"Anyhow, I kep' my word--I giv him light enough, I reckon!" chuckled Silas.

That was true: Gad had had light enough, and to spare.

The rain continued all the morning. Perhaps that was what detained the scout; for it was known that he had a great aversion to water.

In the afternoon came one with tidings from the mountain. It was not Gad. It was old Toby.

He was seized by some soldiers and taken before Captain Sprowl, at the school-house.

"Toby, you black devil, where have you been?" This was Lysander's chivalrous way of addressing an inferior whom he wished to terrify.

Now, if there was a person in the world whom Toby detested, it was this roving Lysander, who had disgraced the Villars family by marrying into it. However, he concealed his contempt with a politic hypocrisy worthy of a whiter skin.

"Please, sar," said the old negro, cap in hand, "I'se been lookin' for my ol' ma.s.sa and my young missis."

"Well, what luck, you lying scoundrel?"

"O, no luck 't all, I 'sure you, sar!"

"What! couldn't you find 'em? Don't you lie, you ----." (We may as well omit the captain's energetic epithets.)

"O, sar!"--Toby looked up earnestly with counterfeit grief in his wrinkled old face,--"dey ain't nowhars on de face ob de 'arth!"

"Not on the face of the earth!"

"If dey is, den de fire's done burnt 'em all up. I seen, down in a big holler, a place whar somebody's been burnt, sh.o.r.e! Dar's a man, and a hoss on top on him, and de hoss's har am all burnt off, and de man's trouse's-legs am all burnt off too, and one foot's got a fried boot onto it, and tudder han't got nuffin' on, but jes' de skin and bone all roasted to a crisp; and I 'specs dar's 'nuff sight more dead folks down in dar, on'y I didn't da's to look, it make me feel so skeerylike!"

All which, and much more, Toby related so circ.u.mstantially, that Captain Sprowl was strongly impressed with the truth of the story. Great, therefore, was the joy of the captain. Perhaps the patriots had been destroyed: he hoped so! Still more ardently he hoped that Virginia had perished with her father. For was he not the husband of Salina? and the snug little Villars property, did he not covet it?

"Can you show me that spot, Toby?"

"'Don'o', sar: I specs I could, sar."

"Don't you forget about it! Now, Toby, go home to your mistress,--my wife's your mistress, you know,--and wait till you are wanted."

"Yes, sar,"--bowing, and pulling his foretop.

Captain Sprowl did not overhear the irrepressible chuckle of satisfaction in which the old negro indulged as he retired, or he would have perceived that he had been trifled with. We are apt to be extremely credulous when listening to what we wish to believe; and Lysander's delight left no room in his heart for suspicion. All he desired now was that Gad should appear and confirm Toby's report; for surely Gad must know something about the dead horse and the dead man under him; and why did not the fellow return?

As for Toby, he hastened home as fast as his tired old legs could carry him, chuckling all the way over his lucky escape, and the cunning answers by which he had mystified the captain without telling a downright falsehood. "Ob course, dey ain't on de face ob de 'arth, long as dey's inside on't! Hi, hi, hi!"

He did not greatly relish reporting himself to Salina: nevertheless, he had been ordered to do so, not only by the captain, but by those whose authority he respected more.

Salina, though so bitter, was not without natural affection, and she had suffered much and waited anxiously ever since Toby, terrified into the avowal of his belief that Virginia was in the burning woods, had set out in search of her. She was not patient; she was wanting in religious trust. She had not slept. All night and all day she had tortured herself with terrible fancies. Instead of calming her spirit with prayer, she had kept it irritated with spiteful thoughts against what she deemed her evil destiny.

There are certain natures to which every misfortune brings a blessing; for, whatever it may take away, it is sure to leave that divine influence which comes from resignation and a deepened sense of reliance upon G.o.d. Such a nature was the old clergyman's. Every blow his heart had received had softened it; and a softened heart is a well of interior happiness; it is more precious to its possessor than all outward gifts of friends and fortune. Such a nature, too, was Virginia's. She too, through all things, kept warm in her bosom that holy instinct of faith, that blessed babe named Love, ever humbly born, whose life within is a light that transfigures the world. To such, despair cannot come; for when the worst arrives, when all they cherished is gone, heaven is still left to them; and they look up and smile. To them sorrow is but a preparation for a diviner joy. All things indeed work together for their good; since, whether fair fortune comes, or ill, they possess the spiritual alchemy that trans.m.u.tes it into blessing.

This love, this faith, Salina lacked. She fostered in their place that selfishness and discontent which sour the soul. Every blow upon her heart had hardened it. Every trial embittered and angered her. Hence the swollen and flaming eyes, the impatient and scowling looks, with which she met the returning Toby.

"Where is Virginia?"

"Dat I can't bery well say, Miss Salina," replied Toby, scratching his woolly head. He would never sacrifice his family pride so far as to call her Mrs. Sprowl.

"How dare you come back without her?" And she heaped upon him the bitterest reproaches. It was he who, through his cowardice, had been the cause of Virginia's night adventure. It was he who had ruined everything by concealing her departure until it was too late. Then he might have found her, if he had so resolved. But if he could not, why had he remained absent all day?

Under this sharp fire of accusations Toby stood with ludicrous indifference, grinning, and scratching his head. At length he scratched out of it a little roll of paper that had been confided to his wool for safe keeping, in case he should be seized and searched. It fell upon the floor. He hastily s.n.a.t.c.hed it up, and gave it, with obsequious alacrity, to Mrs. Sprowl. She took, unrolled it, and read. It was a pencilled note in the handwriting of Virginia.

"Dear Sister: Thanks to a kind Providence and to kind friends, we are safe. I was rescued last night from the most frightful dangers in the burning woods. I had come, without your knowledge, to get news of our dear father. I am now with him. He has excellent shelter, and devoted attendants; but the comforts of his home are wanting, and I have learned how much he is dependent upon us for his happiness. For this reason I shall remain with him as long as I can. To relieve your mind we send Toby back to you. V."

That evening Captain Sprowl entered the house of the absent Mr. Villars with the air of one who had just come into possession of that little piece of property. He nodded with satisfaction at the walls, glanced approvingly at the furniture, curved his lip rather contemptuously at the books (as much as to say, "I'll sell off all that sort of rubbish"), and expressed decided pleasure at sight of old Toby. "Worth eight hundred dollars, that n.i.g.g.e.r is!" He had either forgotten that Mr.

Villars had given Toby his freedom, or he believed that, under the new order of things, in a confederacy founded on slavery, such gifts would not be held valid.

"Well, Sallie, my girl,"--throwing himself into the old clergyman's easy chair,--"here we are at home! Bring me the bootjack, Toby."

"I don't know about your being at home!" said Salina, indignantly.

And it was evident that Toby did not know about bringing the bootjack.

He looked as if he would have preferred to jerk the chair from beneath the sprawling Lysander, and break it over him.

"I suppose Toby has told you the news? Awful news! a fearful dispensation of Providence! Pepperill came in this afternoon and confirmed it. We thought he had deserted, but it appears he had only got lost in the woods. He reports some dead bodies in a ravine, and his account tallies very well with Toby's. We'll wear mourning, of course, Sallie."

Lysander stroked his chin. Mrs. Lysander tapped the floor with her impatient foot, gnawed her lip, and scowled.

"Come, my dear!" said the captain, coaxingly; "we may as well understand each other. Times is changed. I tell ye, I'm going to be one of the big men under the new government. Now, Sal, see here. I'm your husband, and there's no getting away from it. And what's the use of getting away from it, even if we could? Let's settle down, and be respectable. We've had quarrels enough, and I've got tired of 'em. Toby, why don't you bring that bootjack?"

Lysander swung his chair around towards Salina. She turned hers away from him, still knitting her brows and gnawing that disdainful lip.

"Now what's the use, Sal? Since the way is opened for us to live together again, why can't you make up your mind to it, let bygones be bygones, and begin life over again? When I was a poor devil, dodging the officers, and never daring to see you except in the dark, I couldn't blame you for feeling cross with me; for it was a cursed miserable state of things. But you're a captain's wife now. You'll be a general's wife by and by. I shall be off fighting the battles of my country, and you'll be proud to hear of my exploits."

Salina was touched. Weary of the life she led, morbidly eager for change, she was a secessionist from the first, and had welcomed the war.

Moreover, strange as it may seem, she loved this worthless Lysander. She hated him for the misery he had caused her; she was exceedingly bitter against him; yet love lurked under all. She was secretly proud to see him a captain. It was hard to forgive him for all the wrongs she had suffered; but her heart was lonely, and it yearned for reconciliation.

Her scornful lip quivered, and there was a convulsive movement in her throat.

"Go away!" she exclaimed, violently, as he approached to caress her. "I am as unhappy as I can be! O, if I had never seen you! Why do you come to torture me now?"

This pa.s.sion pleased Lysander: it was a sign that her spirit was breaking. He caught her in his arms, called her pet names, laughed, and kissed her. And this woman, after all, loved to be called pet names, and kissed.

"Toby! you devil!" roared Lysander, "why don't you bring that bootjack?"

The old negro stood behind the door, with the bootjack in his hand, furious, ready to hurl it at the captain's head. He hesitated a moment, then turned, discreetly, and flung it out of the kitchen window.

"Ain't a bootjack nowars in de house, sar!"

"Then come here yourself!"