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“Halloway was in the midst of a powder magazine, absolutely alone, a single spark would have blown him to atoms and might have caused a catastrophe which would have brought untold evil. But he was as calm as a May morning. He walked through them, the man who told me said, as if he did not know there was a soul in a hundred miles of him, and as if Absalom were only something to be swept aside.

“‘He wa’ n’t exac’ly laughin’, or even smilin’, said my informant, ‘but he jest looked easy in his mine.’

“They were all waiting, he said, expecting Absalom to tear him to pieces on the spot; but as Halloway advanced, Absalom faltered and stopped. He could not stand his calm eye.

“‘It was jest like a dog givin’ way before a man who ain’t afraid of him,’ my man said. ‘He breshed Absalom aside as if he had been a fly, and began to talk to us, and I never heard such a speech.’

“I got there just after it happened; for some report of what Absalom intended to do had reached me that night and I rode over hastily, fearing that I might arrive too late. When, however, I arrived at the place everything was quiet, Absalom had disappeared. Unable to face his downfall, he had gone off, taking old Joel with him. The tide of excitement had changed and the negroes, relieved at the relaxing of the tension, were laughing among themselves at their champion’s defeat and disavowing any sympathy with his violence. They were all friendly with Halloway.

“‘Dat man wa’ n’ nothin’ but a’ outside nigger, nohow,’ they said. ‘And he always was more mouth then anything else,’ etc.

“‘Good L–d! He say he want to drink blood!’ declared one man to another, evidently for us to hear, as we mounted our horses.

“‘Drink whiskey!‘ replied the other, dryly, and there was a laugh of derision.

“I rode home with Halloway.

“I shall never forget his serenity. As we passed along, the negroes were lining the roads on their way homeward, and were shouting and laughing among themselves; and the greetings they gave us as we passed were as civil and good-humored as if no unpleasantness had ever existed. A little after we set out, one man, who had been walking very fast just ahead of us, and had been keeping in advance all the time, came close to Halloway’s stirrup and said something to him in an undertone. All I caught was, layin’ up something against him.’

“‘That ‘s all right, Dick; let him lay it up, and keep it laid up,’ Halloway laughed.

“‘Dat ‘s a bad feller!’ the negro insisted, uneasily, his voice kept in an undertone. ‘You got to watch him. I’se knowed him from a boy.’

“He added something else in a whisper which I did not catch.

“‘All right; certainly not! Much obliged to you, Dick. I ‘ll keep my eyes open. Goodnight.’

“‘Good-night, gent’men’; and the negro fell back and began to talk with the nearest of his companions effusively.

“‘Who is that?’ I asked, for the man had kept his hat over his eyes.

“‘That ‘s Dick Winchester. You remember that old fellow ‘t used to belong to old Mr. Eaton–lived down in the pines back o’ me, on the creek ‘t runs near my place. His wife died the year of the big snow.’

“It was not necessary for him to explain further. I remembered the negro for whom Hal-loway had ridden through the storm that night.

“I asked Halloway somewhat irrelevantly, if he carried a pistol. He said no, he had never done so.

“‘Fact is, I ‘m afraid of killin’ somebody. And I don’t want to do that, I know. Never could bear to shoot my gun even durin’ o’ the war, though I shot her ’bout as often as any of ’em, I reckon–always used to shut my eyes right tight whenever I pulled the trigger. I reckon I was a mighty pore soldier,’ he laughed. I had heard that he was one of the best in the army.