the excitement passed to avoid trouble.-Come, come, sir, we must be quick! We may be too late!"

She seized and pulled him toward the door.

"Yes. Yes, we must hurry," he said in a laboured whisper, looking around dazed. "You will show me the way, my child—you love him—yes, we will go quickly— quickly! my boy-my boy!"

Margaret called the landlord, and while they hitched Queen to the buggy, the old man stood helplessly wringing and fumbling his big ugly hands, muttering incoherently, and tugging at his collar as though about to suffocate.

As they dashed away, old Stoneman laid a trembling and on Margaret's arm.

"Your horse is a good one, my child?"

"Yes; the one Marion saved-the finest in the county.” "And you know the way?"

"Every foot of it. Phil and I have driven it often." "Yes, yes you love him," he sighed, pressing her hand.

Through the long reckless drive, as the mare flew over the rough hills, every nerve and muscle of her fine body at its utmost tension, the father sat silent. He braced his club foot against the iron bar of the dashboard and gripped the sides of the buggy to steady his feeble body. Mar garet leaned forward intently watching the road to avoid an accident. The old man's strange colourless eyes stared straight in front, wide open, and seeing nothing, as if the soul had already fled through them into eternity.

I

CHAPTER IX

"VENGEANCE IS MINE"

T was dark long before Margaret and Stoneman reached Piedmont. A mile out of town a horse

neighed in the woods, and, tired as she was, Queen threw her head high and answered the call.

The old man did not notice it, but Margaret knew a squadron of white-and-scarlet horsemen stood in those woods, and her heart gave a bound of joy.

As they passed the Presbyterian church, she saw through the open window her father standing at his Elder's seat leading in prayer. They were holding a watch service, asking God for victory in the eventful struggle of the day.

Margaret attempted to drive straight to the jail, and a sentinel stopped them.

"I am Stoneman, sir-the real commander of these troops," said the old man, with authority.

"Orders is orders, and I don't take 'em from you," was the answer.

"Then tell your commander that Mr. Stoneman has just arrived from Spartanburg and asks to see him at the hotel immediately."

He hobbled into the parlour and waited in agony while

Margaret tied the mare. Ben, her mother and father, and every servant were gone.

In a few moments the second officer hurried to Stoneman, saluted, and said:

"We've pulled it off in good shape, sir. They've tried to fool us with a dozen tricks, and a whole regiment has been lying in wait for us all day. But at dark the Captain outwitted them, took his prisoner with a squad of picked cavalry, and escaped their pickets. They've been gone an hour, and ought to be back with the body”

Old Stoneman sprang on him with the sudden fury of a madman, clutching at his throat.

"If you've killed my son," he gasped-"go-go! Follow them with a swift messenger and stop them! It's a mistake-you're killing the wrong man-you're killing my boy-quick-my God, quick-don't stand there staring at me!"

The officer rushed to obey his order, as Margaret entered.

The old man seized her arm, and said with laboured breath:

"Your father, my child, ask him to come to me quickly." Margaret hurried to the church, and an usher called the doctor to the door.

He read the question trembling on the girl's lips.

Nothing has happened yet, my daughter. Your brother has held a regiment of his men in readiness every moment of the day."

"Mr. Stoneman is at the hotel and asks to see you immediately," she whispered.

"God grant he may prevent bloodshed," said the father. "Go inside and stay with your mother."

When Doctor Cameron entered the parlour, Stoneman hobbled painfully to meet him, his face ashen, and his breath rattling in his throat as if his soul were being strangled.

"You are my enemy, Doctor," he said, taking his hand, "but you are a pious man. I have been called an infidelI am only a wilful sinner-I have slain my own son, unless God Almighty, who can raise the dead, shall save him! You are the man at whom I aimed the blow that has fallen on my head. I wish to confess to you and set myself right before God. He may hear my cry, and have mercy on me."

He gasped for breath, sank into his seat, looked around, and said:

"Will you close the door?"

The doctor complied with his request and returned. "We all wear masks, Doctor," began the trembling voice. "Beneath lie the secrets of love and hate from which actions move. My will alone forged the chains of Negro rule. Three forces moved me-party success, a vicious woman, and the quenchless desire for personal vengeance. When I first fell a victim to the wiles of the yellow vampire who kept my house, I dreamed of lifting her to my level. And when I felt myself sinking into the black abyss of animalism, I, whose soul had learned the pathway of the stars and held high converse with the great spirits of the agesages

He paused, looked up in terror, and whispered:

"What's that noise? Isn't it the distant beat of horses' hoofs?"

"No," said the doctor, listening; "it's the roar of the falls we hear, from a sudden change of the wind."

"I'm done now," Stoneman went on, slowly fumbling his hands. "My life has been a failure. The dice of God are always loaded."

His great head drooped lower, and he continued:

"Mightiest of all was my motive of revenge. Fierce business and political feuds wrecked my iron-mills. I shouldered their vast debts, and paid the last mortgage of a hundred thousand dollars the week before Lee invaded my state. I stood on the hill in the darkness, cried, raved, cursed, while I watched his troops lay those mills in ashes. Then and there I swore that I'd live until I ground the South beneath my heel! When I got back to my house, they had buried a Confederate soldier in the field. I dug his body up, carted it to the woods, and threw it into a ditch"}

The hand of the white-haired Southerner suddenly gripped old Stoneman's throat-and then relaxed. His head sank on his breast, and he cried in anguish:

"God be merciful to me a sinner! Would I, too, seek revenge!"

Stoneman looked at the doctor, dazed by his sudden onslaught and collapse.

"Yes, he was somebody's boy down here," he went on, "who was loved perhaps even as I love-I don't blame you. See, in the inside pocket next to my heart I carry the pictures of Phil and Elsie taken from babyhood up