in Adonia, the man whom she
knew as Jeff, was the deputy whom Flagg had sent. He had come in
haste--that was plain to her; he was mopping the flanks of the sweating
bays.

The deference with which he touched his cap informed her fully as to the
amount of knowledge possessed by the Flagg household. He unbuttoned, one
after the other, his overcoat, his inner coat, his waistcoat, and from
the deepest recess in his garments produced a sealed letter; his
precautions in regard to it attested the value he put on a communication
from the master to the master's granddaughter.

The envelope was blank.

The men of the shift that had been relieved stood about her in a circle.
The arrival of the bays was an event which matched the other sensational
happenings of the crowded day, and she was conscious that, without
meaning to be disrespectful, the men were hankering to be taken wholly
into her confidence--were expecting that much favor from her.

Granddaughter of Echford Flagg she might be--but more than all she was
one of the crew, that season, a companion who had inspired them, toiled
with them, and triumphed with them. If any more good news had come they,
as friends, were entitled to know it, their expressions told her. They
were distinctly conveying to her their notion that she should stand
there and read the letter aloud.

The hand which clutched the missive was trembling, and she was filled
with dread in spite of the consoling thought that she had achieved so
much. She was afraid to open the letter and she escaped out of the
circle of inquiring faces and hid herself in her tent; even the crude
flourish of importance displayed by the manner of Jeff in delivering the
communication to her had its effect in making her fears more profound.
The whims of old age--Flagg had dwelt on the subject! She remembered
that when she was in the big house with Latisan, her grandfather had
beat on the page of the Bible and had anathematized the ties of family
in his arraignment of faults. He had been kind, after his fashion, when
she was incognito, but now that he knew----

She ripped the envelope from the letter and opened the sheet; it was a
broad sheet and had been folded many times to make it fit the envelope.

It was more like rude print than handwriting. At first she thought that
her grandfather had been able to master a makeshift chirography with his
left hand. But boldly at the top of the sheet, as a preface of apology,
was this st