ing else I can do, pray command me. Drop in and see me when you
get up town. Good day, sir, good day." And removing his hat with a bow
just a little less deferential than the one he had given to Miss
Carrington, he proceeded up the street, leisurely and deliberately, as
though the world were waiting for him.

"And he is a real estate agent!" reflected Croyden. "The man who,
according to our way of thinking, is the acme of hustle and bustle and
business, and schemes to trap the unwary. Truly, the Eastern Shore has
much to learn--or we have much to unlearn! Well, I have tried the
one--and failed. Now, I'm going to try the other. It seems to promise a
quiet life, at least."

He turned, to find Moses in the doorway, waiting.

"Marster Croyden," he said, "shall I puts yo satchel an' things in de
Cun'l's room, seh?"

Croyden nodded. He did not know which was the Colonel's room, but it
was likely to be the best in the house, and, moreover, it was well to
follow him wherever he could.

"And see that my luggage is taken there, when the man brings it," he
directed--"and tell Josephine to have luncheon at one and dinner at
seven."

The darky hesitated.

"De Cun'l hed dinner in de middle o' de day, seh," he said, as though
Croyden had inadvertently erred.

And Croyden appreciating the situation, answered:

"Well, you see, Moses, I've been used to the other way and I reckon you
will have to change to suit me."

"Yass, seh! yass, seh! I tell Jose. Lunch is de same as supper, I
s'pose, seh?"

Croyden had to think a moment.

"Yes," he said, "that will answer--like a light supper."

"There may be an objection, after all, to taking over Colonel Duval's
old servants," he reflected. "It may be difficult to persuade them that
he is no longer the master. I run the chance of being ruled by a dead
man."

Presently his luggage arrived, and he went upstairs to unpack. Moses
looked, in wonder, at the wardrobe trunk, with every suit on a separate
hanger, the drawers for shirts and linen, the apartments for hats, and
collars, and neckties, and the shoes standing neatly in a row below.

"Whar's de use atak'in de things out t'al, Marster Croyden!" he
exclaimed.

"So as to put the trunk away."

"Sho'! I mo'nt a kno'd hit. Hit's mons'us strange, seh, whar yo mon't
a' kno'd ef yo'd only stop to t'ink. F' instance, I mon't a kno'd yo'd
cum back to Clarendon, seh, some day, cuz yo spends yo money on hit.
Heh!"

Then a bell tinkle