"One moment," interposed the Judge, blandly, with a view to check the unpleasant reminiscences. "Did I not hear you actually praise one of those Yankees?--in fact, a.s.sert that he was a very fine fellow?"

"Yes, yes; I had forgotten him. A Yankee captain; ordered the blue-coats to the right-about when he found there was only a sick man and a girl there; and more than that, so long as those scavengers were ash.o.r.e and parading around Beaufort he kept men stationed at my gates for safeguard duty. A fine fellow, for a Yankee. I can only account for it by the fact that he was a West Point graduate, and was thus thrown, to a certain extent, into the society and under the influences of our own men. Kenneth, Col. McVeigh, had known Monroe there--his name was Monroe--Captain John Monroe--at Beaufort his own men called him Captain Jack."

"Just as she was stepping on ship board: 'Your name I'd like to know?'

And with a smile she answered him, 'My name is Jack Monroe!'"

sang a fresh voice outside the window, and then the curtain was pushed aside and Evilena's brown head appeared.

"I really could not help that, Mr. Loring," she said, laughingly. "The temptation was too great. Did you never whistle 'Jack Monroe' when you were a boy?"

"No, I can't say I ever did," he replied, testily.

"It's intensely interesting," she continued, seating herself on the window sill and regarding him with smiling interest, made bold by the presence of her champion, the Judge. "Aunt Sajane taught it to me, an old, old sailor song. It's all about her sweetheart, Jack, not Aunt Sajane's sweetheart, but the girl's. Her wealthy relatives separate them by banishing him to the wars somewhere, and she dressed up in boy's clothes to follow him.

"'She went unto a tailor And dressed in men's array, And thence unto a sailor And paid her fare away.'"

recited Evilena, with uplifted finger punctuating the sentences.

"Wasn't she brave? Well, she found him, and they were married. There are seven verses of it."

"I--I should think that quite enough," he remarked, dropping his head forward and looking at her from under the overhanging brows. "Do you mean to sing them all to me?"

"Perhaps, some day," she promised, showing all her teeth and dropping the curtain.

"So now this couple's married, Despite their bitter foe, And she's back again in England With her darling, Jack Monroe."

The two visitors laughed outright as this information was wafted to them from the veranda, the old song growing more faint as the singer circled the house in search of Gertrude.

"A true daughter of the South, Dr. Delaven," said the Judge, with a tender cadence betraying how close to his heart was his pride in all Southern excellence--"child and woman in one, sir--a charming combination."

"Right you are, Judge, in that; may their numbers never be less."

Evilena had found Gertrude and at once confessed her daring.

"Don't know how I ever did have courage to pop my head in there. Aunt Sajane--but he talked of Jack Monroe just as I pa.s.sed the window, and I pretended I thought he meant the old song (I do wonder if he ever--ever sang or whistled?) Then I told him what it was all about, and promised to sing it to him some day, and I know by the sort of smile he had that he wanted to order me out of the room as he used to when I was little."

"Lena, Lena!" and Gertrude shook her head admonishingly at the girl, though she smiled at the recital.

"Oh, you are an angel, Gertrude; so you never have temptations to do things for pure mischief. But I wish you'd tell me who this Jack Monroe is."

"A Federal officer who was of service to us when Beaufort was taken."

"A _Yankee_!"--and her horror was absolute. "Well, I should not think you'd accept service from such a person."

"Honey!" said Aunt Sajane, in mild chiding.

"We had no choice," said Gertrude, quietly; "afterwards we learned he and Kenneth had been friends at West Point; so he was really a gentleman."

"And in the _Yankee Army_?" queried the irrepressible. "Good-bye, Jack Monroe, I shan't sing you again."

"You might be faithful to one verse for Gertrude's sake," ventured Aunt Sajane.

"Gertrude's sake?"

"Why, yes; he protected them from the intrusion of the Yankees."

"Oh--h! Aunt Sajane, I really thought you were going to ferret out a romance--a Romeo and Juliet affair--their families at war, and themselves--"

"Evilena!"

"When Gertrude says 'Evilena' in _that_ tone I know it is time to stop," said the girl, letting go the kitten she was patting, and putting her arm around Gertrude. "You dear, sensible Gertrude, don't mind one word I say; of course I did not mean it. Just as if we did not have enough Romeos in our own army to go around."

The significant glance accompanying her words made Gertrude look slightly conscious.

"You are a wildly romantic child," she said, smoothing the chestnut tinted waves of the girl's hair, "and pray, tell us how many of our military Romeos are singing 'Sweet Evilena,' and wearing your colors?"

Dr. Delaven pa.s.sed along the hall in time to hear this bantering query, and came opposite the door when this true daughter of the South was counting all the fingers of one pretty hand.

"Just make it a half dozen," he suggested, "for I'm wearing yet the sunflower you gave me," and he pointed to the large daisy in his b.u.t.tonhole.

"No, I'm always honest with Gertrude, and she must have the true number. We are talking of military men, and all others are barred out."

"So you informed me the first day of our acquaintance," he a.s.sented, arranging the daisy more to his liking.

"And I've never forgiven you for that first day," she retorted, nodding her head in a way suggestive of some dire punishment waiting for him in the future. "It was dreadful, the way he led me on to say things, Aunt Sajane, for how was I to guess he was the doctor? I was expecting a man like--well, like Dr. Allison, only more so; very learned, very severe, with eye gla.s.ses through which he would examine us as though we were new specimens discovered in the wilds of America.

I certainly did not expect to find a frivolous person who wore daisies, and--oh!" as she caught a glimpse of some one coming up the path from the landing--"there comes Nelse. Gertrude, _can't_ I have him in here?"

"May I ask if Nelse is one of the five distinguished by your colors?"

asked Delaven.

"Nelse is distinguished by his own colors, which is a fine mahogany, and he is the most interesting old reprobate in Carolina--a wizard, if you please--a sure enough voodoo doctor, and the black historian of the Salkahatchie. May I call him?"

"I really do not think uncle likes to have him around," said Gertrude, dubiously; "still--oh, yes, call him if you like. Don't let him tire you with his stories; and keep him out of uncle's way. He would be sure to tell him about those late runaways."

"I promise to stand guard in that case myself, Miss Loring; for I have a prejudice against allowing witch-doctors access to my patients."

Mrs. Nesbitt arose as if to follow Gertrude from the room, hesitated, and resumed her chair.

"When I was a girl we young folks were all half afraid of Nelse--not that he ever harmed any one," she confessed. "The colored folks said he was a wizard, but I never did give credit to that."

"Aunt Chloe, she says he is!"

"Oh, yes; and Aunt Chloe sees ghosts, and talks with goblins, to hear her tell the story; but that old humbug is just as much afraid of a mouse as--as I am."

"Nelse is a free n.i.g.g.e.r," explained Evilena, turning from the window after having motioned him to enter. "He was made free by his old master, Marmaduke Loring, and the old rascal--I mean Nelse, bought himself a wife, paid for her out of his jockey earnings, and when she proved a disappointment what do you think he did?"

Delaven could not get beyond a guess, as the subject of her discourse had just then appeared in the door.

He was a small, black man, quite old, but with a curious attempt at jauntiness, as he made his three bows with his one hand on his breast, the other holding his cane and a jockey cap of ancient fashion. It contrasted oddly with the swallow-tailed coat he wore, which had evidently been made for a much larger man; the sleeves came to his finger tips, and the tails touched his heels. The cloth of which it was made was very fine dark blue, with b.u.t.tons of bra.s.s. His waistcoat of maroon brocade came half way to his knees. Warm as the day was he wore a broad tie of plaid silk arranged in a bow, above which a white muslin collar rose to his ears. He was evidently an ancient beau of the plantations in court dress.