in the saddle.

When he looked up Jack Bracken stood by his side: "I don't much like
this, Cap'n Tom. Not to-night, after all we've done to them. They've
got out spies now--I know them; a lot of negroes calling themselves
Union League, but secretly waylaying, burning and killing all who
differ with them in politics. They've made the Klu-Klux a necessity.
Now, I don't want you to turn me into a Klu-Klux to-night."

"Ah, they would not harm me, Jack, not me, after all I have suffered.
It has all been so hazy," he went on, as if trying to recall it all,
"so hazy until now. Now, how clear it all is! Here is the creek,
yonder the mountain, and over beyond that the village. And yonder is
Westmoreland. I remember it all--so distinctly. And after Franklin,
my God, it was so hazy, with something pressing me down as if I were
under a house which had fallen on me and pinned me to the ground. But
now, O God, I thank Thee that I am a man again!"

Jack went back into the cabin.

Captain Tom stood drinking it all in--the moonlight, on the roof of
Westmoreland, shining through the trees. Then he thought of what the
old Bishop had told him of Alice, the great pressure brought to bear
on her to marry Richard Travis, and of her devotion to the memory of
her first love.

"And for her love and her constancy, oh, God, I thank Thee most of
all," he said, looking upward at the stars.

He mounted his horse and rode slowly out into the night, a commanding
figure, for the horse and rider were one, and John Paul Jones tossed
his head as if to show his joy, tossed his head proudly and was in
for a gallop.

Captain Tom's pistols were buckled to his side, for he had had