It was the recognition of
this deeper pathos that made him hesitate to reproach even while his
thoughts dwelt on the evils--that would, if the need came, send him
fearless and gentle to the fight. For what he saw was that behind the new
wrongs were the old ones, and that the sinners of to-day were, perhaps, the
sinned against of yesterday.

When at last he came out into the turnpike, he had not the courage to look
among the trees for the lights of Uplands; and for a while he rode with his
eyes following the lantern flash as it ran onward over the wet ground. The
small yellow circle held his gaze, and as if fascinated he watched it
moving along the road, now shining on the silver grains in a ring of
sand, now glancing back from the standing water in a wheelrut, and now
illuminating a mossy stone or a weed upon the roadside. It was the one
bright thing in a universe of blackness, until, as he came suddenly upon an
elevation, the trees parted and he saw the windows of his home glowing upon
the night. As he looked a great peace fell over him, and he rode on,
thanking God.

When he turned into the drive, his past anxiety appeared to him to be
ridiculous, and as he glanced from the clear lights in the great house to
the chain of lesser ones that stretched along the quarters, he laughed
aloud in the first exhilaration of his relief. This at least was safe, God
keep the others.

At his first call as he alighted before the portico, Hosea came running for
his horse, and when he entered the house, the cheerful face of Uncle
Shadrach looked out from the dining room.

"Hi! Marse Peyton, I 'lowed you wuz gwine ter spen' de night."

"Oh, I had to get back, Shadrach," replied the Governor. "No, I won't take
any supper--you needn't bring it--but give me a glass of Burgundy, and then
go to bed. Where is your mistress, by the way? Has she gone to her room?"

Uncle Shadrach brought the bottle of Burgundy from the cellaret and placed
it upon the table.

"Naw, suh, Miss July she set out ter de quarters ter see atter Mahaley," he
returned. "Mahaley she's moughty bad off, but 'tain' no night fur Miss
July--dat's w'at I tell 'er--one er dese yer spittin' nights ain' no night
ter be out in."

"You're right, Shadrach, you're right," responded the Governor; and rising
he drank the wine standing. "It isn't a fit night for her to be out, and
I'll go after her at once."

He took up his lantern, and as the old negro opened the doors before h