"Where's your grandson?" he demanded, fiercely.

"'Fo' de Lawd, I dunno," gasped Aun' Jinkey.

"The truth, now, or you'll be sorry."

"I dunno, I dunno. Ef he gone, he ain' say neber a word ter me, not
eben good-by."

"No use of your lying. You knew the rascal's purpose. Why didn't you
tell Mr. Baron? Which way did he go?"

"I des declar, mars'r, I dunno."

"You DO know," cried Whately, driven almost to frenzy, "and I'll cut
the truth out of you."

His whip fell before he could arrest it, but it struck the arm and
shoulder of Miss Lou. She had drawn very near, and, swift as light,
had sprung forward and encircled the form of her mammy. There were
startled exclamations from those near, echoed by a groan from the
negroes, and then the girl spoke in stern, deep tones, "You thought
to strike ONE woman, and you have struck TWO."

Whately dropped his whip and stood with bowed head, paralyzed with
shame. There were wild cries and a swaying of the field-hands toward
the house. The mounted soldiers drew their revolvers and looked from
the thronging black faces to that of their commander, but he paid no
heed to them. Perkins did not wait, however, but drawing his weapon,