“It’s all right,” he cried; “drop your iron. I’ve got a message from King Kelly.” I observed the man had a blackened face and uncouth costume; he did not look like an engineer, though a negro fireman was on the smoking engine. The saturnine Raoul tore open the envelope, read the letter twice, and handed it to me with the nearest approach to a chuckle I had heard him give. I also read it, while the negro fireman opened half his head and laughed aloud. “What will you take, sir?” I heard Raoul say; then, as the ladies, overcome by the curiosity this unexpected-silence caused, came out upon the platform, I heard him introducing the man of the charcoal face to each in turn. The letter was as follows: “---- RAOUL, ESQ. “DEAR SIR: A gentleman have arrived here on Number Two, inkwiring for you, and I take him for to be a member of Mrs. Raoul’s family, so I got him and his ingineer here in Camp and reckon I kin hold him about till termorrer sundown. “Yours trooly, “LUCIUS R. KELLY.” 8. BEATI POSSIDENTES. I now saw that under the methods of Southern courtship the man who had got the lady had a great advantage. The Memphis express pulled up at four in the morning in front of a burning tar-barrel on the track, which Raoul had placed there as a hint to it to stop at Bagdad. How our story always got out so quickly, I don’t know; but two members of Congress from Mississippi turned out of the two end sections and were accommodated with shakedowns in the smoking compartment of the crowded Pullman, with Raoul and myself. I did not sleep very well, and at seven in the morning got out at Chattanooga. What was my surprise at seeing Mrs. Judge Pennoyer also emerge, fully dressed, from the sleeping-car. “You young people don’t want me,” said she, benevolently. “I should only be in the way. An’ I’m getting out here to take the day train on to Knoxville. If I got out thar, they might stop ye before the train pulled out again; now ye’ll all get by unbeknownst.” What could I oppose to such strategy? Moreover, the young ladies were still in their berths. I could not leave Miss Jeanie to come back alone. I bowed; the train started; I got in it. The sunlight broadened, but it was high noon and we had passed Knoxville before the two girls appeared, fresher than the June morning, and rosier, I am sure, than Raoul or I. With some trepidation I told them of Mrs. Pennoyer’s evasion. “Dear Aunt Emily,” said May, “she has always been like a mother to me.” But Jeanie, I fancied, blushed; and that day talked to Raoul, while May was left to me. The impending catastrophe made May very gentle and silent, but we now heard Jeanie and Mr. Raoul in speech of much light laughter at the other end of the car. “I suppose,” said I, “they are laughing at the way Mr. Kirk Bruce’s pursuit has stopped in moonshine.”