age.

Upon the porch he found Jack Hicks seated between a stout gentleman and a
thin lady, who were to be the passengers to Hopeville; and as Dan appeared
the innkeeper started to his feet and swung open the door of the coach for
the thin lady to pass inside. "You'll find it a pleasant ride, mum," he
heartily assured her. "I've often taken it myself an', rain or shine,
thar's not a prettier road in all Virginny," then he moved humbly back as
Dan, carelessly drawing on his gloves, came down the steps. "I hope we
haven't hurried you, suh," he stammered.

"Not a bit--not a bit," returned Dan, affably, slipping on his overcoat,
which Big Abel had run up to hold for him.

"You gwine git right soakin' wet, Marse Dan," said Big Abel, anxiously.

"Oh, I'll not melt," responded Dan, and bowing to the thin lady he stepped
upon the wheel and mounted lightly to the box.

"There's no end to this eternal drizzle," he called down, as he tucked the
waterproof robe about him and took up the reins.

Then, with a merry crack of the whip, the stage rolled through the gate and
on its way.

As it turned into the road, a man on horseback came galloping from the
direction of the town, and when he neared the tavern he stood up in his
stirrups and shouted his piece of news.

"Thar was a raid on Harper's Ferry in the night," he yelled hoarsely. "The
arsenal has fallen, an' they're armin' the damned niggers."

XII

THE NIGHT OF FEAR

Late in the afternoon, as the Governor neared the tavern, he was met by a
messenger with the news; and at once turning his horse's head, he started
back to Uplands. A dim fear, which had been with him since boyhood, seemed
to take shape and meaning with the words; and in a lightning flash of
understanding he knew that he had lived before through the horror of this
moment. If his fathers had sinned, surely the shadow of their wrong had
passed them by to fall the heavier upon their sons; for even as his blood
rang in his ears, he saw a savage justice in the thing he feared--a
recompense to natural laws in which the innocent should weigh as naught
against the guilty.

A fine rain was falling; and as he went on, the end of a drizzling
afternoon dwindled rapidly into night. Across the meadows he saw the lamps
in scattered cottages twinkle brightly through the dusk which rolled like
fog down from the mountains. The road he followed sagged between two gray
hills into a narrow valley, and regaining its b