of a hot drive through the Florida sand and woods, but he could not say
no, Jake's honest face was so anxious and pleading.

"Yes, I'll come, but how?" he asked.

"Oh, I'll be hyar wid de mule an' de shay. Noon, sharp," Jake replied.
"Thankee, Mas'r Mason, thankee. We couldn't bury Miss Dory without a
word of pra'r. I kin say de Lawd's, but I want somethin' about de
resurrection an' de life what I hearn in Virginny. An' now I mus' go
'long home. Ole Miss'll be wantin' me an' de chile."

"What child?" Mr. Mason asked, in some surprise.

Jake's face was a study as he hesitated a minute, winking to keep his
tears back before he said, "Sartin', thar's a chile. Why shouldn't thar
be, but fo' God it's all right. Miss Dory said so, an' Elder Covil
knows, only he's done gone Norf or somewhar. It's all right, an' you'll
know 'tis the minit you see Miss Dory's face--innocent as a baby's. Good
day to you."

He doffed his hat with a kind of grace one would hardly have expected,
and walked rapidly away, leaving the Rev. Mr. Mason to think over what
he had heard, and wonder that he didn't ask the name of the family he
was to visit. "Miss Dory, ole Miss, and Jake," were all he had to guide
him, but the last name was sufficient.

"Oh, yes," the landlord said, when questioned. "It's old Mrs. Harris and
her grand-daughter out in the palmetto clearing; they're Crackers. The
old woman is half demented, the whole family was queer, and the girl the
queerest of all--won't talk and keeps her mouth shut as to her marriage,