BY MARION HARLAND.
CHAPTER IX.
note was brought to Mr. Grigsby at noon of the next day. It was from Major Duncombe.
"My dear Mr. Grigsby,—As you did not come to my house last night, I take it for granted that your negro man did not deliver the message sent to you by Mr. Tayloe, who met him on the road yesterday evening. I write now to ask you to meet Mr. Tayloe and myself at half past three o'clock to-day at the school-house, for the discussion of important and confidential business. As the days are short, may I suggest that you be punctual to the hour named?
"Yours truly, C. S. Duncombe."
Mr. Grigsby had not seen the Major in his morning round of the plantation, never omitted except in very stormy weather. He had made it to-day with a clouded brow and heavy heart. Dick had affirmed upon his knees, the tears bursting from his frightened eyes, that he had no idea how "Miss F'lishy" got into the cart, or when, or where. He also declared that he had not left the vehicle for a minute during the journey. Flea was raving in delirium. The doctor, summoned at midnight, said that she was on the verge of brain-fever. Except for the scratches and the wetting, she had apparently sustained no external injury. Dee was laid up with a violent sick headache. His mother was positive in the belief that both of the children had "ketched" some anonymous disease somewhere and somehow.
"It didn't stand to reason [her reason] that the two on 'em would 'a' come down at oncet in exac'ly the same way unless 'twas somethin' ketchin. Flea mus' 'a' been off her head when she run away into the woods and got into the cyart while Dick was a-noddin'. That nigger could sleep 's well a-walkin' 'long as a-lyin' down."
When Mr. Grigsby arrived at the school-house Major Duncombe's buggy was already there, Nell, his bay mare, standing patiently under an aspen-tree. Her master and Mr. Tayloe were in the house, the Major in his usual seat on the corner of the desk, the schoolmaster tramping from side to side of the room. He stopped at the overseer's entrance, and eyed him frowningly, without speaking. Major Duncombe said "Good-day'" civilly, but gravely. Something unpleasant was in the air, and Mr. Grigsby was certain it had to do with him before the Major opened the conversation.
"We asked you to meet us here, Mr. Grigsby, because, as I wrote to you, the matter we have in hand is confidential. I must request that, whatever may be the outcome of our talk, the facts of this interview shall remain confidential between us three."