Hollow. August had
intended to show her a letter that he had from the mud-clerk,
describing the bringing of Humphreys back to Paducah and his execution
by a mob. But there was something so repelling in the gusto with which
the story was told, and the story was so awful in itself, that he could
not bear to interrupt the peaceful happiness of this hour by saying
anything about it.

August proposed to Julia that they should take a path through the meadow
of the river-farm--their own farm now--and see the foundation of the
little cottage Andrew had begun for them. And so in happiness they
walked on through the meadow-path to the place on which their home was
to stand. But, alas! there was not a stick of timber left. Every
particle of the material had been removed. It seemed that some great
disappointment threatened them at the moment of their happiness. They
hurried on in silent foreboding to the castle, but there the mystery was
explained.

"I told you not to tempt me too far," said Andrew. "See! I have
concluded to build an addition to the castle and let you civilize me. We
will live together and I will reform. This lonely life is not healthy,
and now that I have children, why should I not let them live here
with me?"

Julia looked happy. I have no authentic information in regard to the
exact words which she made use of to express her joy, but from what is
known of girls of her age in general, it is safe to infer that she
exclaimed, "Oh! I'm so glad!"

While Andrew stood there smiling, with Julia near him, August having
gone to the assistance of the carpenters in a matter demanding a little
more ingenuity than they possessed, Jonas came up and drew the
Philosopher aside. Julia could not hear what was said, but she saw
Andrew's brow contract.

"I'll shoot as sure as they come!" he said with passion. "I won't have
my niece or August insulted in my house by a parcel of vagabonds."

"O Uncle Andrew! is it a shiveree?" asked Julia.

"Yes."

"Well, don't shoot. It'll be so funny to have a shiveree."

"But it is an insult to you and to August and to me. This is meant
especially to be an expression of their feeling toward August as a
German, though really their envy of his good fortune has much to do with
it. It is a second edition of the riot of last spring, in which Gottlieb
came so near to being killed. Now, I mean to do my country service by
leaving one or two less of them alive if they come here to-night." For