"Oh," I whined, "he won't come on that; he's overrated my speed and gone on to the next station, making five miles more going for me!" "Why, no, you can give three of your servants a pass to go on with the carriage, keep your maid and wait for the train." "Ah, no! No lady can choose to travel by rail where she can go in her own coach!" They said no more except to warn Luke of a bad piece of road about two miles on. Sure enough, in its very middle--crack!--we broke down. "De kingbolt done gone clean in two!" said Luke, and Robelia repeated the news explosively. "We'll leave the coach," I announced. "Fold the lap-robes on the backs of the two horses, for Rebecca and me. You-all can walk beside us." After a while, so going, we passed a large plantation house, its windows ruddy with home cheer. A second quarter-mile brought dimly to view a railroad water-tank and an empty flag-station house, and in the next bit of woods I spoke to Euonymus: "Have you that bundle? Ah, yes. Luke, this boy and I are going off here a step for me to change my dress. If any passer questions you, say I'll be right back." "Yass, madam, but, er, eh--wouldn' you sooner take yo' maid, Robelia, instid?" "No, for as to dress I'll be as much of a man, when I get back, as Euonymus." "Is Euonymus gwine change dress too?" "No, these things that I take off, your wife and Robelia may divide between them." I started away but Luke lifted a hand. I thought he was going to claim every dud for Robelia. Not so. "We all thanks you mighty much, madam, but in fac', ef de trufe got to be tol'----" "It hasn't got to be told _me_, Luke, if I----" "Oh, no, madam, o' co'se. I 'uz on'y gwine say--a-concernin' Euonymus----" I hurried off while the wife chided her good man: "Why don't you dess hide all dem thing' in yo' heart like _dey_ used to do when d' angel 'pear' unto _dem_?" Alone with Euonymus, as I whipped off my feminine garb and whirled into the other, I began to say that however suddenly I might leave the fugitives they must rest assured that I was not deserting them. To which---- "Oh, my Lawd," Euonymus replied, "us know dat!" We reached the pike again. "Rebecca, dismount. Hand me your bridle. Luke, for you-all's better safety I'm going back and return these horses. We may not see one another again----" "Oh, Lawdy, Lawdy!" moaned Rebecca. "In dis vain worl' you mean," Luke said. "That's all. Come, don't waste time. You'd better walk on for a short way in the pike before taking to the woods. Now go all night for all you're worth. Good-by." I turned abruptly. But my led horse was averse to abruptness, and all the family except the torpid Robelia poured up their blessings and rained kisses on my very feet. In my half-intelligent plan I intended first to stop at the house we had gone by, and had reached the gate of its front lane when I met one of its household, a lad of sixteen, on the pike. "Yes, he had just seen the disabled coach."