“And that is mighty convenient,” said I, “for the Reverend Campbell and his fellow ophidians--this retreat to the word of one who dwells dead and dumb beneath six feet of earth.” “That is their coward strategy,” commented the General, furiously. “However, my thought is to ask Noah to visit these women and question them before the Reverend Campbell collects the wit to tell of his talk with me. I may have alarmed the man, for I was now and then not altogether calm.” I was driven to smile at this; so much concession of a want of calmness on the General's part would mean that he had fumed up and down like a tiger. The scuttling eagerness of the Reverend Campbell to be clear of the place was not without a cause. There beat some reason in his heels. “I asked him,” said the General, “why he did not tell this story in the beginning. He explained that he hesitated to approach me with it; he related it to Doctor Ely, who pretended to close terms with me. Then I demanded why this Ely had not told me by word of mouth? Why should he leave with that lie in his stomach, and then write it and send it by post? He said that when it came to the test, Doctor Ely was afraid of me. Fear, fear, that was the assassin excuse of him, and the reason for striking at a woman in the dark! Why, I would not believe the sun was shining on the words of such coward rogues!” It was settled that I should make company for Noah when he saw the Cravens. “But don't interfere for a word, Major,” exhorted the General, with a world of earnestness. “You do right well when the quarry is a bear or the enemy no more subtile than an Indian. But now the foe is a woman, you might better fall to the rear and leave leadership to Noah. You are monstrous ignorant of woman.” The Cravens lived no breathless distance up Georgetown way. Not far from their doorstep, Noah and I encountered the Reverend Campbell, who seemed shaken by the meeting. “Nothing could be better,” cried Noah, cheerfully, claiming the Reverend Campbell's arm. “You shall present the Major and myself to the ladies. And please permit me to do the talking; you may have your turn at the conversation when we leave.” The two women were bilious, lime-faced folk, and the daughter notably ugly. I was something stiff, I fear; but Noah, when introduced by the Reverend Campbell, showed as balmy as a day in May. He swept the pair with rapid glance and then turned to the daughter. “I shall pitch upon the one I deem the more manageable,” said Noah, on our journey to the house, “and when I commence to talk with her, you engage with the other.”