I walked about the old place until nearly noon, and then I went to town. The jailer met me with a doubtful shaking of his scheming head, and I knew that again he had received orders to be rigid in his discipline, but I was resolved that the old rascal's appetite for liquor should not play a second prank upon me; so when he hinted at another bottle I told him that I had spent so much of my life as a temperance lecturer that it was against my conscience to buy a favor with whisky. I looked steadily at him, and he began to wince.

"Why, to be sure," said he, "but, my dear sir, I didn't buy whisky with that dollar—bought a ham with it. If I didn't I'm the biggest liar in the world; and I don't reckon there's a family in this town that needs another ham right now worse than mine does."

"That may be, but I can't afford to pay so heavy a price every time I enter this place. You know that I am associated with the prisoner's lawyer, but we'll waive that right—I'll go to the sheriff and get an order from him."

"Why, my dear sir, that's unnecessary. Walk right in; but remember your promise not to say anything about that ham. There are a lot of vegetarians in this town, and if they hear of my eating meat they'll hold it against me. Walk in, sir."

I found Alf in high spirits. Conkwright had called and had assured him that his day of liberty was not far off. I told him that the old house was deserted, and he stood musing, looking at me dreamily, as if his mind were hovering over the scenes of his boyhood. I let him dream, for I knew the sweetness of a melancholy reverie. Sometimes the soul is impatient of the body's dogged hold on life, and steals away to view its future domain, to draw in advance upon its coming freedom—now lingering, now swifter than a hawk—and then it comes back and we say that we have been absent-minded. Alf started—his soul had returned. "And weren't you surprised to see them drive toward town?" he asked.

"Who, your parents and Guinea? They didn't; they drove toward the railway station."

"But they came to town, my dear boy—were here in this jail. They must have driven round to deceive you, for they knew that you would want to come with them, and they deceived you to spare you the pain of seeing us together. And I'm glad you were spared, though mother stood it much better than I expected. But this was because she firmly believes I'll be cleared. They haven't been gone a great while—there's a station not far from this town. Father played another trick on you. Yesterday, when he came to town to deed over the land, he left you dozing in the wagon and slipped off round here. I was surprised, for I had positively ordered him not to come. But he set me to laughing before he got in. 'Open that door by the order of the sheriff!' he cried at the jailer. 'Here's the order; look at it, but don't you look at me. Fight you in a minit.' And then he came in, and the first thing he told me was that they had gaffs on. He said that he had fought hard to keep mother from coming, at night when the rest were asleep; and I swore that she must not come, but she did. Bill, you brought me a message that sent me to heaven; and now let me ask if you know that Guinea loves you? There, don't say a word—you know it. She told me, standing where you are now—told me everything, and what a talker she is when once she is started. But you must let her have her way, and she will come to you, holding out her hands. Have you seen Millie?"

"No, not since that night. But I am going to see her."

Then I told him that Chyd had come to the house—I reproduced the scene, and Alf's merriment rang throughout the jail.

"Yes," he said, "you can go over there all right enough. The General likes you, anyway. I don't know what he thinks of me—still sizes me as a boy, I suppose; and if he were to come in here now I believe he would ask me what father was doing. But it makes no difference what he thinks. The judge tells me that you are going to study law with him. Jumped into an interesting case right at once, didn't you?"

We talked a long time and we laughed a great deal, for we were in a paradise, although in a jail. And I left him with a promise that I would soon bring him a direct word from Millie.

I found Conkwright in his office, with his slippered feet on a table. He bade me come in, and he said nothing more, but sat there pressing his closed eye-lids with his thumb and fore-finger. How square a chin he had and how rugged was his face, trenched with the deep ruts of many a combat. His had been a life of turmoil and of fight. He was not born of the aristocracy. I had heard that he was the son of a Yankee clock peddler. But to success he had fought his way, over many an aristocratic failure.

"Judge, have you finally decided that I may come into your office?"

"Thought we settled that at first," he replied, without opening his eyes. "Yes, you may come in; glad to have you, and, by the way, I've got some work I want you to do right now. A woman was in here to-day to see if I could get her husband out of the penitentiary. I don't know but I helped put him there—believe I did. I was busy when she came in, and when she went away I remembered how poorly she was dressed, and I am afraid that I didn't speak to her as kindly as I should have. She lives at the south end of the street behind the jail, left hand side, I believe. Look in that vest hanging up there and you'll find twenty dollars in the pocket, right hand side, I think. Take the money and slip down to that woman's house and give it to her. But don't let anyone see you and don't tell her who sent it. Might tell her that the State sent it as wages due for overtime put in by her husband. And you needn't come back this evening, for it's time to close up."

I looked back at him as I stepped out. He had not changed his position and his eyes were still closed. And this was my first work as a student of the law—a brave beginning, the agent of a noble design. I found the place without having to make inquiry, and a wretched hut it was. The woman was shabby and two ragged children were lying on the floor. I gave her the twenty dollars—I did more, I gave her a part of the money which Perdue had given me. I explained that her husband had worked overtime and that the State, following an old custom, had sent her the wages of his extra labor. She was not a very good-natured woman; she said that the State and the rest of us ought to be ashamed of ourselves for having robbed her of her husband, and she declared that if she ever got money enough she would sue old Conkwright and the sheriff and everybody else. I was glad enough to quit that wretched and depressing scene; and in the cool of the evening I strolled about the town. The business part of the place was mean, but further out there were handsome old residences, pillared and vine-clad. And in front of the most attractive one I halted to gaze at the trees and the shrubbery, dim in the twilight.

A boy came along and I asked him who lived there and he answered: "Judge Conkwright.""He deserves to live in even a better house," I mused, as I turned away; and just then I was clapped upon the shoulder with a "Helloa, my old friend"—the telegraph operator. I shook hands with him, and at once he began to tell me of his affairs. "Getting along all right," he said. "Haven't got quite as much freedom as I used to have, but I reckon it's better for me. Wife thinks so much of me that she's jealous of the boys—don't want me to stay out with them at night. Don't reckon there's anything more exacting than a rag. But I had to have one. Without calico there ain't much real fun in this life. But enough of calico's society is about the enoughest enough a man can fetch up in his mind. Tell you what—I'll run on home and come back, and then you can go with me."

"No, I couldn't think of putting you to so much trouble."

"Won't be any trouble. Simply don't want to surprise her, you know."

"I'll call on you before long, but now I must go to the tavern."

"All right, and if I can get off I'll come over to see you. And I'll tell you what we'll do along about 11 o'clock. We'll go over to Atcherson's store with a lot of fellers and cook some eggs in the top of a paste-board hat box. Ever cook them that way? It's a world beater. Just break the eggs in the lid of the box and put it on the stove and there you are. Finest stuff you ever eat. But while you're eating you mustn't let them tell that jug story. Couldn't eat a bite after that. Well, I leave you here."

Fearing that the operator's "rag" might fail in the strict enforcement of the regulations that had been thrown about the night-time movements of her husband, that he might break out of the circle of his wife's fondness and call on me at the tavern, I left that place soon after supper and resumed my walk about the town. In some distant place where the land was dry a shower of rain had fallen, for the air was quickened with the coming of that dusty, delicious smell, that reminiscent incense which more than the perfume of flower or shrub takes us back to the lanes and the sweet loitering places of youth. Happiness will not bear a close inspection; to be flawless it must be viewed from a distance—we must look forward to something longed for, or backward to some time remembered; and my happiness on this night was not perfect, for a sense of loneliness curdled it with regret, but here and there, as I walked along, I found myself in an ecstasy—my nerves thrilled one another like crossed wires, electrified. I knew that it might be a long time before I should hear from Guinea, but I was still drunk with the newness of the feeling that she loved me.

Prayer-meeting bells were ringing, and old men and old women came out of the dark shadow of the trees, into the light that burned in front of a church—hearts that with age were slow and heavy, praying for the blessing of an Infinite Mystery. I entered the church and knelt down to pray, for I am not so advanced a thinker as the man who questions the existence of God; but I must admit that my thoughts were far away from the mumblings that I heard about me, far, indeed, from the mutterings of my own lips; and so I went out and sniffed the prayer of nature, the smell of rain that came from far off down the dusty road.

Early the next morning I went to Conkwright's office, to tell him that for a time I preferred to study in the country. The old man was walking up and down the room, with his hands behind him.

"Did you find that woman?" he asked.

"Yes, and I let no one see me."

"Good. You gave her the twenty dollars, and—is that all you gave her?"

"Why, that was all you told me to give her."

"Yes, I know, but didn't you give her some of your own money? Speak out now. No shilly-shallying with me."

"Well, she was so wretched that I gave her five dollars of my own money."

"You did, eh? The money you borrowed from me, you mean?"

"No, money that old Perdue thinks I earned. He insisted upon my taking twenty-five dollars."

"It's all right, my boy. Yes, it's all right, but you'll have to be more careful. It is noble to give, but it is not wise to look for an opportunity. It is better to give to the young than to the old, for the good we do the youth grows with him into a hallowed memory—stimulates him to help others—while the memory of the aged is fitful. Whenever you see a boy trying to amount to something, help him, for that is a direct good, done to mankind. Now to business. Have you read Blackstone?"

"Yes, but not thoroughly. I have never owned his book."

"There he is on my desk. I keep him near me. The lawyer who outgrows that book—well, I may be an old fogy on the subject, so I'll say nothing more except to commend the treatise to a lawyer as I would the multiplication table to a student of mathematics. And now let me say that when you have been with me one year we will begin to talk about other matters, the question of money, for instance. Don't be extravagant—don't give money because you don't know what else to do with it—and I will see that you shall not want for anything. Oh, yes, I know you are thinking of getting married, but it won't cost much to keep your wife. We'll fix all that, and if I don't make a lawyer out of you I am much fooled. You are in love and are mighty sappy just at present, but you'll come round all right; yes, sir, all right after a while."

"I think, Judge, that I can study much better out at the old house, and if you have nothing for me to do I should like to spend several days at a time out there."

"Why, is that the way to assist me? What good can you do me by poking off out there in the woods? Well, you may for a while. Three days a week for a time, eh? All right. You are as hard to break in as a steer. What about those stories you told at the General's house. I hear that they were great. But don't let people put you down as a story teller, for when a lawyer gets that reputation, no matter how profound he may be, the public looks upon him as a yarn-spinner, rather than a thinker. You might put them in print, but not under your own name. Bill—came within one of calling you Billy—a great many men succeed in law not because they are bright, but because they are stupid. I never see a jackass that I don't think of a judge—some judges that I know. Well, now, the first and one of the most important things to do is to go over to that tailor and have yourself measured for a suit of clothes. Did I say measured? Surveyed is the word," he added, looking at me from head to foot and then laughing. "Yes, I think that's the word. Well, go on now."

When the tailor had completed his "survey" I went to the jail, talked for a few moments with Alf and then straightway rode to the General's house. The old man was sitting on the porch, with one foot resting on a pillow, placed upon a chair. "Get down and come right in!" he shouted; and as I came up the steps he motioned me away from him and said: "Don't touch that hoof, if you please. Buttermilk gout, sir. Look out, you'll tip something over on me. It's a fact—every time I drink buttermilk it goes to my foot. Too much acid. How are you, anyway?"He cautiously reached out his hand and jerked it away when I had merely touched it. "Didn't sleep a wink last night; and every dog in the county came over here to bark. I am very glad you have called; glad that you are too liberal to hold a foolish resentment. And the old folks are gone. 'Od 'zounds, the way things do turn out. The first thing I know I'll swear myself out of the church. It was my pride, sir—but by all the virtues that man has grouped, must we apologize for our pride? Hah, sir! Must I grovel and beg pardon because I honor my own name? I'll see myself blistered first. It wasn't old Lim's fault. Confound it all, it wasn't anybody's fault. Then, sir, must I go crawling around on my belly like a—like a—like an infernal lizard, sir? I hope not. But it will come out all right, I think. After Alf is cleared the old people will come back and all will be well again. What do you want?"

A negro boy had poked his head out of the hall door and was looking on with a broad grin. "Dinner!" cried the old man. "But is that the way to announce it—grinning like a cat? Come back here. Now what do you want?"

"Dinner is ready, sah," said the boy.

"Well, that's all right. But don't come round here grinning at me. Hand me that stick. Oh, I'm not going to hit you with it. Come, Mr. Hawes. No, I don't want you to help me. I can hobble along best by myself."

Millie was in the dining-room, and she turned to run when she saw me, but the old man hobbled into her way, so she came toward me with reddening face, and held out her hand. "I am glad to see you," she said. "Sit over here, please. That's Chyd's seat and he's so particular."

The son came in, said that he was pleased to see me, sat down, opened a pamphlet that looked like a medical journal and began to read.

"Mr. Hawes," said the General, "I understand that you have made arrangements to study law with Judge Conkwright. And a most fortunate arrangement, I should think. Smart old fellow, sir; smart, and a good man to have on your side, but a mighty bad man to have against you—half Yankee by parentage and whole Yankee by instinct. Millie, is that cat under the table?"

"I think not, father," the girl answered, after looking to see if the cat were there; but this did not satisfy the old man. "You must know, not think," he said. "There should be no doubt about the matter, for I must tell you that if he touches my foot I'll kill him. A cat would travel ten miles and swim a river—and a cat hates water—to claw a gouty foot. Chyd, just put that book aside if you please."

The young man folded the pamphlet and shoved it into his pocket. "I've struck a new germ theory," he said.

"Yes," replied the General, "and you'll strike a good many more of them as you go on. I should think that you want facts, not theories."

"But theories lead to facts," the young man rejoined. "The theory of to-day may become the scientific truth of to-morrow."

"And it may also be the scientific error of the day after to-morrow," I remarked.

He looked at me, spoke a word which I did not catch and then was silent, seeming to have forgotten what he had intended to say. I think that the word he uttered was "hah," or something to indicate that he had paid but slight heed to my remark. I did not repeat it, and the talk fell away from the germ theory.

"Now, Mr. Hawes," said the General, "I want you to help yourself just as if you were alone at your own board. It is a pleasure to have you with us, and an additional pleasure to know, sir, that you are to become a permanent citizen of this county. Men may think themselves wise when they apprentice their sons to a trade, averring that the professions are overcrowded, but that has always been the case, and yet, professional men have ever been the happiest, for they achieve the most, not in the gathering of money, but in the uplifting of mankind. My daughter, you don't appear to be eating anything. I hope that you have not permitted the timely, though unexpected, visit of Mr. Hawes to affect your appetite. Chydister, another piece of this mutton? Most nutritious, I assure you; a fact, however, which is, no doubt, well known to you. Mr. Hawes, I should think that you would prefer to sleep here at night, rather than to stay alone in that old house. You are more than welcome to a room here, sir. And I should like to hear anecdotes of your grandfather, the Captain."

"I shall be in the country but a part of the time during the week, and my coming and going will be irregular. But for this I should gladly accept your generous offer. As to my grandfather, I must admit that I know but little regarding his life."

"A sad error in your bringing up, sir. In that one particular we Americans are shamefully at fault. A buncombe democracy has insisted that it is not essential to look back, but simply to place stress upon our present force and consequence. That is a self-depreciation, a half-slander of one's self. Of course, it is not just to despise a man who has no ancestry, but it is a crime not to honor him if he has a worthy lineage."

And thus he talked until the rest of us sat back from the table, and then, gripping his cane and getting up, he said that he would like to talk to me privately in the library. Upon entering the room he filled a clay pipe, handed it to me, gave me a lighted match, filled a pipe for himself, and then lay down upon an old horse-hair sofa. I placed a cushion for his foot and he raised up and bowed to me. "I thank you, sir," he said. "I don't believe that Chyd would have thought of that. I believe that he will make of himself one of the finest of physicians, but a man may be a successful doctor and yet a thoughtless and an indifferent companion. You will please put the right construction upon what may appear as an over-frankness on my part, for the fact is I have never regarded you as a stranger; and I feel that what I say to you will go no further."

He was silent and I nodded to him, waiting for him to continue. He moved his shoulders as if to work himself into an easier position, and then he resumed his talk. "Of my own volition I would not have gone over to Jucklin's house to break that engagement—I would have waited—but my son told me to go, and after I had gone, why, of course, I had to act my part. But it was simply acting, for my heart was not in it. And I tell you, sir, that if old Lim had wiped his bloody hands in my face I would not have struck him. Chydister is proud, but his pride and mine are not of the same sort. With him everything must bear upon his future standing as a physician, and to me that has too much the color of business. I admit that I was grieved to discover that my daughter was in love with Alf. I don't say that he is not morally worthy of her or of any young woman, but he is poor and is indifferently educated, with no prospects save a life of hard work. And I don't believe that I need to apologize for desiring to see my daughter well situated. Now, my son regrets the step which he took and which he urged me to take, and at the earliest moment he will renew the engagement. I think almost as much of Guinea as I do of my own daughter. Although she is a country girl, who has led a most simple life, I hold her a remarkable woman—an original and a thinking woman, sir. And now what I request you to do is this—soften her resentment, if you can. There are matches at the corner of the mantelpiece."My pipe was out. I lighted it, and did not resume my seat, but stood looking at him.

"General," said I, "Guinea will never marry your son."

"The devil you say! Pardon me. I didn't mean to be so abrupt. But why do you think she will not marry him?"

"General, it is now your turn to pardon me, sir. She is to be married by a man who worships her, not a scientist, but a man with a heart—she is going to be my wife."

The old man sprang up and in a moment he stood facing me. There was a footstep at the door and Chydister entered the room.

"Go ahead with your emotional oratory, but pardon me while I look for my stethoscope," he said. "I want to see what effect an hour's run will have on the hearts of a hound and an ordinary cur."

"Sir!" cried his father, turning upon him, "this is no time to talk of the hearts of hounds and curs. The hearts of men are at stake."

"That so? What's up?"

"What's up, indeed, sir? This man says that Guinea Jucklin will not marry you."

"Yes, so he told me. Now I almost know that I put that thing right up here."

"'Zounds, man, will you listen to me!"

"Yes, sir, go ahead. He says she won't marry me. That's his opinion, undemonstrated—a mere assertion; he has given me no proof."

"Ah, have you any proof, Mr. Hawes?" the old man asked.

"I have, but it cannot very well be set forth in words; and with much respect for you, General, I must say that I prefer not to illustrate it."

"You see it's rather vague, father. Let me ask if she has said positively that she will be your wife?"

"Her lips may have made no promise beyond a figure of speech, and yet her heart——"

"Ah, more vague than ever," the young man broke in, looking at his father as if he were impatient to get away. "I must have left it somewhere else," he added, and the old General frowned upon him.

"Chydister, if you lose that woman it is your own fault."

"Well, no, I can hardly agree with you there, father. If I lose her it will be the fault of circumstances. Are you done with me?"

"Yes, you can go," said the General. He stooped, reached back for the lounge and laboriously stretched himself upon it. Chyd went out and I remarked that it was time for me to go. The old man made no reply, seeming not to have heard me, but as I turned toward the door he raised up and said:

"I would be a fool, sir, to blame you; and I trust that you will not blame me for hoping that you are mistaken."

He lay down again, and I left him. Millie was standing at the gate when I went out, and she pretended not to see me until I had passed into the road, and then, with the manner of a surprise, she said: "Oh, I didn't think you were going so soon—thought you and father were having an argument. Do you see—see him very often?"

There was a tremulous tenderness in her voice, and I knew that there were tears in her eyes, and I looked far away down the road, as I stood there with the gate between us.

"I have seen him every day," I answered.

"And does he look wretched and heart-broken?"

"No, he is happy, for he knows that you love him."

She caught her breath with a sob and I looked far away down the road.

"You told him—told him that I did. And I am so thankful to you; I would do anything for you. I dream of him all the time, and I see you with him. How terrible it is, shut up there and the sun is so bright for everyone else. Sometimes I go into the closet and stay there in the dark, for then I am nearer him. When will you see him again?"

"I am going back to town to-morrow."

"Will you please give him this?"

I reached forth my hand and upon my palm she placed a locket.

"I know that if you study law, Mr. Hawes, you will get him out. You are so strong that you can do most anything. Good-bye, and when you write to Guinea, send her my love."