"My ole—If ebber I heard de like! What de name o' sense he doin' here? An' same time, what you doin' here yourself, Marse Ishmael?"
"Katie, it is a long story. And I fancy we both, you and I, have much to tell. Will you come with me to my hotel?"
"Will I come, Marse Ishmael? Why wouldn't I come den? Sure I'll come. I don't mean to do nuffin else; nor likewise let go of you, nor lose sight of you, de longest day as eber I lib, please my 'Vine Marster, don't I; so dere!" replied the old creature, tightening her clasp upon Ishmael's coat.
"Oh, Katie, Katie, but that would be too much of a good thing," said
Ishmael, smiling.
"Dey done sent me arter pines. Fetch pines! I don't care as ebber I see a pine again as long as ebber I lib. I gwine to my own ole—, De Lor'! but de thought o' he being here!" cried Katie, breaking off in the middle of her speech again to give vent to her amazement.
"Now, Katie, you must walk by my side; but, really, you must let go my coat," said Ishmael kindly, but authoritatively.
"If I do, you promise me not to run away?" said Katie half pleadingly and half threateningly.
"Of course I do."
"Nor likewise wake me up to find it all a dream?"
"Certainly not, Katie."