image o' my young Marse, that was kilt long o' dis lars' year. And you got he voice. I kin mos' swar you wuz Marse Archy Corbin, like he wuz fo' he got married."
"And my name is Archibald Corbin, too," said the young man, comprehending the strange resemblance between himself and the dead and gone Archy that had so startled the old negro. He poked his card vigorously into Dad Davy's hand.
"What I gwine to do with this heah?" asked Dad Davy, eyeing the card suspiciously.
"Take this card to your master."
"And if he ax me who k'yard 't is, what I gwi' tell him?"
At this the young man burst out into a ringing, full-chested laugh. The negroes were new to him, and ever amusing, and he could not but laugh at Dad Davy's simplicity. That laugh brought the Colonel out into the hall. He advanced with a low bow, which the stranger returned, and took the card out of Dad Davy's hand, meanwhile settling his spectacles carefully on his nose, and reading deliberately:
"Sir Archibald Corbin, Fox Court."
The Colonel fixed his eyes upon his guest,
