The encounter was evidently a surprise to both parties, and reining in their steeds, they regarded each other for a moment in grim silence. Then the leader of the band, a profane, drunken wretch, who had been a surgeon in the Confederate army, scowling fiercely upon our friends and laying his hand on a pistol in his belt, growled out, "A couple of scalawags! mean dirty rascals, what mischief have you been at now, eh?" Disdaining a reply to his insolence, the gentlemen drew their revolvers, cocked them ready for instant use, and whirling their horses half way round and backing them out of the road so that they faced it, while leaving room for the others to pass, politely requested them to do so. "Not so fast!" returned the leader, pouring out a torrent of oaths and curses; "we've a little account to settle with you two, and no time's like the present." "Yes, shoot 'em down!" cried a voice from the crowd. "Hang 'em!" yelled another, "the ---- ---- rascals!" "Yes," roared a third, "pull 'em from their horses and string 'em up to the limb o' that big oak yonder." Our friends faced them with dauntless air. "You will do neither," said Mr. Dinsmore, in a firm, quiet tone; "we are well armed and shall defend ourselves to the last extremity." Travilla threw his riding whip into the road a foot or two in front of his horse's head, saying, as he looked steadily into the leader's eyes, "The first one who passes that to come nearer to us is that instant a dead man." The two were well known in the community as men of undoubted courage and determination; also as excellent marksmen. A whisper ran along the lines of their opponents. "He's a dead shot; and so's Dinsmore; and they're not afraid o' the devil himself. Better let 'em go for this time." The leader gave the word, "Forward!" and with hisses, groans and a variety of hideous noises, they swept along the road and passed out of sight, leaving our friends masters of the field. "Cruelty and cowardice go hand in hand," observed Mr. Travilla, as they resumed their homeward way. "Yes, those brave fellows prefer waging war upon sleeping unarmed men, and helpless women and children, to risking life and limb in fair and open fight with such as you and I," returned his companion. "They are Ku Klux, you think?" "I am morally certain of it, though I could not bring proof to convict even that rascally Dr. Savage." They agreed not to mention the occurrence in presence of their wives: also that it would be best for Travilla to take his family home early, Mr. Dinsmore and Horace Jr. accompanying them as an escort. This they could readily do without arousing the fears of the ladies, as both were constantly coming and going between the two places. The sun was nearing the horizon when they reached the Oaks. Rose and Elsie were in the veranda awaiting their coming in some anxiety.