As the sun was setting behind the peaks of the Blue Ridge, a giant negro entered the village of Ham-bright. He walked rapidly down one of the principal streets, passed the court house square unobserved in the gathering twilight, and three blocks further along paused before a law-office that stood in the corner of a beautiful lawn filled with shrubbery and flowers. “Dars de ole home, praise de Lawd! En now I’se erfeard ter see my Missy, en tell her Marse Charles’s daid. Hit’ll kill her! Lawd hab mussy on my po black soul! How kin I!” He walked softly up the alley that led toward the kitchen past the “big” house, which after all was a modest cottage boarded up and down with weatherstrips nestling amid a labyrinth of climbing roses, honeysuckles, fruit bearing shrubbery and balsam trees. The negro had no difficulty in concealing his movements as he passed. “Lordy, dars Missy watchin’ at de winder! How pale she look! En she wuz de purties’ bride in de two counties! God-der-mighty, I mus’ git somebody ter he’p me! I nebber tell her! She drap daid right ’fore my eyes, en liant me twell I die. I run fetch de Preacher, Marse John Durham, he kin tell her.” A few moments later he was knocking at the door of the parsonage of the Baptist church. “Nelse! At last! I knew you’d come!” “Yassir, Marse John, I’se home. Hit’s me.” “And your Master is dead. I was sure of it, but I never dared tell your Mistress. You came for me to help you tell her. People said you had gone over into the promised land of freedom and forgotten your people; but Nelse, I never believed it of you and I’m doubly glad to shake your hand to-night because you’ve brought a brave message from heroic lips and because you have brought a braver message in your honest black face of faith and duty and life and love.” “Thankee Marse John, I wuz erbleeged ter come home.” The Preacher stepped into the hall and called the servant from the kitchen. “Aunt Mary, when your Mistress returns tell her I’ve received an urgent call and will not be at home for supper.” “I’ll be ready in a minute, Nelse,” he said, as he disappeared into the study. When he reached his desk, he paused and looked about the room in a helpless way as though trying to find some half forgotten volume in the rows of books that lined the walls and lay in piles on his desk and tables. He knelt beside the desk and prayed. When he rose there was a soft light in his eyes that were half filled with tears.