The little supper standing before him did not tempt his appetite. With another retrospective glance of contempt at the physician’s advice, he turned to the table and poured out and swallowed glass after glass of wine. Then, without heeding the mail-bag that hung upon the chair, or ringing for a servant to clear off the things, or even closing up the house, as was his invariable custom, he arose and retired to his chamber. * * * * * At this same hour, on the turnpike road, about six miles distant from Mount Calm, plunged on through darkness, mire, and driving rain, a one-horse chaise, occupied by two travelers—Dr. Hardcastle and Mrs. Garnet. They traveled on in perfect silence for two hours before reaching the grounds of Mount Calm. But, upon passing the outer gate and entering upon the premises, Alice became nervous and uneasy, and at length she asked: “Magnus, do you feel positively assured that he has received my letter, that he is prepared and expecting to see me?” “Without a doubt, dear Mrs. Garnet, he got your letter to-day at noon; assuredly, late as it is, he must be now expecting us.” “I wonder if he really does. I wonder if he has spread the news among the people of the plantation! It is really necessary to know, dear Magnus. Else my sudden and unexpected apparition among them will cause a general alarm and rouse the neighborhood.” “Very true, and at the first quarter I come to I will alight and find out.” They rode on in silence until they came to a solitary quarter on the outskirts of the plantation. Then Dr. Hardcastle, alighting, gave the reins to Mrs. Garnet, and trudged through the deep mud and pelting rain to the cabin from whence a faint light issued, and the low, sweet sound of a violin was heard. He rapped smartly with the handle of his riding whip. The music ceased, and a voice, which he recognized as belonging to Bob, the driver, called out from within: “Hoo dar, rappin’ at my door dis onseasonable hour o’ de night?” “Me, Bob! your old friend, Dr. Hardcastle; open the door and show yourself.” “Oh, my Gor A’mighty, Marse Magnate, is it you, sure ’nough, come from forrin parts?” ejaculated the old negro, fumbling at the wooden latch and wrenching open the door. “Come in, come in—come in, Marse Magnate, come in. Oh, blessed Lor’! I’m so joyed to see you. How is Miss Elsie! she long o’ you? Come in!” “No, Bob, I cannot come in. I am going straight on to the house. Elsie is not with me; she is at home, and—well, I can’t come in. I only called by to see you, my old friend, and to ask you if all were well at the house, and if anything new had happened.” “All well dar, honey, ’deed dey is, fus’ rate. Nuffin new, honey, ’cept ’tis Marse I’on g’wne be marry to Miss Ambush Wylie to-morrow night.” “Ah! Well, I wrote to General Garnet to say that I was coming to-night; is he expecting me, do you know?”