The warm, light kitchen remained untenanted for perhaps twenty minutes, when Jovial, with his Dinah on his arm and a lantern in his hand, entered, Jovial grumbling:
"Law-a-mity knows, I don't see what she should be a-wantin' to come here for! partic'lar arter de treatment she 'ceived from ole mis'tess las' night! tain't sich a par'dise nohow for nobody—much less for she! Hi, 'oman!" he suddenly cried, turning the rays of the lantern in all directions, though the kitchen was quite light enough without them.
"What de matter now, ole man?" asked Dinah.
"Where Nora? I lef' her here an' she aint here now! where she gone?"
"Hi, ole man, what you ax me for? how you 'spect I know?"
"Well, I 'clare ef dat don't beat eberyting!"
"Maybe she done gone back in de house ag'in!" suggested Dinah.
"Maybe she hab; I go look; but stop, first let me look out'n de door to see if she went away," said Jovial, going to the door and holding the lantern down near the ground.
"Yes, Dinah, 'oman, here day is; little foot-prints in de snow a-goin' away from de house an' almost covered up now! She done gone! Now don't dat beat eberything? Now she'll be froze to death, 'less I goes out in de storm to look for her; an' maybe she'll be froze anyway; for dere's no sartainty 'bout my findin' of her. Now aint dat a trial for any colored gentleman's narves! Well den, here goes! Wait for me here, ole 'omen, till I come back, and if I nebber comes, all I leabes is yourn, you know," sighed the old man, setting down the lantern and beginning to button up his great coat preparatory to braving the storm.
But at this moment a figure came rushing through the snow towards the kitchen door.