As may be supposed, Aun' Jinkey had been chary of details and had said nothing of Scoville's avowal. The mistress of the plantation looked upon her niece's illness as a sort of well earned "judgment for her perversity," but all the same, she took care that the strongest beef tea was made and administered regularly. Mrs. Whately arrived and became chief watcher. The stricken girl's physical weakness seemed equalled only by a dreary mental apathy. There was scarcely sufficient vital force left even for suffering, a fact recognized by the aunt in loving and remorseful solicitude.
By the aid of his bloodhound Perkins discovered that some one whom he believed to be Chunk had been about, and he had secret misgivings as he thought of the negro's close proximity. He had already learned what a blow Chunk could deal and his readiness to strike. Taking the dog and his gun he had cautiously followed the run into which the tracks led until satisfied that the man he was following had taken horse and was beyond pursuit. On his return he learned of Miss Lou's illness and so ventured to threaten Aun' Jinkey.
"Yer do know 'bout that cussed grandson o' yourn. Kyant fool Grip, en he' smelled out all the nigger's tracks. Now ef yer don't tell the truth I'll raise the kentry 'roun' en we'll hunt 'im to the eends of the yearth."
"Well den, Marse Perkins," admitted the terror-stricken woman, "I des tell you de truf. Dat gran'boy ob min' des come ter say good-by. Marse Scoville daid en Chunk mos' up Norf by dis time, he went away so sud'n."
"That Yankee cuss dead?" cried Perkins in undisguised exultation.
"Marse Scoville daid, shot of'n he hoss long way f'um yere," replied
Aun' Jinkey sorrowfully. "He kyant harm you ner you 'im no mo', ner
Chunk neider."
"Why the devil didn't you let us know Chunk was here las' night?"
"He my gran'son," was the simple reply.
"Well he isn't Zany's grandson! Now I know w'at she was snoopin' round nights fer, en Mrs. Baron'll know, too, 'fore I'm five minutes older."
Aun' Jinkey threw up her hands and sank back into her chair more dead than alive. She, too, had been taxed beyond endurance and all her power to act had ceased with her final effort to show that pursuit of Chunk would be useless.