Cleo had heard the shouts in the square with increasing dread. The hour was rapidly approaching when she must face Norton.

She had deeply regretted the last scene with him when she had completely lost her head. For the first time in her life she had dared to say things that could not be forgiven. They had lived an armed truce for twenty years. She had endured it in the hope of a change in his attitude, but she had driven him to uncontrollable fury now by her angry outburst and spoken words that could not be unsaid.

She realized when too late that he would never forgive these insults. And she began to wonder nervously what form his revenge would take. That he had matured a definite plan of hostile action which he would put into force on his arrival, she did not doubt.

Why had she been so foolish? She asked herself the question a hundred times. And yet the clash was inevitable. She could not see Helen packed off to Europe and her hopes destroyed at a blow. She might have stopped him with something milder than a threat of exposure in his rival\'s paper. That was the mad thing she had done.

What effect this threat had produced on his mind[Pg 347] she could only guess. But she constantly came back to it with increasing fear. If he should accept her challenge, dare her to speak, and, weary of the constant strain of her presence in his house, put her out, it meant the end of the world. She had lived so long in dependence on his will, the thought of beginning life again under new conditions of humiliating service was unthinkable.

She could only wait now until the blow fell, and adjust herself to the situation as best she could. That she had the power to lay his life in ruins and break Tom\'s heart she had never doubted. Yet this was the one thing she did not wish to do. It meant too much to her.

She walked on the porch and listened again to the tumult in the Square. She had seen Tom enter the house on tip-toe and knew that the lovers were together and smiled in grim triumph. That much of her scheme had not failed! It only remained to be seen whether, with their love an accomplished fact, she could wring from Norton\'s lips the confession she had demanded and save her own skin in the crash.

Andy had entered the gate and she heard him bustling in the pantry as Tom and Helen strolled on the lawn. The band in the Square was playing their star piece of rag-time music, "A Georgia Campmeeting."

The stirring refrain echoed over the sleepy old town with a weird appeal to-night. It had the ring of martial music—of hosts shouting their victory as they marched. They were playing it with unusual swinging power.

She turned with a gesture of impatience into the house to find Andy. He was carrying a tray of mint juleps into the library.[Pg 348]

Cleo looked at him in amazement, suppressed an angry exclamation and asked:

"What\'s that band playing for?"

"White folks celebratin\' de victory!" he replied enthusiastically, placing the tray on the table.

"It\'s only seven o\'clock. The election returns can\'t be in yet?"

"Yassam! Hit\'s all over but de shoutin\'!"

Cleo moved a step closer:

"The major has won?"

"Yassam! Yassam!" Andy answered with loud good humor, as he began to polish a glass with a napkin. "Yassam, I des come frum dar. De news done come in. Dey hain\'t gwine ter \'low de niggers ter vote no mo\', \'ceptin they kin read an\' write—an\' den dey won\'t let \'em!"

He held one of the shining glasses up to the light, examined it with judicial care and continued in tones of resignation:

"Don\'t make no diffrunce ter me, dough!—I hain\'t nebber got nuttin\' fer my vote nohow, \'ceptin\' once when er politicioner shoved er box er cigars at me"—he chuckled—"an\' den, by golly, I had ter be a gemman, I couldn\'t grab er whole handful—I des tuck four!"

Cleo moved impatiently and glared at the tray:

"What on earth did you bring all that stuff for? The whole mob are not coming here, are they?"

"Nobum—nobum! Nobody but de major, but I \'low dat he gwine ter consume some! He\'s on er high hoss. Dey\'s \'bout ten thousand folks up dar in de Square. De boys carry de major on dere back to de flatform an\' he make \'em a big speech. Dey sho is er-raisin\' er[Pg 349] mighty humbug. Dey gwine ter celebrate all night out dar, an\' gwine ter serenade everybody in town. But de major comin\' right home. Dey try ter git him ter stay wid \'em, but he \'low dat he got some \'portant business here at de house."

"Important business here?" she asked anxiously.

"Yassam, I spec him any minute."

Cleo turned quickly toward the door and Andy called:

"Miss Cleo!"

She continued to go without paying any attention and he repeated his call:

"Miss Cleo!"

She paused indifferently, while Andy touched his lips smiling:

"I got my mouf shet!"

"Does it pain you?"

"Nobum!" he laughed.

"Keep it shut!" she replied contemptuously as she again moved toward the door.

"Yassam—yassam—but ain\'t yer got nuttin\' mo\' dan dat ter say ter me?"

He asked this question with a rising inflection that might mean a threat.

The woman walked back to him:

"Prove your love by a year\'s silence——"

"De Lawd er mussy!" Andy gasped. "A whole year?"

"Am I not worth waiting for?" she asked with a smile.

"Yassam—yassam," he replied slowly, "Jacob he wait seben years an\' den, by golly, de ole man cheat him outen his gal! But ef yer say so, I\'se er-waitin\', honey——"[Pg 350]

Andy placated, her mind returned in a flash to the fear that haunted her:

"He said important business here at once?"

The gate closed with a vigorous slam and the echo of Norton\'s step was heard on the gravel walk.

"Yassam, dar he is now."

Cleo trembled and hurried to the opposite door:

"If the major asks for me, tell him I\'ve gone to the m............