He plunged down the levee and bounded through the low weeds to the edge
of the bank. It was sheer, and the water about four feet below. He did
not stand quite on the edge, but fell upon his knees a couple of yards
away, wringing his hands, moaning and weeping, and staring through his
watery eyes at a fine, long crevice just discernible under the matted
grass, and curving outward on either hand toward the river.

"My God!" he sobbed aloud; "my God!" and even while he called, his God
answered: the tough Bermuda grass stretched and snapped, the crevice
slowly became a gape, and softly, gradually, with no sound but the
closing of the water at last, a ton or more of earth settled into the
boiling eddy and disappeared.

At the same instant a pulse of the breeze brought from the garden
behind, the joyous, thoughtless laughter of the fair mistresses of
Belles Demoiselles.

The old Colonel sprang up and clambered over the levee. Then forcing
himself to a more composed movement he hastened into the house and
ordered his horse.

"Tell my children to make merry while I am gone," he left word. "I shall
be back to-night," and the horse's hoofs clattered down a by-road
leading to the city.

"Charlie," said the planter, riding up to a window, from which the old
man's nightcap was thrust out, "what you say, Charlie,--my house for
yours, eh, Charlie--what you say?"