"Tilford, something like a hundred ruffians are coming up the two roads for the purpose of burning my mansion and hanging me to the nearest tree," Colonel Belthorpe began in a mild tone. "With the aid of my friends here, I intend to defend myself, my family, and my property." "Are them niggers with guns strapped on their backs your friends?" demanded the overseer, with a cynical smile on his ill-favored face. "They are brave men, who have this night defended their master from an attack of the reprobates who are marching upon my place; and I honor them for their bravery and fidelity, for not one of them has flinched!" returned the colonel vigorously. "I want to know now upon whom I can depend to defend me from the violence of these villains who are coming down upon me." "I reckon you can depend upon your niggers, but you can't depend on me!" replied the overseer, edging towards the door. "You have fotched all this on yourself by turning abolitionist!" "If assisting my neighbor and friend to defend himself and his family from the attacks of a pack of ruffians is being an abolitionist, then I am one with all my mind, heart, and soul!" replied the planter with a vehemence that brought down the applause of his associates, even including the ladies. "Them gentlemen you call ruffi'ns is my friends, Colonel Belthorpe, and I don't never go back on my friends, not unless they turn abolitionists, and I ain't go'n' to fight ag'in 'em," added Tilford, working nearer to the door. "I reckon my time's about done on this place." "Quite done!" said the colonel, taking a revolver from his pocket. "Go and join your friends! I will order every man with a gun to shoot you if you are seen about the place in five minutes!" The overseer did not like the looks of the revolver in the hands of his employer, and he fled from the house. The commander had sent all the Riverlawn force back to the two roads to observe the movements of the ruffians, or he would have given the faithless fellow an escort from the vicinity of the mansion. "The boys will all stand by you, mars'r," said Sam in the white jacket as the colonel followed the renegade to the front door. "Then call two of them"-- "They're all right here, mars'r," interposed the servant. The commander sent two of them to follow Tilford. He found, somewhat to his astonishment, that all the servants on the place, even to the old men, had armed themselves with clubs, pitchforks, shovels, or whatever they could lay their hands upon, ready to defend their master, who had always been kinder to them than the overseer. Besides, the armed negroes from Riverlawn had remained some little time on the premises, and had very fully informed them in regard to the events of the night, including the capture of the two daughters of their master, which had roused them to the highest pitch of indignation, for they looked upon Margie and Kate as a pair of angels, and wondered they had no wings.