The Four Pools Mystery | Page 5

the house,
set on a little rise of ground and approached by a rolling sweep of lawn.
It was a good example of colonial--white with green blinds, the broad

brick floored veranda, which extended the length of the front,
supported by lofty Doric columns. On the south side a huge curved
portico bulged out to meet the driveway. Stretching away behind the
house was a sleepy box-bordered garden, and behind this, screened by a
row of evergreens, were clustered the barns and out-buildings. Some
little distance to the left, in a slight hollow and half hidden by an
overgrowth of laurels, stood a row of one-story weather-beaten
buildings--the old negro cabins, left over from the slave days.
"It's just as I remember it!" I exclaimed delightedly as I noted one
familiar object after another. "Nothing has changed."
"Nothing does change in the South," said Radnor, "except the people,
and I suppose they change everywhere."
"And those are the deserted negro cabins?" I added, my eye resting on
the cluster of gray roofs showing above the shrubbery.
"Just at present they are not so deserted as we should like," he returned
with a suggestive undertone in his voice. "You visit the plantation at an
interesting time. The Gaylord ha'nt has reappeared."
"The Gaylord ha'nt!" I exclaimed in astonishment. "What on earth is
that?"
Radnor laughed.
"One of our godless ancestors once beat a slave to death and his ghost
comes back, off and on, to haunt the negro cabins. We hadn't heard
anything of him for a good many years and had almost forgotten the
story, when last week he reappeared. Devil fires have been seen
dancing in the laurels at night, and mysterious moanings have been
heard around the cabins. If you have ever had anything to do with
negroes, you can know the state our servants are in."
"Well!" said I, "that promises entertainment. I shall look forward to
meeting the ha'nt."

We had reached the house by this time, and as we drew up before the
portico the Colonel stood on the top step waiting to welcome me. He
was looking much as I remembered him except that his hair had turned
from black to white, and his former imperious bearing had become a
trifle querulous. I jumped out and grasped his outstretched hand.
"I'm glad to see you, my boy! I'm glad to see you," he said cordially.
My heart warmed toward the old man's "my boy." It had been a good
many years since anyone had called me that.
"You've grown since I saw you last," he chuckled, as he led the way
into the house through the group of negro servants who had gathered to
see me arrive.
My first fleeting glimpse through the open doors told me that it was
indeed true, as Radnor had said, nothing had changed. The furniture
was the same old-fashioned, solidly simple furniture that the house had
contained since it was built. I was amused to see the Colonel's gloves
and whip thrown carelessly on a chair in the hall. The whip was the one
token by which I remembered him.
"So you've been working too hard, have you, Arnold?" the old man
inquired, looking me over with twinkling eyes. "We'll give you
something to do that will make you forget you've ever seen work before!
There are half a dozen colts in the pasture just spoiling to be broken in;
you may try your hand at that, sir. And now I reckon supper's about
ready," he added. "Nancy doesn't allow any loitering when it's a
question of beat biscuits. Take him up to his room, Rad--and you
Mose," he called to one of the negroes hanging about the portico,
"come and carry up Marse Arnold's things."
At this one of them shambled forward and began picking up my traps
which had been dumped in a pile on the steps. His appearance struck
me with such an instant feeling of repugnance, that even after I was
used to the fellow, I never quite overcame that first involuntary shudder.
He was not a full-blooded negro but an octoroon. His color was a
muddy yellow, his features were sharp instead of flat, and his hair hung

across his forehead almost straight. But these facts alone did not
account for his queerness; the most uncanny thing about him was the
color of his eyes. They had a yellow glint and narrowed in the light.
The creature was bare-footed and wore a faded suit of linsey-woolsey; I
wondered at that, for the other servants who had crowded out to see me,
were dressed in very decent livery.
Radnor noticed my surprise, and remarked as he led the way up the
winding staircase, "Mose isn't much of a beauty, for a fact."
I made no reply as