Rhoda smiled at her. “Would my little sister like to see me hanging from a limb of that maple tree yonder?” “But you’d quit if you knew you were going to be hung for it.” “No, I wouldn’t.” Charlotte regarded her with wide eyes. In her secret heart she was beginning to feel not a little awe of this quiet elder sister upon whose countenance she sometimes surprised a look of exaltation. And therefore, to save her own sense of dignity, immensely increased by the prospect of her marriage, she had taken refuge in a patronizing manner. “Of course you would,” she said, with a superior air and a toss of her pretty head. “You say that just to brave it out. Has old Mr. White-Beard come to help you make plans to get arrested again?” “No. He wanted to see father.” “Oh, well! Who is he? John Brown, or Horace Greeley, or Governor Chase? One of them is as bad as another and they’re all tarred with the same brush.” “Which do you think?” asked Rhoda calmly. Charlotte leaned forward, all eagerness, her intuitions, as they so often did, flashing straight to the truth. “Not John Brown?” she ejaculated. Rhoda nodded, and Charlotte drew back with a little gasp and then seized the cat in her lap with extravagant exclamations of pride and affection. “My precious Bully Brooks! You knew who he was, didn’t you, and you told him what you thought of him! He’s a regular old ogre, Rhoda, and Bully Brooks felt it, didn’t you, you darling cat! And you shall go with Charlotte, when she’s married, to Corey’s Hall, so you shall, where there won’t be any nigger-stealers to make you angry.” Rhoda looked on with amusement. Not even yet, although Charlotte’s wedding day was fast approaching, could she think of her sister as other than a merry sprite, a spoiled child, of whom it would be too much to expect the sense of ordinary responsibilities. But now a feeling of uneasiness grew upon her, and when presently both rose to go into the house she said: “By the way, sister, please remember that it is not necessary for you to tell any one about Captain Brown’s being here, either now or after he has gone.” Charlotte tilted her chin saucily and laughed. “Don’t you know, Rhoda, that I never make promises--except for the fun of breaking them? Besides, I’m a southerner now.” Rhoda laid her hand gently upon the other’s shoulder. “Stop, sister. This is a serious matter. I can’t forget that once you played the traitor--pardon me, there is no other word for it, although I don’t think you meant it that way--but it was the traitor to father and to me. You know how much father loves you and how he’ll miss you after you’re married. Do you want to make him feel so much safer then that he can’t help being glad you’re gone?”