"What is the matter!" she repeated, reproachfully. "Is it what is the matter you ask me, Mr. Berners; _you_? An't this Christmas-day the first Christmas-day since ever she was born, as she hasn't pa.s.sed here? And to see how you all went on at dinner, eating and drinking and laughing and talking as if _she_ wasn't lost and gone!"

"Now, Miss Tabby, you know well enough that Mrs. Berners is quite safe."

Miss Tabby started, spilt her tea, nearly dropped her cup, and--gazed at him in consternation.

"I know that you know she is safe," repeated Mr. Berners.

"I don't know nothink of the sort! How should I? And neither do you. How should you indeed, when even I don't?" said Miss Tabby, defiantly.

"Now, my good soul, you were present when Mrs. Berners was taken through the window of the flooded prison on to the boat," said Mr. Berners.

Miss Tabby stared at him aghast.

"How--how--how do you know that?" she gasped and faltered.

"My good creature, because the man who rescued her and her child and you, has written and told me how he did it, and all about it."

Miss Tabby's mouth and eyes opened wider than ever.

"And is she--is she safe?" she inquired.

"Yes, she is safe, on her way to a foreign country, where I shall follow her."

"Well, my good gracious me alive; how uncommon strange things do turn out! Well, I never did hear the like to that! Well, thanks be to goodness!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the poor woman fervently, clasping her hands.

"Now, Miss Tabby, this letter-writer tells me that he bound you by an oath never to divulge the secret of Sybil's rescue; but, mark you, that he gives me the authority to release you from that oath, so that you may give me all the particulars of that event," said Mr. Berners, and then he waited for her to speak. But she kept a resolute silence.

"Come, Miss Tabby, tell me all about it," continued Mr. Berners, seating himself to listen to the story.

"I an't got nothing to tell you any more than I have told you already,"

answered the woman doggedly.

"Why, you never told me anything!" exclaimed Lyon Berners, impatiently.

"Yes, I did too! I told you as how the last time I seen Miss Sybil's face, or the baby's face, was when they was both a layin' side by side on the bed just before the water rushed into the broken winder; and how I myself was picked up not far from where the prison was," said Miss Tabby, stubbornly.

"Which was all a prevarication, Tabby, though to the letter true. Come.

You can tell me more than that."

"No, sir; I told you that _then_, and I can't tell you no more _now_."

"But I know you can. See! this letter releases you from your oath of silence."

"No letter can't release me from no oath, sir, which I took upon the Bible," persisted Miss Tabby.

"Was there ever such fanaticism!" exclaimed Lyon Berners, impatiently.

"I don't know what sort of a schism fanaticism is, sir, but I know I an't left so far to my own devices as to be let to fall into _any_ schisms, so long as I prays faithfully into the litany every Sunday to be delivered from _all_ schisms."

"Heaven and earth, woman! That has nothing to do with it. Here is a man writing to release you from an oath you took to _him_ to keep secrecy on a certain event, of which it is expedient now for you to speak. He frees you from your oath, I tell you."

"Which he can't do, sir, begging of his parding and yours. If so be I _took_ an oath, which I don't acknowledge as I _did_ take," said Miss Tabby, cautiously, "_he_ can't free me from it no more 'n no one else.

And if so be you could put me on the rack like a heathen and torter me to death, I would die a marture to the faith rayther than break my oath," snivelled Miss Tabby.

"Who the demon wants to put you on the rack, you intolerable old idiot?"

exclaimed Lyon Berners, driven past his patience by her obstinacy. "Will you, or will you not, tell me all the particulars of Sybil's rescue?"

"No, sir, I will not, because I cannot without breaking of my oath,"

persisted Miss Tabby, with a constancy which compelled respect for her honesty, if it inspired contempt for her judgment.

"Well, I hope also that you will never mention the matter to any one else," said Mr. Berners, one little comfort mingling with his disappointment.

"That I never will, sir; but will suffer my tongue to be tored out by the roots first. If I have strength to withstand _you_, sir, don't you think as I shall have strength to withstand others?"

"I think it quite likely. Well, Miss Tabby, _I_ know you understand me, whether you will divulge anything to me or not, and so I shall soon give you certain instructions as freely as if there were an outspoken confidence between us," said Mr. Berners, rising to leave the room.

"That you may do, sir, with full faith in me," answered Miss Tabby.

And then Mr. Berners left her, and returned to his guests.

Mr. Berners and his guests pa.s.sed that Christmas evening, not in playing Christmas games, but in transacting important business.

The three gentlemen excused themselves to the two ladies, and leaving them to practice a new duet together on the piano, withdrew to the library, where doc.u.ments were drawn up giving lawyer Sheridan full powers to manage the estate in the absence of its proprietors.

When these were duly signed, sealed, and delivered, and all the details of the agency and of the voyage had been thoroughly discussed, they returned to the drawing-room.

It was now late, and the guests arose to take leave, but at Mr. Berners'

earnest invitation, they consented to remain, not only for the night, but for the two days that their host would be at home.

The next morning, after an early breakfast, Mr. Berners mounted his horse and rode over to the plantation where his child had been placed to nurse. He was determined, as a matter of prudence, not to divulge to the nurse the parentage of the child. He knew that to do so would start a furor of gossip and speculation that would be both unpleasant and inconvenient.

On reaching the plantation, he rode up to the gate of the substantial stone cottage belonging to the overseer, alighted, tied his horse to a post, and went up to the house door and knocked.

A rosy-cheeked girl of about twelve years of age opened the door.

"Is Mrs. Fugitt in?" he inquired.

"Yes, sir," replied the girl, stretching wide the door to admit the visitor.

Mr. Berners stepped into a very clean and comfortable room, where a woman sat with one young babe at her breast and another in the cradle beside her.

She took her foot from the rocker of the cradle and arose with the babe still in her arms to meet the stranger.

"Mrs. Fugitt?" inquired Mr. Berners.

"Yes, sir, that's my name. Will you sit down? Betsy Ann, hand the gentleman a chair."

The little girl brought forward a country made chip-bottom chair, and with a bow, the visitor seated himself.