to confirm itself in his mind that his idol had clay feet. He gave up his confidence in Reynolds inch by inch, so to speak, clinging to it with the dogged stubbornness of his narrow nature. Spring fell upon the mountains some weeks earlier than usual. The old peach-trees were loaded with pale pink bloom and along the ragged ravines a tender green ran in waving veins. Day after day was cloudless and warm, followed by nights of such starry splendor as are seen nowhere save in the Southern mountain regions. One evening Milly was at the gate, as usual, leaning over its uneven slats, gazing down the stony road. Her father came out of the cabin, bare-headed, pipe in mouth, with his hands thrust into his trowsers pockets. "Think he air a comin' to-night, do ye, Milly?" he asked, standing near her and looking aimlessly about. "I shedn't be s'prised ef he'd drop along one of these yer days purty soon. Hit air a gittin' most time for the bird-shootin' ter stop, anyhow." "I dremp las' night 'at he wer' dead, an' 'at's a sign, ye know," she answered, without looking up. "I jes' know 'at he air a comin' purty soon." "Ef ye do see 'im a comin' down the road ther', Milly, an' ye've a min' ter jump over thet gate ther', w'y I shed 'vise ye ter git back yer a leetle an' take a runnin' start so's to be shore not to trip er nothin'." White chuckled dryly at the end of his speech, as if enjoying the scene it suggested; but receiving no reply from the girl his face resumed its look of stolid repose, albeit his eyes wandered restlessly without seeming to see any thing. The sun was down, an hour ago, and the stillness of night had fallen on the wide, rugged landscape. There was scarcely wind enough to bear away the light jets of tobacco smoke puffed sharply now and then from the man's mouth. "I dremp las' night, too, 'at the Colonel he wer' dead, Milly," he presently said; but he did not add that he dreamed that the Colonel had been killed, and by his hand. "I'm jest a lookin' for 'im now, an' a 'spectin' 'im ever' minute," she replied, her voice quavering sweetly, her limbs trembling. White swallowed, as if something hurt his throat, and pressed a finger vigorously into his pipe. The muscles of his face twitched convulsively. "Oh, I consider 'at we'd better go inter the house, Milly," he urged, "for hit air not 'tall s'posible 'at the Colonel he'll come to-night; but he air comin' shore ter-morrer, that's es sarting es gun's iron, Milly." "Lis'n, pap, I yer somethin' like he wer' a walkin' up the road this yer way: lis'n!" She shook her hand at him in token of silence, but did not turn her head, leaning far over the gate. "Hit ain't him, Milly, he'd be er singin' er song, ef hit wer' him. Don't ye 'member how he used ter warble them cur'us chunes when he wer' a comin'?" "Keep still, I tell ye, pap, for I know 'at I jest do yer 'im a comin' down ther'."