Night came at last, and so did all the negroes employed on the plantation, who asked for their money. The general, knowing that it would be of no use to argue with them, declined to pay them off until the year for which they were hired was ended; but he promised that, if they saw the apparition again and would show it to him, he would settle with them at once and let them all go. Don breathed easier after that. He was afraid that his propensity for mischief was about to occasion his father great inconvenience, and he was glad that the trouble could be averted without a confession on his part. He told himself that his father would never see the apparition. He would take precious good care to avoid that. Don did not put on old Jordan’s clothes that night, because Godfrey did not come to the potato-patch as he had agreed. Clarence waited and watched for him until nine o’clock, and as soon as he could slip away from his relatives the next morning, he went down to Godfrey’s cabin to see what had kept him at home. Don followed him at a distance, and saw that his cousin held a long and earnest conversation with Godfrey, and that he seemed to be very much elated about something when he came back. By putting these two things together, Don arrived at the conclusion that Godfrey would be on hand that night, and so he was. Don happened to be on the watch when he went into the summer-house; and knowing that Godfrey would not come so far unless he intended to go the rest of the way, he ran back to the house to get ready for him. It was certainly provoking, when he was in so great a hurry, to find the kitchen occupied by two servants, who would surely see him if he took the key to Jordan’s room down from its nail, and who, besides, would be certain to speak about it. They must be got out of the room somehow, and there was no time to waste. “Jane,” said Don, suddenly, “did you hear mother calling you?” “No, sar,” replied the girl, jumping up. “I didn’t either,” was Don’s mental comment, as she hurried away. “Ben,” he added, turning to the old negro who sat in the chimney-corner, “what did old preacher Hudson want of you just a few minutes ago?” “Sar?” exclaimed Ben. “I didn’t see no preacher Hudson to-day, sar!” “Why, wasn’t he out at the gate just now calling for you?” “Mebbe so, sar,” replied Ben, rising and picking up his hat, “but I didn’t see him. Mebbe he’s dar now.” “I don’t think he is,” said Don, to himself, “but it will not hurt you to go out and see; and in the meantime----” Don put the key into his pocket as soon as Ben was out of sight, and lost no time in making his way to the barn. At the door he met the hostler. “Time to lock up now, Mr. Don,” said the latter, “but I’se a little jubus ’bout dat barn, sar. Yes, sar, I’se a little jubus!” “Well, then, go back to your quarters and I will lock the doors,” replied Don.