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Ephum was called and told to lead the recruit to the presence of Mr. Hood, the manager. And he spent the remainder of a hot day checking invoices in the shipping entrance on Second Street. It is not our place here to chronicle Eliphalet's faults. Whatever he may have been, he was not lazy.
The straight figure of the Colonel towered above the sofa while he waited. A full minute passed. Once Judge Whipple's bony hand opened and shut, and once his features worked. Then, without warning, he sat up. "Colonel," said he, "I reckon I wouldn't be much use to Abe if I took that. But if you'll send Ephum after, cup of coffee " Mr. Carvel set the glass down.
"How mean of Pa!" she exclaimed, "when I took all this trouble to surprise him, not to be here! Where are they all? Where's Ephum? Where's Mr. Hood?" The eyes lighted on Eliphalet. His blood was sluggish, but it could be made to beat faster. The ladies he had met at Miss Crane's were not of this description.
Hood. But the Colonel had a will before which, when roused, even Mr. Hopper trembled. So that Eliphalet was always polite to Ephum, and careful never to say anything in the darkey's presence against incompetent clerks or favorite customers, who, by the charity of the Colonel, remained on his books.
"Ef Ephum jes had a mule, or even somebody to help him," she thought, "but he ain' got nuttin.
Ephum put down the duster, peered out of the door of the private office, and closed it softly. "Marse Comyn?" "Yes?" "Marse Comyn, I ain't got no use fo' dat Misteh Hoppa', Ise kinder sup'stitious 'bout him, Marsa." The Colonel put down his newspaper. "Has he treated you badly, Ephum?" he asked quietly. The faithful negro saw another question in his master's face.
They entered the store, paused at the entrance to the Colonel's private office, and surveyed it with dismay. "Clar t' goodness, Miss Jinny, yo' pa ain't heah! An' whah's Ephum, dat black good-fo'-nuthin'!" Miracle number one, Mr. Hopper stopped work and stared. The vision was searching the store with her eyes, and pouting.
"Mistah Ephum Prescott?" he said. "Yes," answered Ephraim, "that's me." Cynthia shut the door and gave him the roll, but Ephraim took it as though he were afraid of its contents. "Guess it's some of them war records from Amasy," he said. "Oh, Cousin Eph," exclaimed Cynthia, excitedly, "why don't you open it? If you don't I will."
He saw in hers the deep blue light of the skies after an evening's storm. She was calm, and save for a little quiver of the voice, mistress of herself as she spoke to the group of cowering servants. "Mammy," she said, "get up on the box with Ned. And, Ned, walk the horses to the levee, so that the rest may follow. Ephum, you stay here with the house, and I will send Ned back to keep you company."
The picture of Clarence in the diamond frame she puts inside the waist of her gown. No, she will not go to Bellegarde. That is too near the city. With frantic haste she closes the trunk, which Ephum and Jackson carry downstairs and place between the seats of the carriage. Ned had had the horses in it since church time. It is not safe outside. But where to go? To Glencoe?
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