Clarence was just turning from the gate with the marks of his wife's
hand still red on his white cheek. He saw Captain Pinckney's eyes upon
it, and the faint, half-malicious, half-hysteric smile upon his lips.
But without a start or gesture of surprise he locked the gate, and
turning to him, said with frigid significance,--

"I thank you for returning so promptly, and for recognizing the only
thing I now require at your hand."

But Captain Pinckney had recovered his supercilious ease with the
significant demand.

"You seem to have had something already from another's hand, sir, but I
am at your service," he said lightly.

"You will consider that I have accepted it from you," said Clarence,
drawing closer to him with a rigid face. "I suppose it will not be
necessary for me to return it--to make you understand me."

"Go on," said Pinckney, flushing slightly. "Make your terms; I am
ready."

"But I'm not," said the unexpected voice of the deputy at the grille of
the gateway. "Excuse my interfering, gentlemen, but this sort o' thing
ain't down in my schedule. I've let this gentleman," pointing to Captain
Pinckney, "off for a minit to say 'good-by' to a lady, who I reckon has
just ridden off in her buggy with her servant without saying by your
leave, but I didn't calkelate to let him inter another business, which,
like as not, may prevent me from delivering his body safe and sound into