aware of strange voices, and looking up, was
fastened to her footing by the sight of two travelers just at hand. One
was on horseback; the other, a youth, trod the stepping stones, ragged,
dusty, but bewilderingly handsome. Johanna, too, heard, came, and then
stood like Barbara, awe-stricken and rooted in the water. The next
moment there was a whirl, a bound, a splash--and Barbara was alone.
Johanna, with three leaping strides, was out of the water, across the
fence, and scampering over ledges and loose stones toward the house, mad
with the joy of her news:

"Mahse John Wesley! Mahse John Wesley!"--up the front steps, into the
great porch and through the hall--"Mahse John Wesley! Mahse John Wesley!
De waugh done done! De waugh ove' dis time fo' sho'! Glory!
Glory!"--down the back steps, into the kitchen--"Mahse John
Wesley!"--out again and off to the stables--"Mahse John Wesley!" While
old Virginia ran from the kitchen to her cabin rubbing the flour from
her arms and crying, "Tu'n out! tu'n out, you laazy black niggers! Mahse
John Wesley Gyarnet a-comin' up de road!"

Barbara did not stir. She felt the soldier's firm hands under her arms,
and her own form, straightened and rigid, rising to the glad lips of the
disabled stranger who bent from the saddle; but she kept her eyes on the
earth. With her dripping toes stiffened downward and the youth clasping
her tightly, they moved toward the house. In the grove gate the horseman
galloped ahead; but Barbara did not once look up until at the
porch-steps she saw yellow Willis, the lame ploughman, smiling and
limping forward round the corner of the house; Trudie, the house girl,
trying to pass him by; Johanna wildly dancing; Aunt Virginia, her hands
up, calling to heaven from the red cavern of her mouth; Uncle Leviticus,
her husband, Cornelius's step-father, holding the pawing steed; gladness
on every face, and the mistress of Rosemont drawing from the horseman's
arm to welcome her ragged guest.

Barbara gazed on the bareheaded men and courtesying women grasping the
hand of their stately master.

"Howdy, Mahse John Wesley. Welcome home, sah. Yass, sah!"

"Howdy, Mahse John Wesley. Yass, sah; dass so, sot free, but niggehs
yit, te-he!--an' Rosemont niggehs yit!" Chorus, "Dass so!" and much
laughter.

"Howdy, Mahse John Wesley. Miss Rose happy now, an' whensomever she
happy, us happy. Yass, sah. De good Lawd be praise! Now is de waugh over
an' finish' an' eended an' gone!"