“Come now, Auntie,” said the captain in wheedling tones, “tell us and we will make you free.  You won’t have to work any more.”

“Oh, go ’long!” was her contemptuous rejoinder, “I’se free as I want to be.”

“Why, you old fool!” he roughly retorted, “you don’t know what freedom means.  You shall wear a silk dress and ride in a carriage and have a gold chain.”

“I speaks gold chain!” echoed the woman tossing her grey head, “you po’ white trash can’t come it ober dis chile wid yer crick-cracks.  Jes you go ‘long.  I’se got my bacon and greens, an’ a good cotton coat.  Yer can’t fool dis chile wid yer fine talk!”

“Curse the old hag!  Let’s try the boy.  You!  Sirrah!  Come here.”

With ashen cheeks the boy followed them into an outhouse, while the Captain flourished a stout whip.

“Oh! mother,” cried Netta, “don’t let them whip him!  He never was whipped in his life!”

Mrs. Lee advanced a few paces from the back gallery whence they had been watching the proceedings and called, “Charlie!”

The boy sprang towards his mistress, his captors not venturing to be too rash at the outset.

“I want this boy for a moment,” explained the lady.  In sullen silence they waited.

“Going to buy him up to secrecy,” derided the Captain, “but I guess we’ll work it out of him when he comes back.  We’ve got him, sure, and can afford to wait.”

But Charlie did not come back.  Thrusting a bill into his hand his mistress said:  “Fly for your life, to Columbus and tell Col.  Scale that we must have protection.  There is no train.  Take the old country road and lose no time!”

Nor did the terrified boy let the grass grow under his steps.  Ere the next sun rose he was in Columbus, footsore, but safe.

Again baffled, the desperadoes took horse, and held a consultation.

“If I thought they knew,” muttered the Captain, “by ——­ they would be made to tell.  There’s no other way—­we must search that d——­ thicket.  You know what Jem heard at the window the other night.”

With this they galloped down the road, taking a more circuitous route to Dry Thicket than the little path hidden from view behind Lee Villa.  In an agony of foreboding Netta exclaimed:  “Oh, mother, we must save them.  Let’s get ready and go at once.  I know every part of Dry Thicket!”

Hurriedly donning the homespun dresses, the mother and daughters set out, leaving a maid in the house, and the old cabin “Granny” still smoking serenely over her knitting.  They were soon on the spot where the jewels had been buried.  The shock of the moment may be better conceived than described, when they saw an open pit, a pile of freshly-turned earth, and no trace of their carefully-concealed treasures!  The blood receded from every face.  Gone—­all gone!  The exquisite bridal presents—­the diamonds from her betrothed, the ancient pearls, Aunt Winifred’s family jewels, the heirlooms of plate—­all vanished as utterly as if they had never been.