"That was hard on you," said Calista. "Yes, it did seem hard, Missy; but He knew best. I tell my old woman they's just as much ours as ever they was, only the Lord's keeping them for us. Won't you stop in a minute and see Sally? She'll be dreadful glad to see you." "I am afraid I ought not to stop to-night, Cassius," replied Calista, looking, with rather longing eyes, at the neat little house, where stood Sally in the cleanest of turban handkerchiefs and aprons, curtseying, and showing her white teeth in a smile of welcome. "But I mean to come and see you some time. I should like to hear about my father." Sally was not to be cheated, however. She came down to the gate to speak to Calista; gave her a handful of lilies-of-the-valley, from her neat flower garden, and insisted on filling her basket with delicate, fresh-baked ginger-nuts, which Calista would have refused. "Please do take 'em, Missy," said Sally. "I know young ladies is fond of ginger-nuts, and it ain't every one that can make 'em like me, though I say it that shouldn't." She emptied her plate into Calista's basket, and then said something in an undertone to her husband, of which Calista only caught the words "Old Zeke." "I'm a-going," said Cassius. "Well, Missy, I won't urge you to stay, as it's growing late; and young ladies of good family shouldn't ought to be out in lonesome places after sundown. I've got to go your way a piece, so I'll just see you past the woods." "What did Sally say?" asked Calista, as they walked on together. "Oh, she was speaking about an old fellow that hangs about here sometimes; they call him Old Zeke. I don't really suppose he'd do you any harm; but he's a rough customer, and might scare you. And if you'll excuse the freedom, Missy, I wouldn't come this way unless you are driving. It's rather too lonesome a road for a young lady; and some of these pine rats is apt to be hanging round, fishing or something. There's Zeke now. Don't be scared, Missy, he won't hurt you." Calista looked up, and as she confronted the old man, she was glad she had not encountered him alone. He was a very tall and powerful man, a good deal bent, with a shock of grizzled hair that fell on his shoulders, and shaggy brows, under which looked out a pair of fierce light-blue eyes. He was dressed in an indescribable mass of rags and tatters; but over his shoulder he carried a good, serviceable looking gun. "Evening, Zeke," said Cassius, good-naturedly. The old man returned a surly sort of nod, and honored Calista with a fixed stare, which lasted till a turn of the road hid him from sight. "That's a queer old fellow," said Calista. "I am glad I did not meet him alone." "Well, I don't reckon he would have hurt you—indeed, I can't say as he ever hurt any one; but he is a queer body, as you say, Missy, and his wife is queerer still, if all tales are true. The folks round here do say that they know more than they've got any business to." "More about what?" asked Calista.