!" They trotted down into the town. "D' you reckon C'nelius 'll
be there, father?--I--hope he will." The pallor was gone.

As the turnpike became a tree-shaded street, they passed briskly by its
old-fashioned houses set deep in grove gardens. Two or three weedy lanes
at right and left showed the poor cabins of the town's darker life shut
and silent. But presently,

"Father, look there!"

The Judge and his son turned quickly to a turfy bank where a ragged
negro lay at the base of a large tree. He was moaning, rocking his head,
and holding a hand against his side. His rags were drenched with blood.
The white eyes rolled up to the face of the Judge, as he tossed his
bridle to his son.

"Wateh," whispered the big lips, "wateh."

John threw his father's bridle back, galloped through a gate, and came
with a gourd full.

"Gimme quick, son, he's swoonin' away." The draught brought back some
life.

"Shan't I get a doctor, father?"

"Tain't a bit of use, son."

"No," moaned the negro. "I'm gwine fasteh dan docto's kin come. I'm in
de deep watehs. Gwine to meet my Lawd Jesus. Good-by, wife; good-by,
chillun. Oh, Jedge March, dey shot me in pyo devilment. I was jist
lookin' out fo' my boy. Dey was comin' in to town an dey sees me, an
awdehs me to halt, an' 'stid o' dat I runs, thinkin' that'd suit 'em
jist as well. Oh, Lawd!--Oh, Lawd! Oh!" He stared into the Judge's face,
a great pain heaved him slowly, his eyes set, and all was over. A single
sob burst from the boy as he gazed on the dark, dead features. The Judge
hasted to mount.

"Now, son, I got to get right into town. But you see now, you betteh go
along back to yo' motheh, don't you?"

"I'm goin' with you."

XIII.

FOR FANNIE

They came where two men sat on horses in the way. "Sorry, Judge, but
them's orders, seh; only enrolled men can pass."

But the speakers presently concluded that it could never have been
intended to shut out such a personage as Judge March, and on pledge to
report to Captain Shotwell, at the Swanee Hotel, or else to Captain
Champion at the court-house, father and son proceeded. Montrose Academy
showed no sign of life as they went by.

Yet John had never seen the town so populous. Saddled horses were tied
everywhere. Men rode here or there in the yellow dust, idly or
importantly, mounted, dismounted, or stood on the broken sidewalks in
groups, some sober, some not, all armed and spurred, and more arriving
from all direction