The Doctor rose and made his statement. When he first stood up the compression of his lips showed the feeling under which he labored; but the next second he had mastered himself, and when he spoke it was with as much respect as if he were addressing the Chief Justice. The land was his, and he claimed that he would have had the right to drive the man off had he wished to do so; but, as a matter of fact, he had not done so—he had not done so on account of Sherwood’s wife, who was the daughter of the old mammy in his family, and a valued servant. He had only deposed him from being the manager. The Provost was manifestly a little disconcerted by this announcement. He glanced about him. The Doctor had evidently made an impression. “Can you prove this?” he asked, sharply. The General wriggled in his chair, his hands clutching the sides, and the Doctor for a second looked a trifle more grim. He drew in a long breath. “Well, my word has usually been taken as proof of a fact I stated,” he said, slowly. “But if you desire further proof, there are several of my old servants present who will corroborate what I state. Perhaps you might be willing to accept their testimony?” He looked the Provost in the eyes, and then glanced around half humorously. “Tom!” he called to the old man who had held his horse, and who was now standing in the front row. “Will you state what occurred, to this—ah—officer?” “Yas, suh—I’ll groberate ev’y wud you say—‘cus’ I wuz dyah,” asserted Tom, with manifest pride. “Dat’s so,” called out one or two others, not to be outdone by Tom, and the tide set in for the Doctor. The Provost, in this state of the case, declared that the charge was not sustained, and he felt it his duty to dismiss the complaint. He, however, would take this occasion to state his views on the duties of the former owners to their slaves; and he delivered a long and somewhat rambling discourse on the subject, manifestly designed for the sable part of his audience. When he concluded, and just as he started to rise, the General sprang to his feet. The Doctor looked at him with some curiosity, perhaps not unmingled with anxiety, for the General’s eyes were blazing. With an effort, however, the General controlled himself. “Permit me to say, Mr. Provost, that your views, like those of a good many people of your class, are more valuable to yourself than to others.” He bowed low. “Dat’s so, too!” called out Tom, who was still in a corroborative mood, on which there was a guffaw from the negroes. And with this shot, the General, after looking the Provost steadily in the eyes, turned on his heel and stalked out of the court-house, leaving Leech trying ineffectually to look as if he, as well as others, appreciated the humor of Tom’s speech.