de mawnin'"--to none of which did Harry make answer.

When they reached the bottom step leading to the long hall the old man
stopped and laid his hand on his young master's shoulder. His voice was
barely audible and two tears stood in his eyes.

"Don't you take no notice ob what happens to-night, son," he whispered.
"'Member ye kin count on ol' Alec. Ain't neber gwineter be nothin' come
'twixt me an' you, son. I ain't neber gwineter git tired lovin' ye--you
won't fergit dat, will ye?"

"No, Alec, but Mr. Willits will recover. Dr. Teackle has just said so."

"Oh, dat ain't it, son--it's you, Marse Harry. Don't let 'em down
ye--stand up an' fight 'em back."

Harry patted the old servant tenderly on the arm to calm his fears. His
words had made but little impression on him. If he had heard them at all
he certainly did not grasp their import. What he was wanted for he could
not surmise--nor did he much care. Now that Kate had refused to see him
he almost wished that Willits's bullet had found its target.

"Where did you say my father was, Alec?" he asked in a listless voice.

"In his li'l' room, son; dey's all in dar, Marse George Temple, Mister
Gilbert--dem two gemmans who stood up wid Mister Willits--dey's all
dar. Don't mind what dey say, honey--jes' you fall back on ol' Alec. I
dassent go in; maybe I'll be yere in de pantry so ye kin git hold o' me.
I'se mos' crazy, Marse Harry--let me git hold oh yo' hand once mo', son.
Oh, my Gawd!--dey sha'n't do nothin' to ye!"

The boy took the old man's hand in his, patted it gently and resumed his
walk. The least said the better when Alec felt like this. It was Kate's
voice that pierced his ears--Kate's sobs that wrenched his heart: "You
never thought of me!" Nothing else counted.

Harry turned the handle of the door and stepped boldly in, his head
erect, his eyes searching the room. It was filled with gentlemen, some
sitting, some standing; not only those who had taken part in the duel,
but three or four others who were in possession of the secret that lay
heavy on everybody's mind.

He looked about him: most of the candles had burned low in the socket;
some had gone out. The few that still flickered cast a dim, ghostly
light. The remains of the night's revel lay on the larger table and the
serving tables:--a half empty silver dish of terrapin, caked over with
cold grease; portion of a ham with the bone showing; empty and partly
filled glasses and china cups from whic