"Eatin', suh; eatin'!" he answered, with vehemence, replying to his master's question and accompanying the first and last words with a forward jerk of his head, by way of emphasis.
"This is good news you bring me, boy; we must have a look at him. He's the best bred horse in the Commonwealth," he added, to himself, as he turned aside to place his book upon a table, carefully noting the page as he did so. "It would be a pity in more ways than one for him to die by accident or foul play." Then aloud—"Have you seen your mistress recently?"
"Not since dinner, suh. I'ze heerd her say afo'time, do, dat she laks a nap in de rainy ebenin'."
From somewhere above a voice broke out singing as Peter spoke. The tune was a popular air of the day, lilting and free. The tones were those of a young woman, for they rang with irrepressible vitality, and there was hope and laughter and faith and happiness in them. The Major had started forward, but now he stopped and his head sank as under a benediction. Likewise did Peter's, for he always reflected his master. Thus they stood, types of the bond and the free, while that tender voice rang on above them as its owner moved about the room, for they could plainly hear her light footsteps going to and fro.
In his younger years the Major must have been a man to command any one's notice. Now, as he stood with his chin sunk in his stock under the spell of present enchantment and precious recollections of the past, one could behold the remnants of a magnificent physical being. He was exceedingly tall, long of limb and square-shouldered. His hands were slender and white; his face naturally grave and thoughtful. He was clean shaven except for close cropped mustache and carefully cut imperial, both white. His complexion was ruddy, but whether this was natural or acquired it is not for us to say. Certain it is, however, that Peter mixed his mint juleps three times a day a few minutes before each meal. Certain it is, also, that never in his long life had Major Dudley taken more whiskey at one time than was good for him. He held that it was a Kentucky gentleman's prerogative to drink, in moderation, and he had the profoundest contempt for the weakling who would bestialize himself by getting drunk. "Whiskey, suh," he would say, "is like every other luxury; to be used, not abused."
The singing ceased, and there was the patter of feet on the stair.
"She's awake, Peter," said the Major; "get my hat." Then as he stepped into the hall—"News, daughter!" he cried, to the vision in pink and white muslin descending the curved stairway. "Peter reports that the Prince is eating. Will you go with me to see him?"
A little croon of delight escaped the vision, and the next instant she had settled like a butterfly upon the Major's broad breast. "I knew he would get well!" she exclaimed, rising on tiptoe and pulling with both her hands on the shoulders of her father in a vain attempt to reach his lips with hers. He, seeing her purpose, caught her around the waist and lifted her bodily, though there was a matter of a hundred and twenty pounds to reckon with, and gave her the caress with a hearty smack.
"You'll have to learn to bring a stool along with you!" he panted; "I'm getting too old to lift such a buxom lass." But he smiled denial of his speech and patted her cheek fondly.
Peter presenting his stove-pipe hat with a low bow, the Major took it, placed it upon his sparse gray locks, and drawing his daughter's hand through his arm they passed out upon the long back porch, which had an eastern exposure, but was shaded all along its length by a species of vine which grew luxuriantly every summer. Peter preceded them, and Peter in motion was a sight to behold. It is useless to attempt to describe his method of locomotion. To one unfamiliar with the peculiar gait of a "befo' de wah" negro I can give no adequate picture of the old darkey as he shambled along over the large flat stones laid in a row which formed a walk to the gate of the lot wherein stood the stable. Behind him came the stately form of Major Dudley, and by his side Miss Julia, his only child, whose feet had just passed those elusive portals which give into the magical realms of young womanhood.