“Well? And then?” demanded Harcourt.
“Den I tole her as my po’ ole man was woke up, an’ she went in to see him. An’ w’en she see how low he were she look mighty ’stress, an’ she say—de ole madam say:
“‘Moses,’ she say, ‘I’m berry sorry to see yo’ sick.’
“An’ she set down by his bed an’ put her han’ on his fo’head. An’ he say—my po’ ole man say:
“‘Mist’ess, I ain’t wurvy fo’ yo’ to care ’bout me.’
“Den he say to me, he say:
“‘Marffy, chile, yo’ go ’way. I got somefin to say to de madam w’ich I mus’ say to herse’f alone.’
“So, young marse, I went out ob de room, an’ lef’ de ole mist’ess settin’ by my ole man, wid her deliky han’ on his fo’head. An’ I went, an’ ’gan fo’ to make up de ole madam’s bed, an’ put her yoom to yights. An’ all de time I was a-doin’ ob it I yeard de mummerin’ ob deir woices in de yudder yoom, but couldn’ year wot dey was a-sayin’. An’ sometimes I yeerd a moan, but didn’t dare fo’ to ’trude ’fo’ I was called. An’ arter I had done de ole madam’s yoom I went an’ wash up all de breakfas’ t’ings an’ clean up de kitchen. ’Deed, by dat time, I frought it weer time fo’ dem to call me in, ’specially as I didn’t year no mo’ talkin’. W’en I were done cleanin’ up I went close to de do’ an’ listened, but couldn’ year nuffin, but ebery little while a moan, like some one in deep ’stress. Well, young marse, I waited ebber so long, an’ as nuffin could be yeard but dat moanin’, moanin’, I got ’larmed, an’ I jus’ peeped in’ an’ den I went in——”
Here suddenly the poor woman broke into a storm of sobs and tears, throwing her apron over her head, and rocking herself to and fro.
Harcourt did not attempt to comfort her. He did not know how. He could only say: