The work of the plantation went on.

The _Martha_ and the _Flibberty-Gibbet_ came and went, as did all the miscellany of coasting craft that dropped in to wait for a breeze and have a gossip, a drink or two, and a game of billiards.
Satan kept the compound free of niggers.

Boucher came down regularly in his whale-boat to pass Sunday.

Twice a day, at breakfast and dinner, Joan and Sheldon and Tudor met amicably at table, and the evenings were as amicably spent on the veranda.
And then it happened.

Tudor made his blunder.