GLORY!" rang out the voice of the singer, who
seemed to be working himself up into enthusiasm.

"It is only some negro with his team," said Lyon Berners, to soothe the
spirits of Sybil, which always took the alarm at the approach of any
stranger.

"Yes; but what an hour for a negro, or for any one else but fugitives
like ourselves, to be out," said Sybil, doubtingly.

"Oh, he is making an early start for market perhaps. It _must_ be near
morning."

"Oh, there will be glory--
Glory! glory! glory!--
Oh, there will be glory
Around the throne of God!"

sang the unseen singer, making the mountain caves and glens ring with
his melody.

"Yes; bress Marster! there _will_ be Glories and Hallelujahs all through
heaven," he added; "for--

"Saints and angels there will meet,
Saints and angels there will meet,
Saints and angels there will meet--
Will meet, to part no more."

"And me and my young missis there will meet! And meet to part no more!
GLORY!" added the singer, with a sudden shout.

"Lyon, that's our Joe!" exclaimed Sybil, in joyful surprise.

The cart and horses now loomed dimly through the darkness, being almost
upon them.

"Joe!" called out Sybil, in a gleeful voice--"Joe!"

"Who dar?" answered the man, in affright.

"It is I! Sybil, Joe!"

"Oh, my good gracious Lord in heaven! it's her spirit as is calling me,
and she must be dead!" gasped the man, in a quavering voice.

By this time the two horses were beside the cart, upon the seat of
which the driver sat in an extremity of terror.

"Joe, don't be alarmed! It is Mrs. Berners herself who speaks to you,
and I am with her," said Mr. Berners, soothingly.

"Oh, Marse Lyon! Is it ralely and truly her herself and you yourself?"
inquired the man, very doubtingly.

"Really and truly Sybil and myself, Joe."

"Oh! Lord! how you did scare me!"

"Compose yourself, Joe, and tell me what you are doing here at this time
of the morning."

"Oh, Marse Lyon, sir, I came arter the housekeeping truck as you left
here, which I couldn't get a chance to fetch it before, 'cause I was
afraid o' 'citin' 'spicion."

"And have you the things in that cart?"

"Yes, Marse."

"Then hold on for a moment, and spread the mattress on the bottom of the
cart for your young mistress to lie down upon and rest, while you and I
have a little talk."

Joe promptly obeyed this order; and when the rude bed was ready, Lyon
lifted Sybil