“Come into the house as quick as ye kin, Luke! Melville’s doors is both locked fast, an’ he’s been a-hollerin’ like all possessed. Now he’s stopped; but say—don’t you smell nothin’ kinder queer?”
Luke sniffed, and made up such a horrid face in doing so that Christina, who had appeared behind Mrs. Perkins, laughed. “What is the matter, Rosetta? Octave made me come and see. She says somebody has been holloaing this ever so long, but I thought it was somebody out in the field.”
“Then ain’t you ner Octavy in Melville’s room?”
“Why, no! Abraham carried Octave out to the hammock after dinner, and I have been with her.”
“Where’s Content? An’ Pauly?”
“Gone to the post-office in the pony-cart.”
“Little Fritzy?”
“I don’t know, I’m sure,” answered poor Christina, her gentle face growing very pale and terrified.
“Then there’s sunthin’ turrible to pay! Smash that door open, Luke!”
“Smash the door? I dassent!”