ight a little
after dark. Marcy was just rising from a late supper, when the sound of
hoofs was heard on the carriage-way, and Bose challenged with all his
might. When Marcy opened the door he saw the horseman bending down from
his saddle, and waving his hand at the dog as if he were trying to quiet
him. He was so far away that Marcy could not see who he was, although
the light from the hall lamp streamed brightly out into the darkness.
When he heard the boy's step upon the porch the man straightened up, but
did not offer to come any nearer.

"What is wanted?" demanded Marcy.

"Does this yere road lead to Nashville?" asked a hoarse, gruff voice
that Marcy had never heard before.

"The one outside the gate leads to Nashville, but the one you are on
leads up to this door," answered the boy, who, for some reason or other,
began to feel uneasy.

"You aint overly civil to strangers in these parts, seems like," said
the man. "I've been out lookin' for niggers to work on the forts, an'
got lost, if it will do you any good to know it." And, with the words,
he turned his horse about, and galloped out of the yard.

It was a very simple incident--one that was likely to happen at any
time--but all that evening Marcy could not get it out of his mind. He
could not read, either, and did not want to talk, so he went to bed at
an early hour; but before he did so, he made the rounds of the house
with a lighted lantern in his hand. Bose was in his usual place on the
rug in front of the door, and so fast asleep that he did not move when
his master stepped over him, and the doors and windows in the lower part
of the house, as well as those in the cellar, were closed and fastened,
and, having satisfied himself on these points, Marcy bade his mother
good-night, and went to his room. But he did not close his door. He took
pains to leave it wide open, and called himself foolish for doing it.

"I am getting to be afraid of the dark," was what he thought, as he
turned down his lamp and tumbled into bed. "There isn't a darky on the
plantation who hates to have night come as bad as I do, and I don't know
that there is anything surprising in it. If there is danger hanging over
this house, I wish it would drop, and have done with it."

Marcy went to sleep with this rash wish half formed in his mind.

CHAPTER VI.

THE WISH GRATIFIED.

Marcy Gray slept like a boy who had eaten heartily of mince pie for
supper, that is, uneasily. But s