id he, sternly, "who has been talking to you lately? Do you
know, Agatha? I have seen this for some time. I must learn what one
among the hands it is that in these times dares breed disaffection."

"No one's talked to me, Sah," said Flor,--"no one onter der place."

"Some one off of it, then."

"Mas'r Henry, I's been havin' my own t'oughts. Mas'r knows I could n'
lebe Miss Emma nowes. Could n' tief her property nowes. But ef Mas'r
Henry 'd on'y jus' 'sider an' ask li'l' Missy for to make dis chil' a
presen' ob myse'f"----

"So that's what it means!" And Mas'r Henry smiled a moment at the
ludicrous idea presented to him.

"Flor," said he then, abruptly, "I have never heard the whole of that
night in the swamp. It must be told."

"Lors, Sah! So long ago, I's done forgot it!"

"You may have till to-morrow morning to quicken your memory."

"Haan' nof'n' more to 'member, Mas'r."

"You heard me. You have your choice to repeat it either now or to-morrow
morning."

"Could n' make suf'n', whar nof'n' was. Could n' tink o' nof'n' all ter
once. Could n' tell nof'n' at all in a hurry," said Flor, with a
twinkle. "Guess I'll take tell de mornin', any-wes, Mas'r." And she was
off.

And Mas'r Henry went, back to his book,--the watcher nodding on his
spear,--and all the stormy scenes he expected soon to realize in his own
life, when the sword of conscription had numbered his old head with the
others.

Flor went out from the presence defiant, as became a rebel.

Although that special mode of martyrdom was not proper to the
plantation, and Flor felt in herself few particles of the stuff of which
martyrs are made, she was determined, that, as to telling so much as
that Sarp was still in the swamp, let alone betraying the way to his
late habitat,--even were she able,--she never would do it, though burned
at the stake. The determination had a dark look; nevertheless, two
glimmers lighted it: one was the hope, in a mistrust of her own
strength, that Sarp had already gone; the other was a perception that
the best way to keep Sarp's secret was to make off with it. She began to
question what authority Mas'r Henry had to demand this secret from her;
she answered in her own mind, that he had no authority at all;--then she
was doubly determined that he should not have it. She had heard talk of
chivalry at table and among guests; she had half a comprehension of what
it meant; she wondered if this were not a case in point,--if it wer