"Dere's a ash-hopper in de stable-yahd; de niggers leaches 'em for lye, seh."
"Have they made any lye recently?"
They had not, and the subject of ashes was temporarily dropped.
Responding to further questions, Sam could not say whether the General had received any disquieting message by mail or otherwise; but he had been "po'ly" for about a week, and against his rather vigorous objections Doctor Bane had been called by Miss Joyce.
"Well, Sam, I guess that is all for the present," Mr. Converse was concluding, when a startling period was put to his words. Hasty footsteps on the gallery, a ringing of the bell, accompanied by a wild beating upon the door, announced somebody's frantic haste and impatience to enter. "Quick Sam! Open the door," he commanded, shortly.
At once Doctor Westbrook strode across the threshold, breathless and quivering with agitation. His eyes lighted instantly upon Converse, and with a quick intake of breath he stopped short.
"It's true, then!" burst incontinently from him. "My God, it's true! Is my father dead? Where is he?"
But before there was time for any reply, an inarticulate, half-repressed cry sounded from the stairway, and the next instant Captain Converse beheld a figure in a loose, flowing, white dishabille rush swiftly, lightly down the steps, and precipitate itself into the open arms of the physician.
"Mobley!"
The word was wrung from the figure in a sobbing, despairing cry.