went down the steps, and until his footsteps died away on the path. Then
the gentleman rose and pulled a cord hastily. The negro came in.

"Put the lad to bed, Breed," said he.

"Whah, suh?"

"Oh, anywhere," said the master. He turned to me.

"I'll be better able to talk to you in the morning, David," said he.

I followed the old servant up the great stairs, gulping down a sob that
would rise, and clutching my mother's gown tight under my arm. Had my
father left me alone in our cabin for a fortnight, I should not have
minded. But here, in this strange house, amid such strange surroundings,
I was heartbroken. The old negro was very kind. He led me into a little
bedroom, and placing the candle on a polished dresser, he regarded me
with sympathy.

"So you're Miss Lizbeth's boy," said he. "An' she dade. An' Marse Alec
rough an' hard es though he been bo'n in de woods. Honey, ol' Breed'll
tek care ob you. I'll git you one o' dem night rails Marse Nick has, and
some ob his'n close in de mawnin'."

These things I remember, and likewise sobbing myself to sleep in the
four-poster. Often since I have wished that I had questioned Breed of
many things on which I had no curiosity then, for he was my chief
companion in the weeks that followed. He awoke me bright and early the
next day.