Part 75 (2/2)

”No, it is not necessary,” said Mr Anderson.

”I beg pardon, sir,” cried Murray; ”from what this black fellow has said, I think you ought to have some of the men with us.”

”Oh, very well, then,” cried the lieutenant, ”bring half-a-dozen of the lads with you, Mr Roberts;” and the hall had a very business-like aspect as, to Murray's great disgust, Caesar led him into the study.

”Why, what are you doing, man?” he cried. ”Mr Allen is not in here.

I've searched the place three times.”

The black looked up at him quickly and showed his teeth; but it was in no grin of cunning, for the poor fellow's face looked muddy and strange.

”Caesar know,” he whispered hoa.r.s.ely, and the mids.h.i.+pman felt the fingers which gripped his wrist twitch and jerk as he was pulled towards the corner of the room just beyond the window.

Here the black stopped short, trembling violently, and pointed downward, before darting back, loosening Murray's wrist and making for the door.

”Stop him, Roberts,” cried Murray; but his words were needless, for the way of exit was completely blocked by the mids.h.i.+pman and his men.

”What does he mean by all this?” said Mr Anderson angrily.

”I don't quite know, sir,” cried Murray; but he followed and caught the black by the arm. ”Come,” he continued; ”show us where Mr Allen is.”

”Caesar berry frighten', ma.s.sa,” whispered the poor fellow, whose teeth were chattering; but he yielded to Murray's hand and followed him back towards the corner of the little room, where his eyes a.s.sumed a fixed and staring look as he leaned forward and pointed downward at the thick rug of fur which covered that part of the floor.

”What does he mean?” cried the lieutenant. ”Is the planter buried there?”

”Show us what you mean,” cried Murray, and he tried to draw the black forward; but the poor fellow dropped upon his knees, resisting with all his might, and, with eyes starting and rolling and teeth chattering, he kept on pointing downward, darting his index finger at the floor.

”I beg pardon, sir,” said Tom May gruffly. ”I think I know what he means.”

”What is it, then?” cried Murray.

”It's snakes, sir, same as I heered up-stairs.”

”Perhaps so,” said the lieutenant, ”so take care; some of these serpents creep into the houses here, and they are very poisonous. Mind what you are about, Mr Murray. Let the black pull the rug away. Mr Roberts, a couple of your men here with cutla.s.ses. Be smart, my lads, and strike the moment the brute is uncovered.”

”Ay, ay, sir!” came in a chorus from the guard; but every Jack stood fast, waiting for his fellows to volunteer.

”Pull the rug away, Caesar,” said Murray, as soon as the men had been ordered to advance, which they did after making a great show of spitting in their hands to get a good grip of the cutla.s.ses they drew.

”No, no, no, ma.s.sa. Caesar 'fraid, sah. Ma.s.sa Huggin kill poor Caesar dead, for show.”

”Is there a snake there, darkie?” said the lieutenant impatiently.

”No, ma.s.sa. No, ma.s.sa,” panted the poor fellow. ”Caesar brave boy; no frighten snake. Ma.s.sa Huggin kill um for show.”

”What does he mean? Master Huggin will make a show of him?”

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