Whenever I awoke in the course of that long and dreary night, it was to find the black giant standing near the bedside. Once his hand, like the wing of a buzzard, passed over me, and I muttered a complaint. "I just wanted to determine whether or not you had a fever, Sir," he said. "You were talking in your sleep, and I thought it best to investigate the state of your temperature. But you are all right."

I was half asleep and doubtless could not at morning have remembered a strain of music or a bit of pleasantry, but at daylight his stilted words were clear in my mind. I looked about for him but he was gone. Breakfast was brought in by a negress, tall enough to be his wife. I asked her if she were, and, showing me her teeth, she assured me that she was an old maid; that no man, even if one of the best preachers in the Lord's church, should be her master. She said that she had married one man on trial, but that, after living with her a year or more, he had robbed her of a silver piece and run away; and now she was going to teach her daughter never to take a man except on suspicion, and to be mighty careful even then. The amusement that she offered assisted me to eat. She talked incessantly during the time, and as she took up the tray to go out, the doctor and the gentleman who had advised him to prove to me that I was still possessed of both legs came into the room.

"Oh, he's all right," said the woman. "Yas, sah, an' you got ter take 'em wid 'spicion even if da is hurt."

The doctor pronounced me much improved, cut short his visit, and left me with his friend, at whom I now looked with considerable interest. He was of a manly build, dressed in a black "Prince Albert" coat, buttoned below, but opened out wide at the breast. The ends of his grayish mustache were slightly twisted, and on his chin was a "dab" of whiskers. He appeared to be proud of his bearing, and proud of the belief that no one could discover the seat of his pride. He moved about rather gracefully, carrying a soft hat in his hand, as if he were ready to salute a gentleman or bow profoundly to a lady.

"Pardon me, Sir," I began, and he turned toward me with a slight bow and with a slow motion made with his hat, "but will you tell me who is the master of this house?"

"I am," he answered, with a smile.

"But who are you, your name, please?"

"Has no one told you? Hah, don't you know yet?" His voice conveyed a sense of injury that so important a preliminary had been overlooked.

"No one has told me."

"Then, Sir, I have the pleasure of introducing myself. I am Giles Talcom."

"Oh, Senator Talcom."

His eyes snapped, he touched his "dab" of beard, and said:

"At your service, Sir."

We shook hands, and he sat down. "I have heard of you, Senator."

"Yes, I have introduced into the Mississippi Senate a great many reformatory measures, some of which have been adopted by our sister States."

"And you are the man who whipped Lige Patton."

"What!" he cried, snapping his eyes at me. "Hah, you got that nonsense from old Zack Mason, the pilot. Confound his old hide, he never will forget that. I was quite a young man in those days, Sir. I came here from Virginia, almost straight from the University, and was, if my examination should prove satisfactory, to take charge of a young ladies' school. But on the day before the examination took place Mr. Patton took it into his head to walk over me. He didn't, and, sir, without any examination at all, the good people gave me the male academy. The trustees (most of them had been river men, you understand) said that I was too valuable a piece of timber to waste on a female seminary. They said it was too much like chasing butterflies with a bloodhound. I didn't keep the school long; I came into my inheritance, went into politics, and here I am."

"Senator, I am under lasting obligations to you for—"

"Not at all, Sir, not at all. I spent a very pleasant evening with you at the St. Charles Theatre in New Orleans, and I said then, as I always do when a man has entertained me, I hope to be able to do something for him. And, Sir, while the opportunity was brought about by a sad misfortune, yet—yet I am really gratified at being the instrument, you understand, of giving you shelter and attention at this sad hour."

"How long have I been here?"

"Three days. But don't let that worry you. You are to remain until you feel perfectly able to proceed on your way."

"Were many people killed?"

"Quite a number. Two were found yesterday at the island twenty miles below. A large number were hurt, but they are being cared for. Our city is making great strides, but we have no hospital as yet, so our citizens threw open their doors to receive the wounded. And the dead have been cared for."

"How did our company fare?"

"Sir, I appreciate your modesty and unselfishness in not asking about your brethren first of all. The manager was killed, but the others escaped with slight injuries. Mr. Culpepper called to see you, but you were asleep at the time. And the old pilot, who escaped with a few bruises, has sent you his congratulations. He says that united he and you stood, and that divided you both fell."

"There is something else I should like to ask, about the big negro who stays here at night?"

"Oh, Washington Smith. But don't make a mistake and call him Wash. He is a humble servant of the church, but a dignified citizen of the Republic. Strange fellow. A number of years ago he presented a singular petition to the city council, begging for an education, and agreeing to work for the corporation in return for the money expended in his behalf. Most of the councilmen condemned the petition as a piece of impudence, but I was a member at the time, and I looked on it with favor, Sir. My enemies said that I was bidding for the negro vote. I raised money enough to send Washington to the Fisk University, and I can say with truth that I have never regretted the step, for he has held before me a constant example of gratitude. But I have talked to you long enough," he added, arising. "I don't want to tire you out—I want to see you on your feet again. And it won't be long. As soon as you are able to sit up we'll put you into a rocking chair, draw you into the parlor and Mrs. Estell will read to you."

He gave me a bow, accompanying the act with a slow and graceful sweep of his hat, and withdrew, leaving me to muse over the prospect of being compelled to submit to a torture administered by a Mrs. Estell. I could put up with the reading of a girl in her first poetic era, but I shuddered at the thought of a woman in her second sentimental childhood.