"Here I is, Bre'er 'Liab."
"Is anybody hurt?"
"Not ez we knows on, 'cept two dat's lyin' on de groun' right h'yer by ye," said Nimbus.
"Dead?" asked 'Liab, with a shudder. He tried to raise himself up but sank back with a groan.
"Oh, Bre'er 'Liab! Bre'er 'Liab!" cried Nimbus, his distress overcoming his fear, "is you hurt bad? My God!" he continued, as he raised his friend's head and saw that he had lapsed again into insensibility, "my God! 'Gena, he's dead!"
He withdrew the hand he had placed under the shoulders of the prostrate man. It was covered with blood.
"Sh—sh! You hear dat, Nimbus?" asked Lugena, in a choked whisper, as she started up and peered toward the road. "Oh, Nimbus, run! run! Do, honey, do! Dar dey comes! Dey'll kill you, shore!"
She caught her husband by the arm, and endeavored to drag him into the shadow of the cabin.
"I can't leave Bre'er 'Liab," said Nimbus, doggedly.
"Yer can't help him. Yer'll jes stay an' be killed ye'self! Dar now, listen at dat!" cried the trembling woman.