"I can't tell you how glad I am, Nan, to have you here; and I can guess your feelings. No doubt you were shocked to hear that Francis Bethune had been taken with the rest." The dear old lady had the knack of clinging to her ideas. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean, Grandmother Lumsden. I care no more for Mr. Bethune than I do for the others--perhaps not so much." "I don't know why it is," said Mrs. Lumsden, "but I have always looked forward to the day when you and Francis would be married." "I've heard you talk that way before, and I've often wondered why you did it." "Oh, well! perhaps it is one of my foolish dreams," said Mrs. Lumsden with a sigh. "Your father's plantation and that of Francis's grandfather are side by side, and I have thought it would be romantic for the heirs to join hands and make the two places one." "I can't see anything romantic in that, Grandmother Lumsden. It's like a sum in arithmetic." "Well, you must allow old people to indulge in their dreams, my dear. When you are as old as I am, and have seen as much of life, you will have different ideas about romance." "I hope, ma'am, that your next dream will be truer," said Nan, almost playfully. That night, Nan lay awake for a long time. At last she slipped out of bed, felt her way around it, and leaned over and kissed Gabriel's grandmother. In an instant she felt the motherly arms of the old gentlewoman around her. "Is that the way you do, when Gabriel comes and kisses you in the night?" whispered Nan wistfully. "Yes, yes, my dear--many times." "Oh, I am so glad!" the words exhaled from the girl's lips in a long-drawn, trembling sigh. Then she went back to her place in bed, and soon both the comforter and the comforted were sound asleep. As has been hinted, the moment Mr. Sanders discovered there was some slight chance of getting a message to Gabriel, he became one of the busiest men in Shady Dale, though his industry was not immediately apparent to his friends and neighbours. Among those whom he took occasion to see was Mr. Tidwell, whose son Jesse was among the prisoners. "Gus," said Mr. Sanders, without any ceremony, "you remember the row you come mighty nigh havin' wi' Tomlin Perdue, not so many years ago?" "Yes; I remember something of it," replied Mr. Tidwell. He was a man who ordinarily went with his head held low, as though engaged in deep thought. When spoken to he straightened up, and thereby seemed to add several inches to his height. "Well, it's got to be done over ag'in," remarked Mr. Sanders. "It happened in Malvern, didn't it?" "Yes, in the depot," replied Mr. Tidwell. "We were both on our way to Atlanta, and the Major misunderstood something I had said." "Egzackly! Well, it must be done over ag'in." Mr. Tidwell lowered his head and appeared to reflect. Then he straightened up again, and his face was very serious. "Mr. Sanders, has Tomlin Perdue been dropping his wing about that fuss? Has he been making remarks?"