"But, massa, you let me come now with you? and I be over the river all right liket morning."
"Well, come if you will," said his master, "you can follow me;" and he dashed spurs into his horse and rode off.
Joey thus obtaining the permission he sought wasn't long in getting his horse saddled, and he galloping after his master whom he overtook on the road; as, notwithstanding his impatient haste, John was unable, owing to the fatigue his horse had already endured in the water, to keep in advance of the fresher steed of his black boy.
The two horsemen for some minutes rode rapidly side by side; and, as they approached Strawberry Hill, they every moment became more conscious, not only of the proximity of the blacks, but of their either meditating, or actually perpetrating some diabolical work. These kept up a chorus of voices which formed a perfect Babel of discord, resounding through the still night, and reverberating among the vaulted and umbrageous canopy of the bush like the conclaves of assembled pandemonium. Anon this was succeeded by frantic yells that curdled the very blood in John Ferguson's veins; and then shriek after shriek pierced the air, telling too plainly the nature of the savages' work.
What further stimulus could John have had for his fears? Here was a realization of his most direful dread. The very echo of the woods proclaimed the fate of his friends; and possibly that being whom he loved most on earth was by that wail numbered among the dead; her lovely features defaced by the brutality of fiendish savages; and her fair form mutilated and possibly dishonoured. The thought was too harrowing; it deprived him of all consideration for his own person; the idea of his own saftey never entered his mind, and unarmed and defenceless as he was, he dashed the spurs again and again into the side of his steed, and galloped madly until he reached the scene of horror. He sprang from his horse, as the panting animal halted before the house, which was now still and apparently desolate; while the retreating forms of the blacks might have been seen by other eyes than John Ferguson's.
CHAPTER X.
"Wisdom! to leave his wife, to leave his babes,
His mansion, and his titles in a place
From whence himself does fly?"
Macbeth, Act 4, Sc. 2.
When Rainsfield parted from Jemmy Davies he retraced his steps to his own house, which he reached as the first rays of the morning sun irradiated the eastern sky; and, flinging himself upon a sofa in the sitting-room, he sought a few hours' rest. Sleep we cannot call it for it was more of the nature of a waking dream than refreshing slumbers; and, after enduring two or three hours of increasing restlessness, he sprang from his couch, and, while it was yet early morn, strolled forth to refresh his fevered brain.
His reflections were of no enviable kind. That the object the blacks had in returning to the neighbourhood was, as Jemmy Davies had warned him, he had no doubt; for, however much he was disinclined to credit the disinterestedness of Jemmy, and his good feeling towards himself, he could not imagine any motive that could influence the black in acquainting him of a plot if no plot existed. Rainsfield had no faith in one of their colour, believing sincerity a virtue incompatible with their nature; but at the same time he fully credited the information of Jemmy, especially after the evidently hostile preparations he had witnessed. He was also perfectly aware that he might expect the animosity of the blacks while they remained in the neighbourhood; and though he had flattered himself upon their former disappearance that he had been for ever relieved from the annoyance of their proximity, he now found he had exorcised the demon which threatened his destruction.