"And so am I too," said Billy Byles; "but you don't care whether I starve or not, Miss Louisa."
"Oh, I have no fears about you," she answered. "You will never starve when there's anything to be got to eat. You had better make haste, however, and get down to the dining-room, for there is a famishing multitude round, which will leave not a morsel if you do not fight for it." What she said was literally true. The breakfast we got was very scanty, although Billy Byles did almost fight for it; but it served, at all events, to appease our hunger; and, what was perhaps of more consequence to me, to fill up some short space of time in which I had nothing else to do. Active exertion was indeed most necessary for me; but for the time, the opportunity was wanting. Zed had not yet returned to the town; and my horse was too tired, what with the morning's ride and the fatigue he had undergone during the preceding night and day, to go any farther without some repose. Nothing was to be done, then, but to wander about amongst the various groups in the town, to converse with those whom I knew, and to gather the scattered pieces of intelligence which were brought in from the country. All seemed agreed that the negroes had been completely dispersed the night before; that they had lost heart and hope; and that the insurrection was at an end. Several families who had taken refuge in the town moved back to their own dwellings, and some parties of the militia and volunteers marched out to return home. Still Colonel Halliday did not appear, and still no farther intelligence came of Bessy Davenport. Zed came in about two hours after Billy Byles and I reached the town, although the distance he had to walk was not more than four miles; but he assured me he had been making all sorts of inquiries, and I doubt not but what he said was true; for where is the negro who can pass another without stopping to ask him some question? After I had heard his excuse for the delay, I told him to get the horse he usually rode, ready for me, adding,--
"He must be rested by this time; and if Colonel Halliday doesn't come in in an hour, I shall go out to talk with this old woman, you mention, myself."
"You had better take me with you, massa," said Zed. "You'll not find out much by yourself. People will tell ole Zed when they won't tell you. But dere's dat free yellow man looking after you, I think, where you sleep last night." I looked round in the direction to which his eyes were turned, and saw good old Jacobus standing at a little distance, apparently waiting respectfully till my conversation with Zed was over.
"What is it, Jacobus?" I said, approaching him. "Have you anything to tell me?"
"Yes, sir," said the man, speaking in a low and mysterious tone. "There's a boy on the bridge wants to see you. He won't come into the town, for he seems afraid of the soldiers and the cannon; but he says he has a message for you." I turned hastily away, and walked towards the bridge. There were two or three people at the nearer end, but no one was upon it except a man driving a cart, and a young boy of perhaps thirteen years old, who was mounted upon the rail and swinging himself backwards and forwards over the water. He was as black as ebony; and I had no recollection of having seen him before. But he grinned from ear to car as I came up, evidently recognizing me; and, dismounting from his rail, he ran forward, saying,--
"Hercules say, mas'r, he got news already ob Miss Bessy. You don't leave de town till you hear from him again."
"And who is Hercules, my good friend?" I asked.
"Oh, our Hercules," answered the lad, with a look of wonder at my ignorance. "De great big nigger. You saw he dis mornin'."
"And has he got intelligence already?" I inquired. "He must have been very quick. It is hardly four hours since I saw him."