was signed by Mr. Delamere, and witnessed by Jeff and Billy,
two servants in the house, neither of whom received any information as
to its contents, beyond the statement that they were witnessing their
master's will. "I wish to leave that with you for safe keeping,
Belmont," said Mr. Delamere, after the witnesses had retired. "Lock it
up in your safe until I die, which will not be very long, since I have
no further desire to live."

An hour later Mr. Delamere suffered a third paralytic stroke, from which
he died two days afterwards, without having in the meantime recovered
the power of speech.

The will was never produced. The servants stated, and General Belmont
admitted, that Mr. Delamere had made a will a few days before his death;
but since it was not discoverable, it seemed probable that the testator
had destroyed it. This was all the more likely, the general was inclined
to think, because the will had been of a most unusual character. What
the contents of the will were, he of course did not state, it having
been made under the seal of professional secrecy.

This suppression was justified by the usual race argument: Miller's
hospital was already well established, and, like most negro
institutions, could no doubt rely upon Northern philanthropy for any
further support it might need. Mr. Delamere's property belonged of right
to the white race, and by the higher law should remain in the possession
of white people. Loyalty to one's race was a more sacred principle than
deference to a weak old man's whims.

Having reached this conclusion, General Belmont's first impulse was to
destroy the will; on second thoughts he locked it carefully away in his
safe. He would hold it awhile. It might some time be advisable to talk
the matter over with young Delamere, who was of a fickle disposition and
might wish to change his legal adviser.

XXVIII

IN SEASON AND OUT

Wellington soon resumed its wonted calm, and in a few weeks the intended
lynching was only a memory. The robbery and assault, however, still
remained a mystery to all but a chosen few. The affair had been dropped
as absolutely as though it had never occurred. No colored man ever
learned the reason of this sudden change of front, and Sandy Campbell's
loyalty to his old employer's memory kept him silent. Tom Delamere did
not offer to retain Sandy in his service, though he presented him with
most of the old gentleman's wardrobe. It is only justice to Tom