As he said this in a monotonous tone, Dido looked across the tree-tops to where the red roofs of "Ashantee" showed themselves against a blue July sky. She shook her fist at the distant house, and again addressed herself imperiously to Battersea, commanding:
"Tell ole Dido ob de debble-stick."
"It is green, with a handle of gold, and blue stones set into the gold."
Dido bent forward and touched the tramp on his temples.
"See widin dat stick," she muttered, eagerly. "I wish to see."
"There is a bag in the handle," repeated Battersea, with an effort. "Under the bag a long needle;" then after a pause, "the needle is hollow."
"Is dere poison in de bag, white man?"
"No, the poison is dried up."
"Is dere poison in de hollow ob de needle?"
"No," said Battersea again. "The poison is dried up."