This insinuation the “Gusty niggers,” chose to resent as an insult, and a regular negro fight ensued, in which Bill, being the weaker party, came off rather badly beaten, his face being scratched in several places, while his pants received a huge rent, which in no wise tended to improve his personal appearance. Matters being at last amicably adjusted, the victorious party returned home, while Bill, who had frequently been in Augusta with his master, wended his way to a hatter’s shop, where he soon made himself the owner of a second-hand beaver, which at his request was ornamented by a weed of crape as a badge of mourning for his favorite steeds. Then seeing that the carriage was safely stowed away, he started on foot for home, stopping at the negro quarters of almost every plantation to relate his wonderful adventures. As he was perfectly trusty and faithful, he was always allowed to carry a pass by his good natured master and thus he found no difficulty in his journey, which he took quite leisurely, never reaching Sunny Bank until the close of the second day after the one on which he had left it. In the meantime Mr. Delafield, with closely knit brows and compressed lip, his usual look when he was in deep thought, sat musing of the time when Rosa Lee would be his wife, while at his side the Yankee peddler, with his basket of essence carefully stowed under the seat, was casting curious glances at his companion, whose history he was desirous of knowing. But there was something in Mr. Delafield’s appearance which forbade familiarity, so for once the loquacious Yankee was silent. They were now about half-way between Augusta and Charleston and going at great speed, when suddenly at a short curve there was a violent commotion—the passengers were pitched forward and backward, while the engine plunged down a steep embankment, throwing the train from the track and dragging after it the baggage car, which in some way became detached from the rest. The new “Yankee engineer” was a daring, reckless fellow, who at the North had been discharged for carelessness, and had come to try his fortune at the South. Fortunately no one was seriously hurt except Mr. Delafield, whose injuries were simply _mental_, as he knew this accident would probably detain them for many hours. In a perfect storm of excitement he stalked up and down the track, asking the conductor every few minutes how long it would probably be before they could go on, and at last growing so dark in his face that the Yankee, after looking over his essence basket and finding but few of his bottles broken, ventured to say, “Now, _Squire_, don’t git mad at a feller for askin’ a sassy question, but I raley du want to know if there ain’t a little atom of black blood in you?”