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 “Lawsy! is you los' yo' way?”

He stroked the little head with a rush of self-pity.

“Yes, I have, son; I've completely lost my way.”

The child twisted his head around and peered up alongside Peter's arm. Presently he asked:

“Ain't you Mr. Peter Siner?”

“Yes.”

“Ain't you de man whut's gwine to ma'y Miss Cissie Dildine?”

Peter looked down at his small companion with a certain concern that his marriage was already gossip known to babes.

“I'm Peter Siner,” he repeated.

“Den I knows which way you wants to go,” piped the youngster in sudden helpfulness. “You wants to go over to Cap'n Renfrew's place acrost de Big Hill. He done sont fuh you. Mr. Wince Washington tol' me, ef I seed you, to tell you dat Cap'n Renfrew wants to see you. I dunno whut hit's about. I ast Wince, an' he didn' know.”

Peter recalled the message Nan Berry had given him some hours before. Now the same summons had seeped around to him from another direction.

“I—I'll show you de way to Cap'n Renfrew's ef—ef you'll come back wid me th'ugh de cedar glade,” proposed the child. “I—I ain't skeered in de cedar glade, b-b-but hit's so dark I kain't see my way back home. I—I—”

Peter thanked him and declined his services. After