Uncle Abner
My uncle looked down at the man.
"There is no hurry, Byrd," he said; "the night is but half advanced and you will not now go forward on your journey."
"My journey!" echoed the man. "What do you mean?"
"Why, this," replied my uncle: "that you would be setting out for Piccadilly, I imagine, and the dancing women, and the gentlemen who live by chance. But as you do not go now, we have ample leisure for our talk."
"Abner," cried Mr. Byrd, "what is this riddle?"
My uncle moved a little in his place before the fire.
"I left the Virginia wagons at midday," he went on; "night fell in the flat land; I could hardly get on; the mud was deep and the rains blew. The whole world was like the pit.
"It is a common belief that a horse can see on any night, however dark, but this belief is error, like that which attributes supernatural perception to the beast. My horse went into the trees and the fence; now and then there was a candle in a window, but it did not lighten the world; it served only to accentuate the darkness. It seemed impossible to go forward on a strange road, now flooded. I thought more than once to stop in at some settler's cabin. But mark you, Byrd, I came on. Why? I cannot say. 'Chance,' Mr. Evlyn Byrd, if you like. I would call it otherwise. But no matter."
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