"Can't, mas'r," answered the man, with a low chuckle. "Got the rheumatiz very bad. My ole ooman out, and she got de key." That the man was lying there could be no doubt, and I determined to get into the house by some means, whatever might be the risk. I looked round to see if there was any window near enough to the ground for me to force it open, and then, for the first time, perceived that good aunt Jenny had disappeared. The next minute I heard the sound of steps, running down the stairs inside of the house, and a voice calling out,--
"D----n you! What you doing dere? Let dat door alone. I teach you to come in here, you ole debil!" But aunt Jenny was too quick for him. I heard the key turn in the lock, and, putting my shoulder to the door, I pushed it open, when a scene presented itself which would have made me laugh at any other time. My rheumatic friend from above, who had once been a tall and powerful man, had got aunt Jenny by the throat, and, with the expression of a demon, seemed bent upon strangling her, while she, with not the sweetest expression either, was belabouring his head and face with the large key which she had withdrawn from the door as soon as she had unlocked it. I soon settled the strife, however, by taking hold of the man's collar, and throwing him back to the farther end of the hall.
"Ha! ha!" cried aunt Jenny, laughing, yet panting from the struggle. "I know de way in. He not keep me here two months for nothing, arter missus die. Why, old Sambo, arn't you 'shamed of yourself?"
"I'se an old man," said the negro, again advancing towards me. "And I'se a nigger; but I can tell you, mas'r, dere will be udders here very soon, not so old, not so black as I be."
"Who may they be?" I asked quietly.
"Why, mas'r Thornton," answered the man; "and de udders who he left here, but who is just step out."
"As to Mr. Thornton and his son," I answered, "you are not likely to see them again for some time, as they are both in prison for what they have done to-day. As to any others that Mr. Thornton left, I will settle with them when they come in again."
"Prison!" ejaculated the man. "Prison! You don't say mas'r Thornton in prison?"
"Yes," I answered, assuming a very potential air; "and whether I send you to prison or not will a good deal depend upon your behaviour. Go, take my horse to the stable, and give him some oats and hay."
"Lor' bless 'ee, mas'r, I got no oats and hay," answered the man.