Nor did he. Within half an hour Barbara, passing through the hall, saw
that the rapiers were gone from the wall and she stopped, with the color
fled from her face and her hand on her heart. At that moment Ephraim
dashed in from the kitchen.
"Miss Barbary, somebody gwine to git killed. I was wukkin' in de ole
field an' Marse Grey rid by cussin' to hisself. Jist now Marse Erskine
went tearin' by de landin' wid a couple o' swords under his arm." His
eyes too went to the wall. "Yes, bless Gawd, dey's gone!" Barbara flew
out the door.
In a few moments she had found Harry and Hugh. Even while their horses
were being saddled her father rode up.
"It's murder," cried Harry, "and Grey knows it. Erskine knows nothing
about a rapier."
Without a word Colonel Dale wheeled his tired horse and soon Harry and
Hugh dashed after him. Barbara walked back to the house, wringing her
hands, but on the porch she sat quietly in the agony of waiting that was
the rôle of women in those days.
Meanwhile, at a swift gallop Firefly was skimming along the river road.
Grey had kept his word and more: he had not only ridden slowly but he
had stopped and was waiting at an oak-tree that was a corner-stone
between two plantations.
"That I may not kill you on your own land," he said.