"You get the mail bag while I go for it, Pluto," she said after tossing the papers about in a vain search; "and Captain Monroe, will you look over this bit of figures for me? It is an expense list for my yacht, I may need it today and have a wretched head for business details of that sort. I am helpless in them." Then she was gone, and Monroe, with a pencil, noted the amount, corrected a trifling mistake, and suddenly became conscious that the grave, most attentive, black man, was regarding him in a manner inviting question. "Well, my man, what is it?" he asked, folding up the paper, and speaking with so kindly a smile that Pluto stumbled eagerly into the heart of questions long deferred. "Jes' a word, Mahs Captain. Is it true you been took prisoner? Is it true the Linkum men are whipped?" "Well, if they are they don't know it; they are still fighting, any way." "If--if they win," and Pluto looked around nervously as he asked the question, "will it free us, Mahs Captain? We niggahs can't fine out much down heah. Yo' see, sah, fust off they all tell how the Nawth free us sure if the Nawth won the battles. Then--then word done come how Mahsa Linkum nevah say so. Tell me true, Mahs Captain, will we be free?" His eagerness was so intense, Monroe hesitated to tell him the facts. He understood, now, why the dark face had been watching him so hungrily ever since his arrival. "The men who make the laws must decide those questions, my man," he said, at last. 'In time freedom certainly will be arranged for--but--" "But Mahsa Linkum ain't done said it yet--that it, Mahsa?" "Yes, that's it." "Thank yo', sah," and Monroe heard him take a deep breath, sad as tears, when he turned into the hall for the mail bag. A stranger was just coming up the steps, a squarely built, intelligent-eyed man, with a full dark beard; his horse, held by one of the boys under a shade tree, showed signs of hard riding, and the fact that he was held instead of stabled, showed that the call was to be brief. The servants were clearing away the lunch things. Mrs. McVeigh had entered the house. Delaven and Gertrude were walking beside Loring's chair, wheeled by Ben, along the shady places. Evilena was coming towards them from across the lawn, pouting because of an ineffectual attempt to catch up with Ken, whom she fancied she saw striding along the back drive to the quarters, but he had walked too fast, and the hedge had hidden him. She came back disappointed to be asked by Delaven what sort of uniform she was pursuing this time, to which he very properly received no reply except such as was vouchsafed by silent, scornful lips and indignant eyes.