Arriving, in due time, at Mrs. Lyte's gate, the Major dismounted, and was about to enter, when his eyes fell on the little tin plate, in Bergan's office window, which has before been mentioned. If it had been the head of Medusa, with all its supernatural powers intact, it could scarcely have wrought a more complete change in the expression of his face. First, he glared at it in incredulous wonder; then, he nearly choked with inarticulate rage; finally, words came to his relief. To the consternation of Mrs. Lyte, and the intense gratification of the crowd of boys and negroes which quickly gathered at a safe distance, he proceeded to pour forth a volley of the bitterest curses that he could frame upon the author of what he chose to consider an insult to himself, and a disgrace to his lineage. "That I should live to see the name of Bergan on a snip of a tin sign, like that!" he growled, shaking his fist at the offending plate, and trembling with rage;--"what right had the scoundrel to put it there, I should like to know? 'Attorney at Law,' indeed!--he shall have law enough, since he likes it so well! I'll sue him for trespass, libel, forgery,--I'll horsewhip him, and then have him indicted for assault and battery,--I'll--." But here his indignation choked him, for a moment. Recovering his voice, his anger took a new direction. "'Bergan Arling,' indeed!" he muttered,--"I suppose he was ashamed of the 'Harry,' though he could put it at the end of his note,--smooth-faced hypocrite that he is! Where is he?" he went on, lifting his voice. "Why don't he come out, and face me, like a man? Must I go in and drag him out, by the nape of the neck,--the mean, sneaking, insulting puppy!" "Mr. Arling is out, I regret to say," said Dr. Remy, appearing in the doorway, and confronting the furious Major with his cool, cynical smile. "He went out for a walk some fifteen or twenty minutes ago. If he were here, no doubt it would give him great pleasure to meet you." Major Bergan scowled in a way to show how willingly he would transfer his wrath to this timely object, if he could only find a reasonable excuse. But, discovering not the shadow of one in the doctor's polite, careless manner, he contented himself with growling,-- "Out, is he? I wish he were out of the county--and a good riddance! When will he be in?" "Not under an hour or two," answered the doctor, wisely postponing the era of Bergan's return to the utmost limit. "Umph! that's the way he spends his time, is it? loafing about the country when he should be in his office! Well, I've got something to do, besides wait for him. Just tell him, will you? that I owe him a good, sound horse-whipping, and I'll pay it to him the first time I meet him." "I will take charge of your kind message with pleasure," returned the doctor, blandly. "Any further commands?"