“Thanks,” she said, rising lightly to her feet, “you make a very good duke indeed, and to reward you I shall not ask for anything like half your dukedom, but only for a scrap of paper. Here is ink and paper and a pen. Please write me a pass to go to Pittsfield. Dr. Partridge says I must have change of air, and I don't want to be stopped by your soldiers.” A ghastly pallor overspread his face. “You're not going away,” he stammered, rising slowly up. “To be sure I am. What else should I want of the pass? Come, you're not going to make me do all that asking over again. Please sit right down again and write it. You know you promised on your word of honor.” She even put her hand smilingly on his shoulder, as if to push him down, and as he yielded to the light but irresistible pressure, she put a pen in his nerveless fingers, saying gayly: “Just your name at the bottom, that's all. Father wrote the rest to save you trouble. Now, please.” Powerless against an imperious magnetism which would have compelled him to sign his own death-warrant, he scrawled the words. As she took up the precious scrap of paper, and hid it in her bosom, the door opened, and Mrs. Edwards entered with stately formality, and the next moment Perez found himself blunderingly answering questions about his mother's state of health, not having the faintest idea what he was saying. The next thing he was conscious of was the cold frosty air on his face as he walked across the green from the store to the guardhouse. CHAPTER TWENTY-FIRST THE HUSKING Scarcely had Perez left, when Edwards entered the parlor. “Did you get it?” he asked of Desire. “Yes, yes,” cried the girl. “Oh, that horrible, horrible fellow! I am sick with shame all through, sick! sick! But if I can only get away out of his reach, I shall not mind. Do let Cephas harness the horse into the chaise at once. He may change his mind. Oh, hurry, father, do; don't, oh, don't lose a minute.” Half an hour later, Cephas, an old freedman of Edwards, drove the chaise up to the side door, and a few bundles having been put into the vehicle, Desire herself entered, and was driven hastily away toward Pittsfield. To go back to Perez, on reaching the guardhouse, coming from the store, he went in and sat down in the headquarters room. Presently, Abe Konkapot, who was officer of the day, entered and spoke to him. Perez making no reply, the Indian spoke again, and then went up to him and laid his hand on his shoulder. “What is it?” said Perez, in a dull voice. “What matter with you, Cap'n? Me speake tree time. You no say nothin. You seek?” Perez looked up at him vacantly. “He no drunk?” pursued Abe, changing from the second to the third person in his mode of speech, as he saw the other paid no attention. “Seem like was heap drunk, but no smell rum,” and he scratched his head in perplexity. Then he shook Perez' shoulder again. “Say, Cap'n, what ails yer?”