nned and wholly incapable of action,
while the negroes howled dismally for Mas'r Hugh, who, Chloe said, was
sure to die.

"She'd felt it all along. She knew dem dogs hadn't howled for nothing,
nor them deathwatches ticked in the wall. Mas'r Hugh was gwine to die,
and all the blacks would be sold--down the river, most likely, if Harney
didn't get 'em," and crouching by the kitchen fire old Chloe bewailed
the calamity she knew was about to befall them.

Alice alone was calm and capable of action. A room must be prepared, and
somebody must direct, but to find the somebody was a most difficult
matter. Chloe couldn't, Hannah couldn't, Aunt Eunice couldn't, and
consequently it all devolved upon herself.

They carried Hugh to the room designated by Densie, and into which he
went very unwillingly.

It was not his den, he said, drawing back with a bewildered look; his
was hot, and close, and dingy, while this was nice and cool--a room such
as women had--there must be a mistake, and he begged of them to take him
away.

"No, no, my poor boy. This is right; Miss Johnson said you must come
here just because it is cool and nice. You'll get well so much faster,"
and Aunt Eunice's tears dropped on Hugh's flushed face.

"Miss Johnson!" and the wild eyes looked up eagerly at her. "Who is she?
Oh, yes, I know, I know," and a moan came from his lips as he whispered:
"Does she know I've come? Does it make her hate me worse to see me in
such a plight? Ho, Aunt Eunice, put your ear down close while I tell you
something. Ad said--you know Ad--she said I was--I was--I can't tell you
what she said for this buzzing in my head. Am I very sick, Aunt Eunice?"
and about the chin there was a quivering motion, which betokened a ray
of consciousness, as the brown eyes scanned the kind, motherly face
bending over him.

"Yes, Hugh, you are very sick," and Aunt Eunice's tears dropped upon the
face of her boy, so fearfully changed since yesterday.

He wiped them away himself, and looked inquiringly at her.

"Am I so sick that it makes you cry? Is it the fever I've got?"

"Yes, Hugh, the fever," and Aunt Eunice bowed her face upon his burning
hands.

For a moment he lay unconscious, then raising himself up, he fixed his
eyes piercingly upon her, and whispered, hoarsely:

"Aunt Eunice, I shall die! I have never been sick in my life; and the
fever goes hard with such. I shall surely die. It's been days in coming
on, and I thought to fight it off