Not only was he puzzled, but Zany also and Aun' Jinkey were sore perplexed at Miss Lou's silence. She had stood motionless and unheeding through the colloquy with the overseer, and now remained equally deaf and unresponsive to the homely expressions of sympathy and encouragement of the two women. They could not see her face, but quickly felt the dread which anything abnormal inspires in the simple-minded. Prone to wild abandon in the expression of their own strong emotions, the silent, motionless figure of the young girl caused a deeper apprehension than the most extravagant evidences of grief.
"Aun' Jinkey," whispered Zany, "you mus' des he'p me git her to her room."
She went with them without word or sign. Their alarm was deepened when they saw her deathly pale and almost rigid features by the light of her candle.
"Miss Lou, honey, speak ter yo' ole mammy. You broke my heart w'en you look dat away."
"I tell you he's dead," whispered the girl.
"Dis ter'ble," groaned the old woman. "'Fo' de Lawd I dunno w'at er do."
Zany felt instinctively that the girl was beyond their simple ministrations and she was desperately afraid that if Mrs. Baron came Chunk's presence would be revealed by words spoken unconsciously. She and Aun' Jinkey promptly agreed that Mrs. Waldo was their only hope and Zany flew to summon her.
Fortunately the lady had not retired and she came at once. "Louise,
Miss Baron, what is the matter?" she asked in strong solicitude.
"I tell you, he's dead," again whispered the girl, looking as if a scene of horror were before her eyes. "The Rebs were so near when they fired, and he fell off his horse sudden. Ch—"
Quick as light Zany's hand was over the girl's mouth. The scared face and trembling form of the young negress did not escape Mrs. Waldo's quick eye.