“No, —— that’s the plan,” said the proud Southern, “and we intend to carry it out; and the only way for you to save yourself is to come over and vote with us; because we know that you know mighty well, when you vote against us you are voting against your interest.” “I didn’t know it was so much against your interest as to kill a man,” replied Harris. “I had no idea that it was any such thing as that.” “Well, you see what the consequence is, and we’re going to carry this State, and we intend to do it if we have to kill every nigger, and this rascally Governor too; he is the head of all the thieves in the State, and the white people don’t intend to stand it no longer; they intend to break it up.” Harris and his protector then moved on, and soon reached their place of destination. “Mann,” said Mr. W——, “I’ve got a little talk for you. I, to-night, by your being recommended to me, saved your life; and now you can do me a favor, and I will tell you what it is.” “All right, Captain. There a’n’t nothing that I could do that I wouldn’t do for yo’, for yo’ saved my life.” “Yes; what I want to say to you is, that you don’t know anything about the affair at all; that they had you around there, but you knowed nobody; that these are unknown parties; and if any one comes to get you to go into court to testify, or say anything about calling anybody’s name, _you don’t know_. This time we will let you off; but next time we get at this thing, we’ll _git_ you. Now I will tell you as you do me a favor, and don’t you call anybody’s name; don’t you own to them that you do know; and tell them, the rest of them, not to say anything about it; that you seen the boys, but you didn’t know who it was. If any one asks you, tell ’em you don’t know; it was unknown parties. Good-night;” and his magnanimous benefactor rode away, and left Mann Harris upon his door-step. CHAPTER XII. INCIDENTS AND PARTICULARS. Sabbath holy For the lowly Paint with flowers thy glittering sod; For affliction’s sons and daughters, Bid thy mountains, woods and waters Pray to God—our Father God. Still God liveth, Still he giveth What no man can take away; And, oh Sabbath! bringing gladness Unto hearts of weary sadness, Still thou art an holy day.” _Whittier._ UNDER cover of the morning fog Captain Doc descended from the verandah of the Postmaster’s residence. As he slid down a pillar of the open piazza of the lower story, a black face stared from one of the lower windows, with an expression of mingled terror and surprise. Reassured by a smile upon Doc’s face, he raised the sash cautiously, and whispered, “Does you want to come in?” “No, no, Dick!” was the reply, “this town isn’t a safe enough place to hold me when the day comes. The hounds will be back again, when they have fed and slept a little. Have you been there all night?”