So long as the Colonel suspected irony he was angry, but as Charlie
seemed, after all, to be certainly in earnest, he began to feel
conscience-stricken. He was by no means a tender man, but his
lately-discovered misfortune had unhinged him, and this strange,
undeserved, disinterested family fealty on the part of Charlie touched
his heart. And should he still try to lead him into the pitfall he had
dug? He hesitated;--no, he would show him the place by broad daylight,
and if he chose to overlook the "caving bank," it would be his own
fault;--a trade's a trade.

"Come," said the planter, "come at my house to-night; to-morrow we look
at the place before breakfast, and finish the trade."

"For what?" said Charlie.

"Oh, because I got to come in town in the morning."

"I don't want," said Charlie. "How I'm goin' to come dere?"

"I git you a horse at the liberty stable."

"Well--anyhow--I don't care--I'll go." And they went.

When they had ridden a long time, and were on the road darkened by
hedges of Cherokee rose, the Colonel called behind him to the "low-down"
scion:

"Keep the road, old man."