to my eyes. With a
sudden impulse, I ran down the steps and to the old seat under the oaks
by the river. Nothing had changed,--even the shadows across the water
seemed to be the same. But as I ran my hand mechanically along the arm of
the seat on the side where Dorothy always sat my fingers felt a roughness
which had not been there before, and as I looked to see what this might
be, I saw that some one had cut in the wood a T and a D, intertwined, and
circled by a tiny heart. Who could have done it? I had no need to ask
myself the question. My heart told me that no one but Dorothy could have
done it, and that she knew that I should come and sit here and live over
again the long evenings when she had sat beside me. It was a message from
my love, and with trembling lips I bent and kissed the letters which she
had carved. As I sat erect again, I heard footsteps behind me, and turned
to see Long approaching.

"You sent for me, Mr. Stewart?" he asked. "I saw you sitting here, and
decided you were waiting for me."

"Yes," I said, and I shook hands with him, for he was an honest man and a
good workman.

"I am glad to see you back again, sir, though looking so ill," he added.
"I trust the air of Riverview will soon bring you around all right," and
from his eyes I knew he meant it.

I thanked him, and bade him sit beside me. Then, in a few words, I
told him what I had learned of the negro meetings, and saw his face
grow grave.

"'Tis what I have always feared," he said, when I had finished. "There
are too many of them in the colony, and they feel their strength. If they
had a leader and a chance to combine, they might do a great deal of harm.
However, we shall soon knock this in the head."

"How?" I asked.

"Make an example of Polete," he answered decidedly. "That's the best way,
sir. Put him out of the way, let the other niggers see us do it, and
they'll quiet down fast enough."

"Undoubtedly that is the easiest way," I said, smiling, "but,
unfortunately, I had to promise the person who gave me the information
that Polete should not be harmed."

Long stared at me for a moment in amazement.

"It would be unfortunate if any of the other planters should hear of that
promise, Mr. Stewart," he said at last. "They would probably take
Polete's case into their own hands."

I laughed at his evident concern.

"No doubt," I said, "but they are not going to hear of it. I intend
telling no one but yourself, for we two are qui