ry little after his
avowal of the "sign" and its relation to his lease of life. He had a
nervous chill by the time they reached the house and Pluto almost
repented of his fiction. Finally he compromised with his conscience by
promising himself to own the truth if the frightened old fellow became
worse.

But nothing more alarming resulted than his decision to return at once
to his own cabin, and the further statement that he desired some one
be despatched at once for "that gal Cynthy," which was done according
to his orders.

The women folk--old Chloe at their head--decided Uncle Nelse must be
in some dangerous condition when he sent the command for Cynthia, whom
he had divorced fifty years before. The rumors reached Dr. Delaven,
who made a visit to Nelse in the cabin where he was installed
temporarily, waiting for the boatmen who were delegated to row him
home, he himself declining to assist in navigation or any other thing
requiring physical exertion.

He was convinced his days were numbered, his earthly labors over, and
he showed abject terror when Margeret entered with a glass of bitters
Mrs. Nesbitt had prepared with the idea that the old man had caught a
chill in his endeavor to follow the dogs on the oppossum hunt.

"I told you all how it would be when I heard of him going," she
asserted, with all a prophet's satisfaction in a prophecy verified.
"Pluto had to just about tote him home--following the dogs at his age,
the idea!"

But for all her disgust at his frivolity she sent the bitters, and
Delaven could not comprehend his shrinking from the cup-bearer.

"Come--come, now! You're not at all sick, my man; what in the wide
world are you shamming for? Is it for the dram? Sure, you could have
that without all this commotion."

"I done had a vision, Mahs Doctor," he said, with impressive
solemnity. "My time gwine come, I tell you." He said no more until
Margeret left the room, when he pointed after her with nervous
intensity. "It's that there woman I seen--the ghost o' that woman what
ain't dead--the ghost o' her when she was young an' han'some--that's
what I seen in the McVeigh carriage this night, plain as I see yo'
face this minute. But no such _live_ woman wa' in that carriage, sah.
Pluto, he couldn't see but two, an' _I_ saw three plain as I could see
one. Sure as yo' bawn it's a death sign, Mahs Doctor; my time done
come."

"Tut, tut!--such palaver. That would be the queerest way, entirely, to
read t