“That thar red paint I see you lookin’ at, got on the frame one day the picture fell down before the war. A nigger was paintin’ the hairth right below it; it wa’n’t nailed then—and a gust of wind come up sudden and banged a door and the picture dropped right down in the paint. Mr. Gray, who used to own this place, was a settin’ right by the winder where his secretary used to stand, and I had jest come back from the South the day befo’ and was talkin’ to Mr. Gray about it in the hall here that minute. ‘Well,’ says I to him, ‘if I was you, I’d be sort o’ skeered to see that happen’;—because thar’s a story about it, that whenever it comes down the old fellow in the grave-yard gits up, and something’s goin to happen to the man as lives here. ‘No,’ he says, ‘Hiram (he always called me Hiram), I’m not superstitious; but if anything should happen, I have confidence in you to know you’d still be faithful—a faithful friend to my wife and boys,’ he says, in them very words. And I says to him, ‘Mr. Gray, I promise you I will, faithful. And that’s what I’ve done, Major, I’ve kept my word and yet, see how they treat me! So after I got the place I nailed the picture in the wall—or rather just before that,” he said in his former natural voice, “and it ain’t been down since, an’ it ain’t comin’ down neither.” “But does that keep him from coming on his horse as they say? Has he ever been seen since you nailed the frame to the wall?” Ruth asked. “Well, ma’am, I can only tell you that I ain’t never seen him,” said their host, with a faint, little smile. “Some says he’s still ridin’, and every time they hears a horse nicker at night around here they say that’s him; but I can’t say as I believes it.” “Of course you cannot,” said the Major, a little abruptly, “for you know it isn’t he; you have too much sense. A good head and a good conscience never see apparitions.” The Major was still thinking of the past. “How like he is to a picture I saw at Dr. Cary’s, that they said was of a young Mr. Gray who still lives about here,” said Ruth, recurring to the picture. She turned and was surprised to see what a change had come over her host’s face. He suddenly changed the subject. “Well, I’m glad you’ve come down, Colonel. Only I’m sorry I didn’t know just when you were coming. I’d have sent my carriage for you. I’ve been lookin’ out for you, and I’ve got the prettiest place in the country for you,” he said. He nodded over in the direction of the garden. “I want to take you to see it. It will just suit you. The house ain’t big, but the land’s as rich as low grounds. “And you’re the very sort of a man we want here, Major. Your name will be worth a heap to us. Between ourselves, you can conjure with a Gover’ment title like a trick-doctor. Now, this fall, if you just go in with us—How would you like to go to the Legislature?” he asked, his voice lowered the least bit, and interrupting himself in a way he had.