“Yes, yes; but what—what is it that you have to tell me?” demanded Hereward, becoming more impressed by the words and manner of the woman.
His excitement alarmed the poor creature, who pulled herself up suddenly, saying:
“Hole on now, Adah Mungummerry! Hole on, ole lady! Yer’s a rushin’ ob it on too rapid on to a sick man. Hole up, now!” she said, talking to herself, as is the habit of the extremely aged.
“Tell me at once what you have to tell,” said Hereward, with a sudden terrible suspicion that her communication might concern the murder of his young wife.
“Well, dear young marster, but yer mus’ have patience and ’pose yerse’f, sah! ’Deed yer mus’, young marse, or yer’ll make yerse’f wuss, an’ wot would Mrs. Jab an’ de udders say to me ef I made yer wuss? I’s gwine to tell yer, young marse, w’ich I come yere fo’ dat puppose; but I mus’ tell yer werry graduately—so as not to make yer no wuss. Well, now, le’s see—le’ me see, now. Le’ me be cautious. Sort o’ break de news little by little. Young marse, yer know dat mornin’ wot yer come to my cabin to ’quire ’bout Miss Lilif?”
“Yes,” breathed the young man, beginning to tremble with anxiety in his extreme weakness.
“Well, young marse, as I telled you dat mornin’ I ’peats now. She hadn’ been dere, nor likewise nigh de place dat bressed night, as w’y should she come, w’en—listen now, young marse! w’y should she come w’en it warn’t ne’sary; caze she had sent Nancy long ob dat po’ misfortunit young gal, to fetch me money, an’ close, an’ wittels, an’ drink, an’ ebbery singerly fing as heart could wish.”
“So you told me before,” said Hereward, impatiently.
“So I did, my dear young marse, an’ I ax yer pardon fer tellin’ ob yo’ ag’in; but I does it to make yer ax yerse’f w’y should Miss Lilif do such a unne’sary fing as to come to my cabin dat cole night for nuffin? No, young marse! She didn’ come to no cabin dat night.”
“But she started to go!” exclaimed Hereward, with a cry of anguish.