Suddenly he ceased muttering, and with wide-open eyes, stared into the darkness. "Look there, Brother Cameron," he cried, hoarse with emotion. "Amy; don't you see her? She disgraced the family you know; ran away with that low-down printer. But see! Look! Who is that with her? Oh God, it's Kate--Kate--Yes, Kate, I'll marry you. It can't be wrong, you know, for you love me. Only we must not marry now for father would--Look Cameron--" His voice rose in a scream of fear. "She's got smallpox. Drive her out, you nigger; take her away to that cabin in the woods where you kept me. Sh'-- Don't tell anyone, Cameron, but she wants me to go with her. She's come to get me. And there's--there's--My God, look--Yes--Yes-- Kate, I'm coming--" And he sank back on the bed again. The negro was on his knees trying to mumble a prayer, while the minister sat with bowed head. The lantern cast flickering shadows in the corners of the room, and the firelight danced and fell. A water bug crawled over the floor; a spider dropped from the rude rafters; and from without came the sound of the wind among the bare branches of the trees, and the old horse feeding on the dead grass and mouldy leaves about the cabin. Suddenly the sick man spoke once more. "No sir, I will never disgrace you. I am as proud of our family as yourself. I am--home--day--" The sentence trailed off into a few unintelligible words in which only "Mother" and "Amy" could be distinguished. And then, with a last look about the cabin, from eyes in which anguish and awful fear was pictured, he gasped and was gone. The next day, the old negro dug a grave not far from the house, and at evening, when the sun was casting the last long shadows through the trees, the colored man and the minister lowered the body of the rich man's son, with the help of the rope lines from the old harness, to its last resting place. A few moments later, the darkey came around to the front of the house. "Ready to go, sah?" "Go where?" asked Cameron. "Why, go home ob course. I reckoned you'd be mighty glad ter get away from dis yer place." "I'm not going anywhere," the minister answered. "You may unhitch the horse again." The old man did as he was told; then scratching his woolly head, said to himself, "I golly. Neber thought ob dat. I'll sure hab ter take care ob him next."