some,
long-lashed eyes. "Lots of people die and go away." Then, after a pause,
in which he dropped his eyes, he added:

"My mother died two years ago."

"Did she?" answered Sheba, wondering why he looked so gloomy again all at
once. "I don't think I ever had any mother, but I have Uncle Tom."

He stared at her again, and there was silence for a few minutes. This he
broke by asking a question.

"What is your name?" he demanded.

"De Willoughby," she replied, "but I'm called Sheba."

"Why, that's my name," he said, surprisedly. "My name is De Willoughby.
I--Hallo, Neb----"

This last in a tone of proprietorship to a negro servant, who was
advancing towards them from a side-door and who hurried up with rather a
frightened manner.

"Ye'd best get ready ter start right away, Mars Ralph," he said. "He's
wake at las', an' der's de debbil to pay, a-cussin' an' roarin' an'
wantin' opium; an' he wants to know whar ye bin an' what ye mean, an' ses
de hosses mus' be at de do' in ten minits. Oh, de cunnel he's in de
wustest kin' o' humour, dar's no doin' nuffin right fer him."

"Tell him to go to h----" burst forth the lad, flying into a rage and
looking so wickedly passionate in a boyish way that Sheba was frightened
again. "Tell him I won't go until I'm ready; I've been dragged round till
I'm sick of it, and----"

In the midst of his tempest he checked himself, turned about and walked
suddenly into the house, the negro following him in evident trepidation.

His departure was so sudden that Sheba fancied he would return and say
something more to her. Angry as he looked, she wished very much that he
would, and so stood waiting wistfully.

But she was doomed to disappointment. In a few minutes the negro brought
to the front three horses, and almost immediately there appeared at the
door a tall, handsome man, who made his way to the finest horse and
mounted it with a dashing vault into the saddle.

He had a dark aquiline face like the boy's, and wore a great sweeping
mustache which hid his mouth. The boy followed, looking wonderfully like
him, as he sprang into his own saddle with the same dare-devil vault.

No one spoke a word, and he did not even look at Sheba, though she
watched him with admiring and longing eyes. As soon as they were fairly
in their seats the horses, which were fine creatures, needing neither
whip nor spur, sprang forward with a light, easy movement, and so
cantered down the street towards the hig