"Yas, suh; though yo' clothes is so covered with mud I dess can't tell 'xactly what you are."
"What would you say if I was?"
"I want to know whether yo' is or yo' isn't befo' I answers dat ar question."
"All right," laughed Noel, who was convinced now that in no event should he have to fear his colored companion.
The house had been safely passed and the negro apparently was inoffensive and harmless. Noel was still watchful for the appearance of any of Stuart's men, for whom he entertained a feeling of most wholesome respect.
"What's your name?" he asked again as he turned to his companion.
"Yas, suh! Yas, suh!" replied the negro. "My name's Nick."
"Are you related to 'Nicodemus, a slave, of African birth,' and did you call your friends to 'meet you down by the swamp and wake you up for the great jubilee'?" The young soldier was speaking in apparent seriousness and his companion stopped abruptly and stared at the man who had asked him these strange questions.
"No, suh," he said. "I never kno' nuthin' 'bout no swamp. Wha's dat yo' all is tellin' 'bout anyway?"
In a low voice Noel began to sing the song which was familiar even in his far-away home on the St. Lawrence,—