“No, ma’am, Miss Letty, he peepin’ froo de bushes when yuh puts de box in de groun’, an’ he say he think dey is gol’ an’ silver derein, an’ he want git me one o’ dem carneely rings, an’ he jes think he tek a little an’ nobody miss hit, an’ ef dey do, dey’ll think de Britishers done git hit; den when he open de box an’ fin’ nothin’ but dem papers in hit, he lay out fur to put hit back agin, but he ain’ had no chanst lak he mean ter do, an’ so he give hit ter me, an’ say I is ter give hit ter Mars William an’ do lak he say, an’ I so do; an’ he say ef I tells, de Britishers is sho’ to come after me, ’cause dey want dem papers.” “How did he know that?” “He heahs yuh-alls talkin’ ’bout hit dat night he waitin’ on de gin’ral in de gre’t hall. Yass, miss, he say all dat.” Lutie was very quiet now, and only her wet eyes showed recent weeping. “Very good,” said Lettice. “Of course Jubal ought to be punished. He has caused more mischief than he knows, and he is not half good enough for you, Lutie; although, poor ignorant boy, it was a temptation,” she added, half to herself. “Now dry your eyes, Lutie, and go get that pink muslin out of the closet. I am going to give that to you because you told the truth. I’m sorry I haven’t a ‘carneely’ ring, but there is a string of blue beads in that box; you may have those.” Lutie fell on her knees and kissed her mistress’s bandaged feet in her ecstasy at this deliverance from despair and this elevation to heights of bliss, and in a minute she was bearing off her treasures, every white tooth gleaming, as she viewed these darling possessions. “I am bound to make no explanations,” said Lettice to herself. “What a complication it is, and how badly I have treated poor Robert. No wonder he was so hurt and angry and indignant. Alas, if I tell any one that he is innocent, I will have to prove it, and that I have promised not to do. I shall have to wait events, I suppose. Brother William is away, and there is no one else who will press inquiries. Yet, am I not bound to clear Robert to Mr. Baldwin, and I can do nothing else than write to Washington to Robert himself. Dear, dear, what a scrape I am in!” At this moment Lutie reappeared with the message: “Miss Letty, Miss Betty say is yuh able to come down to supper? Mr. Bald’in, he comin’, an’ she say she wisht yuo’d mek yose’f ready, is yuh able.”