The next morning, when with quick stride, to make up for an anxious lingering in the passage way, I hastened toward the school, I heard the gallop of a horse, and turning about, saw old General Lundsford coming like a dragoon. Upon seeing me he drew in his horse and had sobered him to a walk by the time he reached a brook, on the brink of which I halted to let him pass.

"Why, good morning, Mr. Hawes. Beautiful day, sir. I am going your way a short distance, and if you'll get up here behind me, sir, you shall ride."

I thanked him, telling him that I much preferred to walk. "All right, sir, and I will get down and walk with you until duty, sir," he said sonorously, with a bow; "until duty, sir, shall call us apart."

I urged him not to get down, telling him that I could easily keep pace with his horse, but he dismounted even before crossing the stream, preferring, he said, with another bow, to take his chances with me. And thus we walked onward, the horse following close, now and then "nosing" his master's shoulder to show his preference and his loyalty. The season was mellowing and the old gentleman was airily dressed in white, low shoes neatly polished and a Panama hat. He was delighted, he said, to hear that I was getting along so well with the school, and he knew that I would be of vast good to the community. "I have heard of the Aimes conspiracy," said he, "and I am glad that I met you, for I wanted to talk to you about it. The truth of it all is, not that you once larruped that fellow Bentley, but that old Aimes wishes to put a sly indignity upon me by misusing one who has been entertained at my house. That's the point, sir. He heard that I had given you countenance at my board, and what his sister afterward told him was an excuse for the exercise, sir, of his distemper. But, by—I came within one of swearing, sir. I used to curse like an overseer, but I joined the church not long ago, and I've been walking a tight rope ever since. But as I was about to say, you are not going to let those people humiliate you."

"I am going to do my duty," I answered, "and my duty does not tell me to be humiliated."

"Good, sir; first-rate. As a general thing, we do not look for the highest spirit in a school-teacher—pardon my frankness, for, as you know, one who is dependent upon a whole community, one who seeks to please many and varied persons, is not as likely to exhibit that independence and vigor of action which is characteristic of the man who stands solely upon honor, with nothing to appease save his own idea of right. But I forgot. The grandson of Captain Hawes needs no such homily. The Aimes family is a hard lot, sir, but a gentleman can at all times stand in smiling conquest above a tough. Scott Aimes, a burly scoundrel, and, therefore, the pet of his father, at one time threatened to chastize my son Chydister, who is now off at college. And I said not a word in reply, when my son told me of the threat. I merely pointed to a shot-gun above the library door and went on with my reading of the death notices in the newspaper. That gun is there now, sir, and whenever you want it, speak the word and it shall be yours."

I laughed to myself and thought that I must be getting on well with the old General—first the offer of his library and now of his gun—and I thanked him for the interest which he had shown in me, a mere stranger. "A well-bred Southerner is never a stranger in the South," said he. "We are held together by an affection stronger than any tie that runs from heart to heart in any other branch of the human family. But," he added, sadly shaking his head, "I fear that this affection is weakening. Our young men are becoming steeped in the strong commercial spirit of the North. I should like to continue this pleasant and elevating conversation, but here's where I am compelled to leave you."

"Can I assist you to mount?" I asked, hardly knowing what else to say. He shoved his hat back and looked at me in astonishment. "You are kind, sir, but I am not yet on the lift." But he instantly recognized that this was harsh, and with a broad smile he added: "Pardon me for my shortness of speech, but the truth is that a man who has spent much of his life in the saddle contemplates with horror the time when he must be helped to his seat."

"General, I am the one to ask pardon," I replied, bowing in my turn.

"Oh, no, I assure you!" he exclaimed, mounting his horse with more ease than I had expected to see. "It was your kindness of heart, sir; a courtesy, and though a courtesy may be a mistake, it is still a virtue. Look at that old field out there," he broke off. "Do you call that an advancement of civilization. By—the tight rope, again—it is desolation."

It seemed that while walking he had regarded me as his guest, but that now, astride his horse and I on foot, he looked upon me as a man whom he had simply met in the road.

"A return of prosperity," he said, gathering up his bridle rein, "a fine return, indeed. About another such a return and this infernal world won't be fit to live in. I wish you good morning, sir."

That very day there came to school the sullen-looking boy whom I had seen in the tobacco patch. I asked him his name and he answered that he had forgotten to bring it with him. "Perhaps," said I, "it would be well to go back and get it."

"If you want it wus'n I do I reckon you better go atter it."

This set the children to laughing. My humiliation was begun."I understand why you have come," said I, "and I must tell you that you must obey the rules if you stay here. What is your name?"

"Gibblits," he answered. The children laughed and he stood regarding me with a leer lurking in the corners of his evil-looking mouth.

"All right, Mr. Gibblits, where are your books?" He grinned at me and answered: "Ain't got none."

"Well, sit down over there and I'll attend to you after a while."

"Won't set down and won't be attended to."

"Well, then, I'll attend to you right now." I grabbed him by the collar, jerked him to me and boxed his jaws. He ran out howling when I turned him loose, and for a time he stood off in the woods, throwing stones at the house. The war was begun. And I expected to encounter the Aimes forces on my way home, but saw nothing of them as I passed within sight of the house. I hoped to see a look of sweet alarm on Guinea's face, when I should tell her of the danger that threatened me, and there was sweetness in her countenance, when I told her, though not a look of alarm, but a smile of amusement. Was it that she felt no interest in me? The other members of the family were much concerned, but that was no recompense for the girl's apparent indifference. The old man snorted, Mrs. Jucklin was so wrought upon that she strove to prepare me a soothing dish at supper, but Guinea remained undisturbed. I could not help but speak to Alf about it when we had gone up to our room. "Oh, you never can tell anything about her," he said. "It's not because she isn't scared, but because she hates to show a thing of that sort. I'm mighty sorry it has come about. But there's only one way out—fight out if they jump on you. I don't know how soon they intend to do anything, but I'll nose around and come over to the school this evening if I hear anything. Don't let it worry you; just put it down as a thing that couldn't be helped."

It did not worry me—the fact that I might be on the verge of serious trouble, did not; but the thought of Guinea's careless smile lay cold upon my heart, and all night I was restless under it. And when I went down stairs at dawn I met her in the passage way, carrying a light. She looked up at me, shielding the light with her hand to keep the breeze from blowing it out, and smiled, and in her smile there was no coolness, and yet there was naught to show me that she had passed an anxious night. Ah, love, we demand that you shall not only be happy, but miserable at our wish. We would dim your eye when our own is blurred; we would smother your heart when our own is heavy, and would pierce it with a pain. Upon her children this old world has poured the wisdom of her gathered ages, and could we look from another sphere we might see the minds of great men twinkling like the stars, but the human heart is yet unschooled, yet has no range of vision, but chokes and sobs in its own emotion, as it did when the first poet stood upon a hill and cried aloud to an unknown God.

Away across the valley and over the hills the peeping sun was a glaring scollop when I came out to take my course through the woods toward the school. I knew that the girl stood in the door behind me. Alf and the old man were already in the field; I could hear them talking to their horses; and Mrs. Jucklin was up stairs—Guinea and I were alone. I turned and looked at her and again she smiled.

"The world seems to be holding its breath, waiting for something to happen," she said. "To me it always appears so when there is a lull in the air just at sunrise."

"What a fanciful little creature you are," I replied.

"Little! Oh, you mustn't call me little. I'm taller than mother. I don't want to be little, although it is more appealing. I want to be commanding."

"But what can be more commanding than an appeal?" I asked.

"Yes, when the appeal is pitiful, but I don't want any one to pity me," she said, laughing. "You big folks have such a patronizing way. You don't look well this morning, Mr. Hawes. Is it because you have been worrying over those wretched Aimes boys? Won't you please forgive me?" she quickly added. "I don't know why I said that, for I ought to know that you are not afraid of them."

"I didn't sleep very well," I answered, "but I was not thinking of the Aimes boys. Shall I tell you what worried me?""Yes, surely."

"It may require almost an unwarranted frankness on my part, but I will tell you. It seemed to me that——" I hesitated. "Go on," she said. "Well, it seemed that you were strangely unconcerned when I told you that I was likely to have trouble with those people."

She stood with her head resting against the door-facing. I looked hard at her, striving to catch some sign of emotion, but I saw no evidence of feeling; she was cool and reserved.

"I don't know why you should have thought that," she said. "Why should I be so uncharitable. I was very sorry that anything was likely to interrupt the school."

"Oh," I replied, and perhaps with some bitterness, "it really amounts to but little—the threat of those ruffians, I mean—and to speak about it almost puts me down as a fool. I hope you will forgive me."

I hastened away, with a senseless anger in my heart, and I think that it is well that I saw no member of the Aimes family that morning on my way to school.

Everything went forward as usual; play-time came, and the children shouted in the woods, and the hour for dismissal had nearly arrived when in stalked Alf with a shot-gun. He nodded at me and took a seat far to the rear of the room, as if careful lest he might interrupt the closing ceremonies. And when the last child was gone my friend came forward, shaking his head.

"What's the trouble now?" I asked, taking down my hat."Put your hat right back there, unless you want to wear it in the house," he said. "I have found out that those fellows are laying for you, and it won't be safe to start home now; we'll have to wait until dark. Oh, they'll get you sure if you go now. They have been to town, I understand, and have come back pretty well loaded up with whisky. Oh, they are as bold as lions now. But we'll fix them all right. We'll wait until dark and not go by the road, and to-morrow morning we'll go over and see what they've got to say."

"Alf, I don't know how to express my thanks to you. You are running a great risk——"

"Don't mention that, Bill. You stood by me, you understand—walked right into the General's house with me, and I said to myself that if you ever got into a pinch that I'd be on hand and stand with you. Did you bring a pistol?"

"Yes, and I am very glad that I didn't meet one of those fellows as I came along. However, I should not know one of them if I were to meet him in the road."

"But you'll know them after a while. Do these doors lock?"

"I think not, or, at least, they could be easily forced open. Do you think they are likely——"

"They are likely to do anything now," he broke in. "And there are just four of them big enough to fight—of the boys, I mean, for the old man has sense enough to keep out of it.""It is a wonder, then," said I, "that he hasn't sense enough to keep his sons out of it, as he must know that no good can be the result."

"That's all true enough," Alf replied, "but I have heard that you can't argue with the instinct of a brute, and I know that it is useless to argue with red liquor. Here, let's shove the writing desk against this door," he added. "Once more, shove again. That's it. Now we'll pile benches against the other one. We can't do anything with the windows, but must simply keep out of the way of them."

"Do you think they will shoot through them?" I asked.

He halted, with the end of a bench in his grasp, and looked at me. "Bill, if I didn't know better I'd swear that you are not of the South. Don't you know that if you enrage white trash it is likely to do anything? Don't you know that consequences are never counted?"

"I know all that," I replied, "but I was considering the incentive. I know that if you give the Cracker a cause he will do most anything, but have I given him a cause?"

"You have given him all the excuse he wants. One more bench. That's it. And now the fury of their fight will depend upon the quantity of liquor they have with them. I didn't tell any of the home folks that I was coming here—told them that I might meet you and that we might not be home until late. I wouldn't be surprised——"

Out in the woods there was the blunt bark of a short gun, the window glass was splintered in a circle, a sharp zip and a piece of the clay "chinking" flew from the opposite wall.

"What did I tell you?" said Alf, looking at me as if pleased with the proof of his forecast. "You get over on that side and I'll stay here. Get down on the floor and look through between the logs if you can find a place, and if you can't punch out the dirt, but be easy; they might see you. There he is again." The glass in the other window was shattered. "That's all right," said Alf. "They may charge on us after a while, and then we'll let them have it. Have you found a place?"

"I have made one," I answered, lying flat on the floor, gazing out. No shot had been fired from my side, and I had begun to think that the entire force was confronting Alf when in the sobering light I saw a man standing beside a tree not more than fifty yards distant. He appeared to be talking to some one, for I saw him look round and nod his head. I did not want to kill him, although the law was plainly on my side, but a man may stand shoulder to shoulder with the law and yet wound his own conscience. Another figure came within sight, among the bushes, appearing to rise out of the leafy darkness, and then there came a loud shout: "Come out of there, you coward!"

"Don't say a word," said Alf. "They are trying to locate you. I don't see anybody yet, and it's getting most too dark now. But I reckon we'd both better fire to let them know that there is more than one of us. We don't want to take any advantage of them, you know," he added, laughing.

"It doesn't look as if we were," I answered. "I could kill one of them, Alf."

"The devil you could! Then do it. Here, let me get at him."

"No," I replied, waving him off from my peep-hole. "It is better not to kill him until we are forced to."

"But we are forced to now, don't you see? They've shot at us. There you are!" They had fired a volley, it seemed. "Let me get at him," said Alf.

"I'll try him," I replied. And I poked the barrel of my pistol through the crack, pretended to take a careful aim and fired.

"Did you get him?" Alf asked.

"Don't know; can't see very well."

"Well, if I find one of them he's gone," he replied, returning to his own look-out. And a moment later the almost simultaneous discharge of both barrels of his gun jarred the house. "Don't know whether I got him or not," he said, as he drew back and began to reload, "for I couldn't see very well, but I'll bet he thinks a hurricane came along through the bushes. It's too dark now to see anything and all we can do is to wait."

"Wait for what?" I asked.

"Wait for them to try to break in. They'll try it after they have had a few more pulls at the bottle, I think. Now let's keep perfectly quiet and watch."

The moon had not yet risen and the woods stood about us like a black wall. No wind was abroad, the air in the house was close, and I could hear my own heart beating against the floor. There was scarcely any use to look out now, for nothing could be seen, and I arose and sat with my back against the wall, taking care to keep clear of the small opening which I had made. It was so dark in the room that I could not see Alf, but I could hear him, for softly he was humming a tune: "Hi, Bettie Martin, tip-toe fine." For days he had been heavy with the melancholy of his love, but now in this hour of danger his heart seemed to be light and attuned to a rollicking air. I have known many a man to breathe a delicious thrill in an atmosphere of peril, to feel a leap of the blood, a gladness, but it was at a time of intense excitement, a sort of epic joy; but how could a man, lying in the dark, waiting for he knew not what—how could he put down a weighty care and take up a lightsome tune?

Down in the hollow a screech owl was crying, and his mate on the hill-top replied to his call, while in the room near me was the whif of a bat. And Alf was now so silent that I thought he must have fallen asleep, but soon I heard him softly whistling: "Hi, Bettie Martin, tip-tip-toe fine."

"You seem to be enjoying yourself," said I. "If you had brought a fiddle we might have a dance."

I heard him titter as he wallowed on the floor. "This is fun," he said, "the only real fun I've had since—I was going to say since the war, but I was too young to go into society at that time.""What do you think they are up to now, Alf?" I asked.

"Blamed if I know. Getting tired?"

"Well, I don't want to stay here all night. What are we waiting for?"

"It's hard to tell just at present, and if we don't get a more encouraging report pretty soon we'll break the engagement and go home. What's that?"

I listened and at first heard nothing, and was just about to say that it must be the screech-owl come closer, when from a corner of the house there came a distant and sharp crackle. I heard Alf scuffle to his feet. "We are in for it!"

It was true, for now we could see the light glaring on the bushes and a moment later a spear of light shot inward, revealing my friend standing there with his hands buried deep in his pockets. "Those old logs are as dry as a powder horn," he carelessly remarked. "Won't take long to burn the thing down."

"But what are we going to do?" I cried. And now the room was aglow, and shadows were dancing on the wall.

"I was just thinking," said he, looking about. "They'll begin shooting in here as soon as that end is burned out. Wish I had seen that rascal when he slipped up here to kindle this fire. Helloa, it's spread to the roof."

I strove to show him that I could be as calm and as careless as he, but now I was startled, and excitedly exclaimed: "We shall be burned up like rats in a barn!"

"Oh, I reckon not. Here, let's pull up a plank out of the floor and crawl under and if we can get into the bushes we'll be all right. Here's a crack. But I can't move it," he added, after straining at the board. "See if you can get your fingers through here."

I dropped upon my knees and thrust my fingers through the crack. The fire had now gained such headway that the air was hot and a glare danced on the wall where the shadow had crept; and we heard the Aimes boys yell in the woods a short distance off. With all my strength I pulled at the board; I got off my knees and braced myself, and with a quick jerk the board came up with a loud rip and I fell backward on the floor.

"Go ahead," said Alf, quietly standing there, with his gun under his arm. "Get down through and work your way toward the other end."

"You go first, Alf."

"I'm in no hurry. But may be I know of an opening where the sheep come under in winter. Follow me, then."

Down we went into the fine and suffocating dust. Here and there the sheep and the hogs had dug deep beds in their restlessness, when nights had been cold, but in places the floor was so close to the ground that I could scarcely crawl through. We heard one end of the roof fall in, and then a volley was fired from the woods.

"What did I tell you?" said Alf. "We understand their tactics, any way. Don't believe you can get through here, Bill. Wait, I can dig down this lump with my gun. Wish I had a hatchet. Ever notice how handy a hatchet is?"

"For God's sake, let me get at it, Alf. I can feel the heat. The whole thing will fall down on us in a minute. That'll do; I can squeeze through."

Alf crawled into one of the deep beds and reached back to help pull me through. "Bill, looks like this place was made for you, only I wish they had made it a trifle bigger. Once more."

And there I struggled and there he pulled. "I am gone, Alf; I can't get out. Save yourself if you can."

"If you can't get out I know you are not gone, Bill," he replied with a laugh, but it was a laugh of despair rather than of merriment. "Don't give up. Once more. You are coming. What did I tell you?" And again he laughed, but not in despair. We were now at the wall, at the very hole through which the sheep were wont to come in. "You first, this time, Bill. Sheer off to the left. The bushes are not more than fifteen feet away."

With but little difficulty I squeezed through the opening. And now I was in a hot and dazzling glare. A breeze had sprung up with the flames, and behind me was a roar, and a crash of the falling beams. I looked not about me, but straight ahead toward the thicket, now waving as if swept by a strong wind; and within a minute after reaching the outer air I was crawling through a thick clump of blackberry briars, with Alf close upon my heels. We soon came upon a sheep-walk covered with briars, and now we could make faster time. The Aimes boys were still firing into the burning house, and it was evident that they had not discovered our escape."We can walk now," Alf whispered. "Turn down here to the right and keep the shumac bushes between us and them. Now we are all right."

Not another word was spoken until we had reached a knoll, some distance away. Then we halted and looked back. And now the old house was but a blazing heap. Alf was peeping about through the trees, and suddenly his gaze was set. He cocked his gun and brought it to his shoulder.

"No," I said. "You will only regret it." I grasped the gun and both hammers fell upon my hand. "Get back!" he commanded.

"No," I said, my hand still under the hammers. "You must not."

He looked hard at me for a moment and then suffered me to take the gun. The fire was now dying, and, looking to the left, whence the firing had come, I saw two of the Aimes boys standing under a tree.

"Bill, I could kill both of them," Alf said, in a sorrowful voice.

"I know, my dear boy, but you must not. You would always regret it. We will let the law take charge of them to-morrow."

"Not to-morrow, Bill, but to-night. To-morrow they will be gone."

"All right; just as you say. Where is the nearest officer?"

"A deputy sheriff lives about two miles from here, off to the right of our road home. Come on."

We came into the road after making a circuit through the woods, and hastened onward. And we must have gone nearly half the distance to the deputy's house when we heard the Aimes boys coming behind us, drunk and whooping. "They think we are burnt up," said Alf; "but we'll show them. Let's get aside into the bushes, and when they come along we'll let them have it."

"We will get aside into the bushes," said I, "but we will not let them have it. Come over this side. Let me have your gun."

He let me take the gun, and as he stood near me, waiting for the ruffians to pass, I thought that he made an unseemly degree of noise, merely to attract their attention so that he might have an opportunity to fire at them. "Keep still, Alf," I whispered.

They came down the road, singing a bawdy song. For a moment I was half inclined to give Alf his gun, but that early lesson, the waylaying of Bentley, restrained me. We heard the scoundrels talking between their outbursts of song. "Piece of roast hog wouldn't go bad jest about now, Scott. I feel sorter gnawish after my excitement of the evenin'."

"Wall, if you air hongry and hanker atter hog, why don't you go back yander and git a piece that we've jest roasted?"

Alf's hand closed about the barrels of his gun, and strongly he pulled, but I loosened his grip and whispered: "Let them go. There is no honor and very little revenge in shooting a brute."

"I reckon you are right," he replied, but he did not whisper, and out in the road there was a quick scuffling of feet and then a halt. I threw one arm about Alf and pressed one hand over his mouth.

"What was that, Scott?"

"I didn't hear nothin'."

"Thought I heared somebody a-talkin'."

"Yes, you thought like Young's niggers—thought buck-eyes was biscuits. Come on, boys. We'll go over and wake old Josh up and git more licker."

They passed on, and when I had given Alf the opportunity to speak he said: "Good. They are going over to a negro's house and we'll get there about the time they do, and if we can't get anybody but the deputy to help us we'll have to kill one or two of them. Now keep up with me."

Off through the woods he went at a trot, leaping logs and splashing through a brook where it was broad; and I kept well up with him. Already my mind had ceased to dwell upon the narrowness of our escape; I was thinking of Guinea as she had stood, shielding the light with her hand.