“Well done, Joe! But tell me, my good man, are we missed yet? Has any one inquired for us?”
“Plenty has axed arter you both, Marse! But as no one but me and Capping Pendulum knowed where you was gone, and as I locked your door, and took the key, most of the folks still think as how Miss Sybil has gone to bed, overcome by the ewents of the night, and as how you is a watching by her, and a taking care of her.”
“But, Marse, how is Miss Sybil, and where is she?” inquired the faithful servant, looking about himself.
“She is very much prostrated by fatigue and excitement, and is now sleeping in the church.”
“Thanks be to the Divine Marster as she can sleep,” said Joe, reverently.
“And now,” he continued, as he replaced it on his head, “I will kindle a fire and make the coffee, and may be she may wake up by the time it is ready.”
“Kindle a fire out here, Joe! Will not the smoke be seen, and lead to our discovery?” inquired Lyon Berners, glancing at the slender column of smoke from the fire in the church, that he himself had kindled, and now for the first time struck with the sense of the danger of discovery to which it might have exposed Sybil.
“Lord, Marse!” replied Joe, showing his teeth, “we are too far off from any human being for any eye to see our smoke. And even if it wasn’t so, bless you, there are so many mists rising from the valley this morning, that one smoke more or less wouldn’t be noticed.”
“That is true,” admitted Mr. Berners.