she looked up and said: "I have more than a
daughter's claim on you. I have the claim of gallantry and upon this I
base my plea."

He rebuked her with a hug and a kiss, saying not a word; but big Jim,
standing there, turned about, laughing.

"What are you snorting at, Goliath? Has a David at last sunk a joke into
your head? Come, let us go to the house."

"Father," said Louise, "I am going to show you how much I love you. And
oh, how I longed to rest in your arms the time you held them out to me,
in that desolate hall, the night of death; but I knew that if I yielded
I would go back to the nest with my wings untried. I had to go away. I
will tell you all about it, and I know that you will not be ashamed of
me."

Silently they took their way homeward, choosing a shorter route; and
coming upon an oozy place in the woods, Jim said to Louise: "I'm going
to carry you in my arms." He did not wait for her to protest, but
gathered her in his arms, and her head lay upon his shoulder.

"Do you want my love to build a mansion for your heart?" he whispered.

She put her arm about his neck.

They came out into the hard road, and still he carried her, with her
arms tight about his neck. The Major looked on with a sad smile, for the
sights of the day were still red before his eyes. But banteringly, he
said: "First time I ever saw this hard road so muddy."

Louise laughed, whispered to Jim and he eased her to the ground.

"Why, they've burnt Wash Sanders' house!" the Major cried. "See, over
there?"

They came opposite the place where the house had stood, and the Major
suddenly drawing back, said to Jim: "Lead her around that way. She
mustn't see this and she mustn't ask what it is."

Jim led her away, and the Major looked at Wash Sanders. Across a low
rail fence his body lay, his hands drooping to the ground, and in front
of him lay a gun that had fallen from his grasp; and a short distance
away the Major found a mulatto, lying dead beside the road.

At the Major's house the women were preparing supper. The hungry men,
some of them bleeding, had assembled in the yard. Darkness had fallen.

"Father," said Tom, coming forward, leading Sallie Pruitt by the hand,
"mother says that this girl shall live with us."

"Yes," said the old man, putting his hands on Sallie's cheeks and
kissing her. "Yes, my dear, you shall live with us." And turning to Low,
he said: "You are a brave man. My hand, sir." And Low, grasping the old
ma