So there had been fraud and dishonor on the part of my family, and Uncle Peter had kept the secret through all his long life. I was too confused and agitated by the mistake he had made in my identity to fully comprehend all his words at the moment, but later they returned clearly to me. "Uncle Peter," I cried, "don’t you know me?" "Yes, yes, honey, ain’t I been tellin’ yo’ hit wus Dan’l he’ped ole marse break yo’ po’ heart, en fix dat money tel fo’ks b’lieve young marse stole hit. When dar wus no weddin’, kase yo’ done gone whar no man could fine yo’, Dan’l ’e ’pented o’ ’is sin; ’e fine no res’ fo’ ’is soul; ’e take de money what had been gin tu ’im, in tu ole marse, en lay hit down ’fo’ ’im, en sez: "’I can’t keep hit, Marse, hit des burn my hands, des burn my soul. I’m gittin’ ole, I gwine die ’fo’ menny year, sah, en I can’t go tu de jedgment long o’ dat money; en den Miss Euphemy she des ’pear tu me, en she say: "Dan’l, Dan’l, what yo’ been doin’? ’Pent, Dan’l, ’pent ’fo’ de Lawd’s wrath be turned ag’in’ yo’!" I sees ’er in eber’ shadder, hears ’er in eber’ win’ dat blows. She come in de night-time, en she come in de daytime. Oh, Marse, take hit back, fo’ de lub o’ Gawd, en let me be de hardes’ wuked man on de place, so ez I git ease o’ my trubble.’ "En Dan’l, ’e des brake down, en cry out loud, de tears a-rollin’ frum ’is eyes, en ole marse groan, en sez: "’She done gone, Dan’l—she done gone, en all de ’pentin’ in de worl’ ain’t gwine bring ’er back, en dar ain’t nuffin’ ’ud ease my trubble. De Lawd’s wrath be on me, Dan’l—de Lawd’s wrath be on me. Go, ef wuk gwine do enny good, but don’t come nigh me ’g’in. I ain’t blamin’ yo’, Dan’l, but ’pear lack de sight o’ yo’ make me feel wus.’ "En Dan’l, ’e tuk en go out, en neber look on ole marse’ face agin. Dan’l ’e ’pented o’ ’is sin. ’E live by ’isse’f; ’e see ha’nts, en ’e hear sperits talkin’, en ’e wuk all de days o’ ’is life. En ole marse ’e mus ’a’ seed ha’nts tu, fo’ ’e fine no res’ tel ’e die." He sunk to his knees before me, his white head bowed to the floor. "Trufe what I been tellin’ yo’, Miss Euphemy, all trufe. Now go ’way, honey, go ’way, en don’t ax ole Peter to tell enny more tel ’e come to die." I have no words in which to describe the effect of his confession on my excited mind, and how I pitied his fear. I tried to draw near to him, to convince him of my identity; but he rose, and retreated before me. "Honey, I knows yo’, I ’member how yo’ come down de stairs dat odder night in dat laylock gown." You can easily fancy that I was in no mood for the party. My friends were charmed with my costume. "And I have a special reason for desiring you to look your loveliest to-night," said Mrs. Landsdell, as we made our way down to the ferry. "We have a stranger with us." "A stranger!" I echoed, my thoughts still running on Uncle Peter and his strange hallucination.