"No, Mrs. Whately," Scoville replied gravely. "We have not taken a step out of our way between here and the quarters, although we have lingered in conversation. We have ever been in plain sight of many of your people. I put the overseer under arrest because I had absolute proof of his malicious hostility. I shall inflict no injury on any one who does not threaten to be dangerous to my command, my duty requiring that I draw the line sharply there. Mrs. Whately, I have never met a young lady who inspired in me more honest respect. If we have trespassed on your patience, the blame is mine. Ladies, I thank you for your courtesy and wish you good-night," and he walked rapidly away. "Aunty," said Miss Lou, "you have begun to treat me in a way which would inspire my love and confidence." "Well, my dear, I am sorely perplexed. If we yield in minor points, you should in vital ones, and trust to our riper experience and knowledge." The distractions of the day had practically robbed Mr. Baron of all self-control, and he now exclaimed, "I yield nothing. As your guardian I shall maintain my rights and live up to my sense of responsibility. If by wild, reckless conduct you thwart my efforts in your behalf, my responsibility ceases. I can then feel that I have done my best." "And so, uncle, you would be quite content, no matter what became of me," added the girl bitterly. "Well, then, I tell you to your face that you cannot marry me, like a slave girl, to whom you please. I'll die first. I shall have my girlhood, and then, as woman, marry or not marry, as I choose. Aunty, I appeal to you, as a woman and a lady, to stop this wretched folly if you can." "Louise," said her aunt, kindly, "as long as I have a home it shall be a refuge to you. I hope the morrow will bring wiser counsels and better moods to us all." The mansion soon became quiet, and all slept in the weariness of reaction. No sound came from the darkened dwelling except an occasional groan from one of the wounded men on the piazza. Scoville, wrapped in a blanket, lay down by the fire with his men and was asleep almost instantly. The still shadows on the dewy grass slowly turned toward the east as the moon sank low. To the last, its beams glinted on the weapons of vigilant sentinels and vedettes, and the only warlike sounds occurred at the relief of guards. All rested who could rest except one--the overseer. Restless, vindictive, he watched and listened till morning. CHAPTER XVIII A WELL-AIMED SLIPPER