’Polyte’s surveillance was something Carolina had not bargained for. At first his devotion was engendered by gratitude for the trust she placed in him, and fear, for he knew that she actually held over him the power of life and death. Even if she were ignorant of the true significance of that meeting in the woods, at what moment might not some stray anecdote bring home to her its meaning? ’Polyte was no fool, and there were times when he writhed in a hell of fear. Then gradually Carolina’s personality began to gain ascendency over him, as it had over Tempy and Calla and Rose Maud, and even flighty ones like Lily and her kind, and he worshipped her as a superior being. Carolina embodied to the negroes the old times of prosperity and the patriarchal protection of the whites. They liked the idea of the restoration of the old Guildford mansion. Aged negroes, who had known the place in its prime, heard of its rebuilding and journeyed back many weary miles to see "old mahstah’s" granddaughter, and to test her hospitality. Several of these Carolina annexed and housed in the clean and shining new quarters, and she was amply repaid by their real knowledge of past events and their idolatry of herself as the last of the Lees. ’Polyte studied her every whim, and carried it out with the zeal of a fetich. The mare Araby became her property almost by magic. ’Polyte would never say one word concerning it, but one day Barnwell Mazyck sent word to Carolina that she could have the mare on her own terms, only he felt obliged to warn her that Araby had turned vicious. ’Polyte spoke only one sentence. "Ef you tek her, missy, she won’t trick _you_!" "Oh, ’Polyte!" cried Carolina, "what have you been doing?" "Not a t’ing, Miss Callina. Honest! Only I raised dat mah, en I knows huh!" Carolina still hesitated until Moultrie brought word that Araby had nipped at Barney’s hand, and in a rage he had kicked her. After that, the mare would not allow him to approach, but even at the sight of him she would rear, bite, and kick, so that, being quite useless to her owner, he proposed to sell her,--if not to Carolina, then to some one else. Hearing that decided the girl. She bought Araby, and sent ’Polyte to fetch her. The beautiful creature proved as gentle as a lamb, and, even on the day when ’Polyte led her up for Carolina to see, she nosed her new mistress lovingly. "Why, she seems just as usual," said Carolina, but she did not see ’Polyte’s heaving shoulders and convulsed face. Thus, for the most part, the negroes were Carolina’s friends. They not only stood in awe of her body-guard, ’Polyte, who knew them root and branch, good and bad alike, but their childish vanity was tickled by the beauty of the small white marble chapel Carolina built on the estate, which had an organ and stained-glass windows and a gallery for negroes.