The colonel, who had discovered that Virginia had been crying herself, looked thoughtful. They turned and walked through the hall together to the staircase. Virginia started to ascend—she wanted to escape—but her grandfather had more news for her.
“Dan’s a kind of clam,” he observed after a moment’s pause, “but I got something out of him. Fanchon has told him her story. He believes that it will help save Leigh. He’s going to put her on the stand.”
Virginia, leaning on the banister, blushed again.
“I thought she’d left William,” she said in a low voice.
“So she has—so she has; but Dan says she’ll do anything to save Leigh. She seems to be fond of that fool kid. Got him under her thumb, I suppose, and then made him do her bidding. I reckon she’d better go on the stand. It’s the only thing she can do. But, by gum, I’m sorry for Johnson Carter and his wife, and Emily and Dan.”
“And William,” suggested Virginia softly.
“No!” thundered the colonel. “No! I’m not a mite sorry for that lummox—he went and married her! He——”
The old man stopped with his mouth open. Lucas, the negro driver, had just appeared at the back door, his arms full of green ears of corn.
“Been up de hill, suh,” he explained genially, “an’ Col’nel Colfax’s son, he don’ send yo’ all dis yere corn. Golden Bantam—dat’s what he call it, same as dey calls dem lil no-account chickens.”
“It looks small,” said the colonel. “How about that horse? Did you like it, Lucas?”