ho exclaimed, in a hurried manner:

'I came here expecting this sale would be conducted according to
custom--that each hand would be put up separately. I protest against
this innovation, Mr. Auctioneer.'

The auctioneer made no reply; but the administrator, a small,
self-possessed man, mounted the bench, and said:

'Sir, _I_ regulate this sale. If you are not satisfied with its
conditions, you are not obliged to bid.'

Dawsey made a passionate reply. In the midst of it, Joe sprang upon the
stand, and, in a clear, determined voice, called out:

'Mr. Sheriff, do your duty.'

A large, powerful man, in blue coat and brass buttons, stepped to the
side of the carriage, and coolly opening the door, said:

'Catharine Dawsey, you are charged with aiding and abetting in the
murder of Phyllis Preston. I arrest you. Please come with me.'

'By ----, sir!' cried Dawsey; 'this lady is my wife!'

'It makes no difference whose wife she is, sir. She is my prisoner.'

'She must not be touched by you, or any other man!' yelled Dawsey,
drawing his pistol. Before he could fire, he rolled on the ground,
insensible. The sheriff had struck him a quick blow on the head with a
heavy cane.

As her husband fell, Mrs. Dawsey sprang upon the driver's seat, and,
seizing the reins from the astonished negro, applied the lash to the
horses. They reared and started. The panic-stricken crowd parted, like
waves in a storm, and the spirited animals bounded swiftly down the
avenue. They had nearly reached the cluster of liveoaks which borders
the small lake, when a man sprang at their heads. He missed them, fell,
and the carriage passed over him; but the horses shied from the road
into the trees, and in an instant the splendid vehicle was a mass of
fragments, and Mrs. Dawsey and the negro were sprawling on the ground.

The lady was taken up senseless, and badly hurt, but breathing. The
driver was dead!

The crowd hurried across the green to the scene of disaster. Joe and I
reached the man in the road at the same instant. It was Ally! We took
him up, bore him to the edge of the pond, and bathed his forehead with
water. In a few minutes he opened his eyes.

'Are you much hurt, Ally?' asked Joe, with almost breathless eagerness.

'I reckon not, massa Joe,' said Ally; 'my head, yere, am sore, an' dis
ankle p'raps am broke. Leff me see;' and he rose to his feet, and tried
his leg. 'No, massa Joe; it'm sound's a pine knot. I hain't done fur
_dis_