There was as much real distress in the child's voice as if she were
telling him of a promised flogging.

"Lloyd! Aw, Lloy-eed!" the call came again.

A neat-looking coloured woman glanced in at the gate as she was passing
by, and then stood still in amazement. She had often found her little
charge playing along the roadside or hiding behind trees, but she had
never before known her to pass through any one's gate.

As the name came floating down to him through the clear air, a change
came over the Colonel's stern face. He stooped over the child. His hand
trembled as he put it under her soft chin and raised her eyes to his.

"Lloyd, Lloyd!" he repeated, in a puzzled way. "Can it be possible?
There certainly is a wonderful resemblance. You have my little Tom's
hair, and only my baby Elizabeth ever had such hazel eyes."

He caught her up in his one arm, and strode on to the gate, where the
coloured woman stood.

"Why, Becky, is that you?" he cried, recognizing an old, trusted servant
who had lived at Locust in his wife's lifetime.

Her only answer was a sullen nod.

"Whose child is this?" he asked, eagerly, without seeming to notice her
defiant looks. "Tell me if you can."

"How can I tell you, suh," she demanded, indignantly, "when you have