"She was red enough last night," answered aunt Jenny, "and I dare she was redder to-night. But I did not look at she, Nat. She was as red as blood last night 'bout this time."
"Ay, ay!" replied the man in a satisfied tone. Then, after a few minutes' silence, he added--"It has done raining, I think, and I will keep my word." He opened the door of the hut and looked out, and we could see gleams of the moon's light flitting over the Swamp as she struggled with the parting clouds. After gazing forth, for a minute or two, he returned, and approached the side of the table, saying,--
"I want you to give me some gunpowder, Sir Richard Conway. Mine is almost out."
"Not if it were to save my life, and all that is most dear to me," I answered. "Not one grain. I have given you food and shelter, but I will not give you the means to injure others."
"So be it," he replied, quietly. "God, mayhap, will give what you refuse." And calmly throwing the damp powder out of the pans of his guns, which had nothing but flint-locks, he primed the weapons again, and made his two companions bring their guns to him to undergo the same process. He then shook the flask at his ear, saying.--
"One more charge a-piece, and before that is out, we must find more. Now, boys, leave the cabin." They seemed to obey his lightest word; and when they were gone, he turned to me, saying--"I do not thank you, for I have as much right here as you have, as much right possibly to the food. But I will keep my word with you--I will keep my vow and more. You may sleep in quiet and peace. I shall be near, and no one shall molest you. Goodnight! We may meet again, when I shall not ask you for anything, or you refuse me." And he left the cabin, drawing to the door after him.
[CHAPTER XXXVII.]
"Now, dearest Bessy," I said, as soon as the man was gone, "you had better go into the other room and lie down to rest. Take Jenny with you, and I will remain here. That man will keep his word with us, depend upon it, and we shall see no more of them. But, as a precaution, I will push this table against the door, so that no one can take us by surprise."
"But you want sleep yourself, Richard," she said.
"I will get some in this corner, where it is dry," I answered. And, after some persuasion, she left me. Did I sleep? Oh, no. Not only the necessity of watching to guard against any intrusion kept me awake, but I had pleasant--nay, joyful--thoughts to dwell upon. I had discovered a secret, at least I thought so, upon which all my future happiness depended; and the happy reveries which followed might well occupy the two or three hours which remained of night. At the end of that time I could perceive a faint greyish light, glimmering through the chinks of the rude shutters; and I thought I might as well reconnoitre the ground without. I did not feel sure that the negroes had quitted the neighbourhood; and though I was inclined to believe that, after what had passed, they would offer us no violence, even if we encountered them; yet there is so much uncertainty and even treachery in the character of all barbarous people that ever I have seen, that I did not like to risk taking Bessy from the shelter of the hut till I was sure the man had gone. Partly removing the shutter, so as to leave perhaps half a hand's breadth for sight, I gazed out upon the wild and desolate scene presented by the Swamp, which looked more wild and desolate than ever, in that dull and unconfirmed light. All was still and quiet; and no moving object met my eye for a moment or two, till I saw the grass agitated slightly, not a couple of steps from the front of the hut. An instant after, a huge rattlesnake dragged himself sluggishly out of the long, dry grass, and crawled lazily towards a little knoll where the light fell most strongly. He seemed as if he were going out to take his morning's walk before his human enemies came abroad. The next instant I beheld one of those beautiful creatures called the king-snake, not half the size of the other, dash out in his checkered coat of jet-black and ivory-white, and dart at the great sluggish reptile. A desperate fight ensued. They coiled one with the other; they bit, they struck at each other with their heads; and I could hardly imagine that the great rattlesnake could not easily destroy his little antagonist. But I was mistaken. At the end of three minutes, the rattlesnake lay writhing on the ground in the agonies of death, and the king-snake, apparently uninjured, glided round and round several times, evidently calculating whether there was any possibility of swallowing him. That was impossible, however, from the relative size of the two creatures; and, contented with his victory, the brilliant little conqueror glided away.