"When I seed you, sah," Uncle Matt explained, "it all come back to me in a minnit, how you an' de Judge pass shots 'bout dat flag; how you axed him to a dinner-party, an' dar was a Confed'ate officer dar--an' a Confed'ate flag hung up over de table, an' de Judge when he seed it he 'fused p'int blank to set down to de table, an' it ended in you goin' out in de gyardin' an' changin' shots." "Yes, damn it all," cried Dr. Atkinson, but melted the next moment. "The poor old fellow is dead," he said, "an' he died in disgrace and without friends." "Yes," Uncle Matt protested, eagerly; "without a single friend, an' all 'lone 'ceptin' of Marse Rupert--all 'lone. An' it was 'cos he was so strong for de Union--an' now de Guv'ment won't let his fambly have his money 'cos dey's tryin' to prove him destructively disloyal--when he changed shots with his bes' friend 'cos he wouldn't set under de Confed'ate flag." A grim smile wakened in Dr. Atkinson's face. "What!" he said; "do you want me to explain to the Government that the old scamp would have blown my brains out if he could?" "Doctah Atkinson, sah," said Uncle Matt, with shrewd gravity, "things is diff'rent dese days, an' de Guv'ment don't call dem gen'elmen scamps as was called dat in de Souf." He looked up under the broad brim of his companion's hat with impassioned appealing. "I jes' 'member one thing, sah," he said; "dat you was a Southern gen'elman, and when a enemy's dead a Southern gen'elman don't cherish no harm agin him, an' you straight from Delisleville, an' you deed an' heerd it all, an' de Guv'ment ken see plain enough you's no carpet-bag jobber, an' ef a gen'elman like you tes'ify, an' say you was enemies--an' you did pass shots count er dat flag, how's dey gwine talk any more about dis destructive disloyal business? How dey gwine ter do it?" "And I am to be the means of enriching his family--the family of an obstinate old fool, who abused me like a pickpocket and spoiled a dress-coat for me when dress-coats were scarce." "He's dead, Doctah Williams Atkinson, sah, he's dead," said Matt. "It was mighty lonesome the way he died, too, in dat big house, dat was stripped by de soldiers, an' ev'ybody dead belonging to him--Miss De Willoughby, an' de young ladies, an' Marse Romaine, an' Marse De Courcy--no one lef but dat boy. It was mighty lonesome, sah." "Yes, that's so," said Dr. Atkinson, reflectively. After a few moments' silence, he added, "Whom do you want me to tell this to? It may be very little use, but it may serve as evidence." Uncle Matt stopped upon the pavement. "Would you let me 'scort you to Senator Milner, sah?" he said, in absolute terror at his own daring. "Would you 'low me to 'tend you to Senator Grove? I knows what a favior I'se axin'. I knows it doun to de groun'. I scarcely dars't to ax it, but if I loses you, sah, Marse Thomas De Willoughby an' Marse Rupert may lose de claim. Ef I lose you, sah, seems mos' like I gwine to lose my mind."