Driving at a brisk trot through the grounds, Sorrel was soon out upon the highway; and with spirits exhilarated by thoughts of going home, he kept up the trot until, turning a sudden corner, his master saw the carriage from Aikenside approaching at a rapid rate. The driver, Paul, saw him too, but scorning to give half the road to such as Sorrel and the square-boxed wagon, he kept steadily on, while Grandpa Markham, determining to speak to Guy, reined his horse a little nearer, raising his hand in token that the negro should stop. As a natural consequence, the wheels of the two vehicles became interlocked, and as the powerful grays were more than a match for Sorrel, the front wheel of Grandpa Markham’s wagon was wrenched off, and the old man precipitated to the ground, which, fortunately for him, was in that locality covered with sand banks, so that he was only stunned for an instant, and failed to hear the insolent negro’s remark: “Served you right, old cove, might have turned out for a gentleman;” neither did he see the sudden flashing of Guy Remington’s eye, as, leaping from his carriage, he seized the astonished African by the collar, and demanded “What he meant by serving an old man so shameful a trick, and then insulting him?” All apology and regret, the cringing driver tried to make some excuse, but Guy stopped him short, telling him to see how much the wagon was damaged, while he ran to the old man, who had recovered from the first shock, and was trying to extricate himself from the folds of the camlet cloak. Near by was a blacksmith’s shop, and thither Guy ordered his driver to take the broken-down wagon with a view to getting it repaired. “Tell him _I_ want it done at once,” he said, authoritatively, as if he knew his name carried weight with it; then turning to grandpa, he asked again if he were hurt. “No, not specially—jolted my old bones some. You are very kind, sir,” grandpa replied, brushing the dust from his pantaloons and then involuntarily grasping Guy’s arm for support, as his weak knees began to tremble from the effects of excitement and fright. “That darkey shall rue this job,” Guy said, savagely, as he gazed pityingly upon the shaky old creature beside him. “I’ll discharge him to-morrow.” “No, young man. Don’t be rash. He’ll never do’t again; and sprigs like him think they’ve a right to make fun of old codgers like me,” was grandpa’s meek expostulation. “Do, pray, Guy, how long must we wait here?” Agnes asked, impatiently, leaning out of the carriage and partially drawing her veil over her face as she glanced at Grandpa Markham, but a look from Guy silenced her; and turning again to grandpa, he asked: “What did you say? You have been to Aikenside to see me?”