“Beautiful, indeed; and I will confess that it grows dearer as the time for my departure draws near,” answered Montfort. “I will walk with you,” he continued, as the clergyman turned in the direction of the road. As they passed through the wide entrance gates a Negro woman was weeding her little garden; her pickaninny was astride her back, spurring his mother as a rider his horse. The woman and the child looked up and smiled at the master and his guest, and the woman put the child on the ground and stood upright to bob a queer little courtesy. They walked along in silence until they reached the plaza.
“My son, will you not be persuaded?”
“Father, I have made up my mind firmly, after due consideration. I believe it is for the best.”
They paused a moment at the square; then the holy man said solemnly, as he raised his hand in benediction: “If it then be for the best, which God grant it may be, I pray the good Father of us all to keep you in safety and in perfect peace.” He turned and disappeared in the crowd.
Charles Montfort was immediately surrounded by his friends, who greeted him joyously, for he was a genial man and had endeared himself greatly to his neighbors.
