long double galleries we build; and it had
a row of windows in the roof, called dormers, and was surrounded by a
stockade of enormous timbers, in the four corners of which were set
little forts pierced for rifle fire.

Noble trees stood within the fortified lines; outside, green meadows
ringed the place; and the grass was thick and soft, and vivid as a green
jewel in color--such grass as we never see save for a spot here and
there in swampy places where the sun falls in early spring.

The house was yet a hundred rods away to the eastward. I rode on slowly,
noticing the neglected fences on either hand, and thought that my cousin
Varick might have found an hour to mend them, for his pride's sake.

Isene, my mare, had already scented the distant stables, and was
pricking forward her beautiful ears as I unslung my broad hat of plaited
palmetto and placed it on my head, the better to salute my hosts when I
should ride to their threshold in the Spanish fashion we followed
at home.

So, cantering on, I crossed a log bridge which spanned a ravine, below
which I saw a grist-mill; and so came to the stockade. The gate was open
and unguarded, and I guided my mare through without a challenge from the
small corner forts, and rode straight to the porch, where an ancient
negro serving-man stood, dressed in a tawdry livery too large for him.
As I drew bridle he gave me a dull, almost sullen glance, and it was not
until I spoke sharply to him that he shambled forward and descended the
two steps to hold my stirrup.

"Is Sir Lupus at home?" I asked, looking curiously at this mute,
dull-eyed black, so different from our grinning lads at home.

"Yaas, suh, he done come home, suh."

"Then announce Mr. George Ormond," I said.

He stared, but did not offer to move.

"Did you hear me?" I asked, astonished.

"Yaas, suh, I done hear yoh, suh."

I looked him over in amazement, then walked past him towards the door.

"Is you gwine look foh Mars' Lupus?" he asked, barring my way with one
wrinkled, blue-black hand on the brass door-knob. "Kaze ef you is, you
don't had better, suh."

I could only stare.

"Kaze Mars' Lupus done say he gwine kill de fustest man what 'sturb him,
suh," continued the black man, in a listless monotone. "An' I spec' he
gwine do it."

"Is Sir Lupus abed at this hour?" I asked.

"Yaas, suh."

There was no emotion in the old man's voice. Something made me think
that he had given the same message to visitor