u
can't recollect when you met me last."

"Ah!" screamed Miss Tabby, as if she had seen a ghost. "It was on the
night of the flood! And you reskeed of us!"

"That's so."

"Well, then, my good gentleman, it ought to be a comfort and a
conserlation to you, a laying wounded there, to reflect as how you _did_
reskee us from drownding that night," said Miss Tabby, soothingly.

"I don't know as far as the rescuing of you is concerned, old girl,
whether the act will be found set down on the debit or credit side of my
account at the last day," he said, with a gleam of his old humor
sparkling up from beneath all his pain of mind and body.

"So this was the man," said the old lady to herself, while Miss Libby
and even Gem, looked at him with a new interest.

"Mr. Blondelle, can you tell me how you came to be wounded?" inquired
the old lady.

"No, not now. I must save all my strength for what I have to say to the
lawyer. Give me more brandy. And then let me alone," he said, speaking
faintly and with difficulty.

His request was complied with, and then the three old women, with Gem,
withdrew to the fire.

The two laboring men came in from their errand and joined them at the
fire.

"Did you catch Joe?" inquired the dame.

"Yes, mum, just as he was riding off. We had to run after him and shout;
but we stopped him, and gave him your message."

"All right; and now tell me--for I hadn't a chance to ask before--how
came this gentleman to be wounded?"

"Don't know, mum. We was on our way to a little Hallow Eve merry-making
at a neighbor's house in the Quarries, when we fell in long o' Joe, who
had been to the pine woods to gather cones; and we was all jogging
along, Joe foremost, when he stumbled and fell over something, which
proved to be this man, which, to tell the truth, we took to be dead at
the time," replied one of the men.

"And have you no idea who shot him?"

"No more than you have yourself, mum. You see--"

A groan from the wounded man interrupted the conversation.

"Hush! we disturb him. I ought to have known better than to talk,"
whispered Mrs. Winterose, and then she walked to the bedside and
inquired:

"What is the matter? Can I do anything for you?"

"No; let me alone, and be quiet," was the feeble reply.

The old woman went back to the fireplace, and sat down in silence. The
two laboring men, uninvited, seated themselves at a short distance. All
thoughts of going to a merry-making were given up