"Grip will smell out the cussed nigger in the mawnin' ef he's been around," he assured himself before beginning his nightly debauch. "What's mo', Miss Baron ain't so high en mighty now she knows I'm comin' to be the rale boss on the place. She didn't even squeak w'en I gin my warnin' ter night."
Although Chunk knew his danger and was cautious, he was disposed on the first night of his arrival to take some serious risks in order to carry out the schemes dwelt upon during the long days of skulking home. Naturally fearless he had acquired much of Scoville's soldier-like and scouting spirit. The young officer had associated his dwarfish follower with the service rendered by Miss Lou and was correspondingly grateful. Chunk therefore received much consideration and good counsel by which he had profited. Especially had Scoville scoffed at the negro's superstitions, telling him that a fool afraid of spooks was neither fit to be a free man nor a soldier.
Since Chunk had no imagination and believed absolutely in his master there were no more "spooks" for him, but he knew well the dread inspired by that word on the plantation, and it was his purpose to avail himself of these deep-rooted fears. He heard the colloquy between Zany and the overseer very distinctly, but so far from running away, dogged the latter home. Long knife and revolver were handy in his belt and a heavy club was carried also. Since no soldiers were around, Perkins was not to be dreaded in the night, when once his resting-place was known. Crouching a long time in the shadow of some cedars Chunk watched the overseer's window, but the light was not extinguished. A sudden suspicion dawned on our watcher, causing him to chuckle low with delight. "Hi! he des feared of sleepin' in de dark, en dat can'le bu'n all night!" Gliding a few steps nearer brought to the quick ear a resounding snore, accompanied with a warning growl from, the bloodhound. "I des fix 'em bof fo' I froo," and the brawny hand clutched with greater force the heavy club it carried.
"Nex', some dem fellers mus' be tole ter he'p," and Chunk crept away to the quarters. It was an easy task to waken and enlist Jute, well known to be one of the most disaffected and fearless among the hands. The two started off to a grove which none could approach without being seen, and had a long whispered consultation. As a result, Jute returned to the quarters and brought back three others whom he knew would enter into the schemes on foot. By midnight Chunk had six of the braver and more reckless spirits among the slaves bound to him by such uncouth oaths as he believed would hold them most strongly. Then they returned to their cabins while the chief conspirator (after again reconnoitring the overseer's cottage) sought the vicinity of his granny's home.
With mistaken kindness and much shrewdness Chunk had resolved upon a course that would fill the old woman's life with terror. He adopted the policy of not letting her know anything of his plans, so that she could honestly say "I dunno" and prove the fact by her manner. He instinctively felt that it would have a very bad look if superstitious Aun' Jinkey remained composed and quiet through the scenes he purposed to bring about. Her sincere and very apparent fears were to be his allies. It was part of his scheme also that Zany should be very badly frightened and made eager to run away with him as soon as he and the others were ready for departure.
By a preconcerted signal he summoned Aun' Jinkey who was much affected by the thought that she was bidding her grandson a good-by which might be final, but oppressed with fear, she was at the same time eager he should go. Putting into his hands a great pone of corn bread she urged, "Des light out, Chunk, light out sud'n. 'Twix de baid news en Miss Lou en w'at Perkins do ef he cotch you, I des dat trembly, I kyant stan'."
"Perkins asleep, granny. I'se off now fer good, but I comin' back fer you some day."
He disappeared, and too perturbed to think of sleep the old woman tottered back to her chimney-corner. A few moments later she shuddered at the hooting of a screech-owl, even though she surmised Chunk to be the bird. Not so Zany, who answered the signal promptly. In a tentative way Chunk sought to find if she was then ready to run away, but Zany declared she couldn't leave Miss Lou "lookin ez if she wuz daid." Thinking it might be long indeed before she saw her suitor again, she vouchsafed him a very affectionate farewell which Chunk remorselessly prolonged, having learned in his brief campaigning not to leave any of the goods the gods send to the uncertainties of the future. When at last he tore himself away, he muttered, "Speck she need a heap ob scarin' en she git all she wants. Ef dat ar gyurl doan light out wid me nex' time I ax her, den I eats a mule." And then Chunk apparently vanished from the scene.
The next morning Miss Lou awoke feeble, dazed and ill. In a little while her mind rallied sufficiently to recall what had happened, but her symptoms of nervous prostration and lassitude were alarming. Mrs. Whately was sent for, and poor Mr. Baron learned, as by another surgical operation, what had been his share in imposing on his niece too severe a strain. Mrs. Waldo whispered to Miss Lou, "Your mammy has told me enough to account for the shock you received and your illness. Your secret is safe with me."
Meantime the good lady thought, "It will all turn out for the best for the poor child. Such an attachment could only end unhappily, and she will get over it all the sooner if she believes the Yankee officer dead. How deeply her starved nature must have craved sympathy and affection to have led to this in such a brief time and opportunity!"