"I can't take it!" said Chad, choking back a sob.
"You will have to take it," the Major broke in, curtly, "unless—" the Major held back the bitter speech that was on his lips and Chad understood. The old man did not want to feel under any obligations to him.
"I would offer you Brutus, as was my intention, except that I know you would not take him," again he added, grimly, "and Brutus would run away from you."
"No, Major," said Chad, sadly, "I would not take Brutus," and he stepped down one step of the porch backward.
"I tried to tell you, Major, but you wouldn't listen. I don't wonder, for I couldn't explain to you what I couldn't understand myself. I—" the boy choked and tears filled his eyes. He was afraid to hold out his hand.
"Good-by, Major," he said, brokenly.
"Good-by, sir," answered the Major, with a stiff bow, but the old man's lip shook and he turned abruptly within.
Chad did not trust himself to look back, but, as he rode through the pasture to the pike gate, his ears heard, never to forget, the chatter of the blackbirds, the noises around the barn, the cry of the peacock, and the wailing of the ploughman:
Trouble, O Lawd!
Nothin' but trouble—
At the gate the little mare turned her head toward town and started away in the easy swinging lope for which she was famous. From a cornfield Jerome Conners, the overseer, watched horse and rider for a while, and then his lips were lifted over his protruding teeth in one of his ghastly, infrequent smiles. Chad Buford was out of his way at last. At the Deans' gate, Snowball was just going in on Margaret's pony and Chad pulled up.