But Elizabeth grew more anxious. She really expected that she would see Herbert, making his way homeward, but she heard no human sound, saw no human being until she came in sight of the little cabin. The road-makers were not at work, and the last bend of the road seemed like a door which would close behind her. No living soul would know where she was or where Herbert was, except their enemies. She had left no clue in the house, for she had carried with her in her pocket even the notice which she had found upon the floor. When she came in sight of the cabin she heard Mammy Sheldon crying. Did the poor soul cry all the time, or did her ear warn her of the approach of a step, and did she then begin to sob and moan? She recognized Elizabeth and made a frantic effort to lift herself on her elbow. “Don’t give it to him! Don’t give it to him!” Elizabeth went close to the bed. “What is it he wants?” “He wants my last testament, so as to tear it up or burn it an’ to have the money to spend for a gun. My money to be buried decent with a preacher an’ the singin’ of psalms. Don’t give it to him! Don’t give it to him!” Elizabeth could see on the beam above her head the edge of the white paper, still undisturbed. “Where is my brother?” Mammy Sheldon looked long at Elizabeth. Into her eyes came a look of crazy cunning. “They shot him,” said she. “Of course they shot him! It was right outside this door.” Elizabeth laughed hysterically. “What nonsense! They did not shoot him! Where is he? I helped you; now you help me.” The old woman laid her head down on her poor pillow. She began to cry once more about a decent burial. Whether she was trying to deceive, or whether her mind could not hold an idea more than a moment, it was hard to say. Elizabeth walked to the door and looked out. The tall trees, the glimpses of sky, the brown earth covered with a carpet of pine needles and dead leaves--this was surely no place of execution! Only the loneliness and the dreadful sound were ominous; there was no bird’s song, even in the early morning, loud enough to make itself heard above the wild sobbing. Elizabeth went back to the bed. “Where is my brother?” she demanded. “They must have come to the house yesterday and compelled him to come with them.” The old woman did not answer. “They want a paper. Is it the paper that I wrote for you?” The mention of the “testament” caught Mammy Sheldon’s attention. “Don’t give it to them! They’ll take my money and bury me like a dog. Don’t give it to them; oh, please, oh, please!” “I shan’t if you tell me what they have done with my brother.” “They don’t tell me what they do. I’m away off yere from ’em. But they’ll get their pay! Their children’ll treat ’em as they’ve treated me!” “Where are the people that feed you and take care of you?” “Buried,” answered Mammy Sheldon. “Dead and buried.” “They are not dead and buried! Some one brought you food within the last few days.”