Mason and Dixon line."

Colonel Winchester flushed in his turn, but made no direct reply.

"If you will assign us rooms, Miss Woodville," he said, "we will go
to them, otherwise we'll find them for ourselves, which may be less
convenient for you. I repeat that we desire to give you as little
trouble as possible."

"Do so, Margaret," interrupted Colonel Woodville, "because then I may
get rid of them all the sooner."

Colonel Winchester bowed and turned toward the door. Miss Woodville,
obedient to the command of her father, led the way. Dick was the last to
go out, and he said to the old lion who lay wounded in the bed:

"Colonel Woodville, I've met your nephew, Victor."

He did not notice that the old man whitened and that the hand now lying
upon the cover clenched suddenly.

"You have?" growled Colonel Woodville, "and how does it happen that you
and my nephew have anything in common?"

"I could scarcely put it that way," replied Dick, refusing to be
angered, "unless you call an encounter with fists something in common.
He and I had a great fight at his father's plantation of Bellevue."

"He might have been in a better business, taking part in a common brawl
with a common Yankee."

"But, sir, while I may be common, I'm not a Yankee. I was born and grew
up south of the Ohio River in Kentucky."

"Then you're a traitor. All you Kentuckians ought to be fighting with
us."

"Difference of opinion, but I hope your nephew is well."

The deep eyes under the thick white thatch glared in a manner that Dick
considered wholly unnecessary. But Colonel Woodville made no reply,
merely turning his face to the wall as if he were weary.

Dick hurried into the hall, closing the door gently behind him. The
others, not missing him, were already some yards away, and he quickly
rejoined Pennington and Warner. The younger men would have been glad
to leave the house, but Colonel Winchester's blood was up, and he was
resolved to stay. The little party was eight in number, and they were
soon quartered in four rooms on the lower floor. Miss Woodville promptly
disappeared, and one of the camp cooks arrived with supplies, which he
took to the kitchen.

Dick and Warner were in one of the rooms, and, removing their belts
and coats, they made themselves easy. It was a large bedroom with high
ceilings and wicker furniture. There were several good paintings on the
walls and a bookcase contained Walter Scott's novels and many of the
eight