we shall
hold the whole race responsible for the misdeeds of each individual."

"In ancient Rome," said the general, "when a master was killed by a
slave, all his slaves were put to the sword."

"We couldn't afford that before the war," said McBane, "but the niggers
don't belong to anybody now, and there's nothing to prevent our doing as
we please with them. A dead nigger is no loss to any white man. I say,
burn the nigger."

"I do not believe," said Carteret, who had gone to the window and was
looking out,--"I do not believe that we need trouble ourselves
personally about his punishment. I should judge, from the commotion in
the street, that the public will take the matter into its own hands. I,
for one, would prefer that any violence, however justifiable, should
take place without my active intervention."

"It won't take place without mine, if I know it," exclaimed McBane,
starting for the door.

"Hold on a minute, captain," exclaimed Carteret. "There's more at stake
in this matter than the life of a black scoundrel. Wellington is in the
hands of negroes and scalawags. What better time to rescue it?"

"It's a trifle premature," replied the general. "I should have preferred
to have this take place, if it was to happen, say three months hence, on
the eve of the election,--but discussion always provokes thirst with me;
I wonder if I could get Jerry to bring us some drinks?"

Carteret summoned the porter. Jerry's usual manner had taken on an
element of self-importance, resulting in what one might describe as a
sort of condescending obsequiousness. Though still a porter, he was also
a hero, and wore his aureole.

"Jerry," said the general kindly, "the white people are very much
pleased with the assistance you have given them in apprehending this
scoundrel Campbell. You have rendered a great public service, Jerry, and
we wish you to know that it is appreciated."

"Thank y', gin'l, thank y', suh! I alluz tries ter do my duty, suh, an'
stan' by dem dat stan's by me. Dat low-down nigger oughter be lynch',
suh, don't you think, er e'se bu'nt? Dere ain' nothin' too bad ter
happen ter 'im."

"No doubt he will be punished as he deserves, Jerry," returned the
general, "and we will see that you are suitably rewarded. Go across the
street and get me three Calhoun cocktails. I seem to have nothing less
than a two-dollar bill, but you may keep the change, Jerry,--all the
change."

Jerry was very happy. He had distinguishe