"Eli! What has happened at Greenwood? Ludwell's home?
"Unity, my dear," said the Major, "let him come with me. Let's go into the library, Fair."
But Fairfax Cary was halfway down the hail. The Major hastened after him, and at the porch door laid a thin old hand upon the other's arm. "Fair, my boy, you are going to need all a man's courage. Think of Dick and me as of Fauquier Cary's—as of your father's—old, old friend Come, now."
They found on the square porch at the back of the house, Colonel Churchill, the negro Eli, and a white man, roughly dressed. The first, seated on the steps, his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands, looked up with a gasp. "Fair, Fair—"
Cary spoke with steadiness "What has brought you here, Eli? Mr. Ludwell came home last night?"
Eli, trembling violently, and of the ashen hue that a negro takes in terror, tried to answer, but at first there came only jabbered and meaningless words. He fell on his knees, and finally became coherent. "Marse Fair—Marse Fair—ain' I done lif' you bofe in dese ahms w'en you wuz jes' little fellers—he er lot de oldes' an' you nuttin' but er baby, toddlin' after him eberywhar he went! Ain' I done ride behin' you bofe dese yeahs an' yeahs? Oh, Gawd-a-moughty! O Lawd, hab mercy—"
Cary took him by the shoulder. "Eli, stop that crying out and tell me at once what is the matter! What has happened to Mr. Ludwell?"
"I'll tell you, Fair," answered the Major, in a shaking voice. "The negro can't do it. Ludwell did not come home last night, and this morning James Wilson, here, found Saladin—"
"Far up the river road, near my house," said the man upon the steps. "'Twas just about daybreak. I didn't know, sir, whose horse he was, so I put him in my stable. Then my son and me and Joe White, a neighbour of mine, we set out down the river road."
"Oh, my young marster! Oh, my young marster!" wailed Eli. "De kindes' an' de bes'! Oh, Lawd hab mercy!"