"I suppose Ferris is at the Barony?" he said, drawing his horse
down to a walk.

"I believe he is," said Betty with a curt little air.

"May I ride with you?" he gave her a swift glance. She nodded
indifferently and would have urged her horse into a gallop again,
but he made a gesture of protest. "Don't--or I shall think you
are still running away from me," he said with a short laugh.

"Were you at the trial?" she asked. "I am glad they didn't get
Hannibal away from Yancy."

"Oh, Yancy will have his hands full with that later--so will
Bladen," he added significantly. He studied her out of those
deeply sunken eyes of his in which no shadow of youth lingered,
for men such as he reached their prime early, and it was a
swiftly passing splendor. "Ferris tells me you are going to West
Tennessee?" he said at length.

"Yes."

"I know your half-brother, Tom Ware--I know him very well."
There was another brief silence.

"So you know Tom?" she presently observed, and frowned slightly.
Tom was her guardian, and her memories of him were not
satisfactory. A burly, unshaven man with a queer streak of
meanness through his character. She had not seen him since she
had been sent north to Philadelphia, and their intercourse had