At this point Ted, who had been on some of the large boats between Jacksonville and Charleston, and had heard the cry warning the passengers to leave, screamed close to her.  “All asho’, dat’s gwine asho’!” and seizing her arm he led her to the plank and pushed her on to it, but not until she had shaken her bill in his face and said, “Licke-e-dar, a dollar!  All mine—­he done gin it to me, an’ I’se gwine to buy a gown, an’ a han’kercher, an’ some shoes, an’ some candy, an’ some—­” the rest of her intended purchases were cut short by a jerk of the plank, which sent her sprawling on her hands and knees, with a jeer from Ted sounding in her ears.  The “Hatty” was off, and with a feeling of relief the stranger kept his seat on the rear deck, or staid in his stateroom until Palatka was reached, where he went on shore, lifting his hat politely to the passengers, shaking hands with the captain, and giving a quarter to Ted, who nearly stood on his head for joy, and could scarcely wait for the next trip to Enterprise, where he would find Mandy Ann and tell her of his good fortune, doubling or trebling the amount as he might feel inclined at the time.

CHAPTER IV

HOPING AND WAITING

The curiosity concerning the stranger at Enterprise had nearly died out when it was roused again to fever heat by the arrival at the clearing of a little girl, whom the young mother baptized with bitter tears, but refused to talk of the father except to say, “It was all right and people would know it was when he came, as he was sure to do.”

He didn’t come, and the girl’s face grew sadder and whiter, and her eyes had in them always an expectant, wistful look, as if waiting for some one or something, which would lift from her the dark cloud under which she was laboring.  Jake, who had returned from Richmond, suffered nearly as much as she did.  His pride in his family—­such as the family was—­was great, and his affection for his young mistress unbounded.

“Only tell me whar he is an’ I’ll done fetch him, or kill him,” he said, when in an agony of tears she laid her baby in his lap and said, “Another for you to care for till he comes, as I know he will.”

Eudora had said to the stranger that Jake would kill him if anything happened to her, but now at the mention of killing him she shuddered and replied, “No, Jake, not that.  You’ll know sometime.  I can’t explain.  I done promised more than once.  The last time was by that grave yonder, when he was sayin’ good-by.  It was same as an oath.  I was to go to school and learn to be a lady, but baby has come, and I can’t go now.  It will make some differ with him perhaps, an’ he’ll come for baby’s sake.  You b’lieve me, Jake?”

“Yes, honey—­same as ef ‘twas de Lawd himself talkin’ to me, an’ I’ll take keer of de little one till he comes, an’ if I sees somebody winkin’ or hunchin’ de shoulder, I’ll—­I’ll—­”