"It is unfortunate that your father is gone. He has been seen with a negro trader. That trader and he disappear the same evening. The trader lives about Delaware, too, Miss Vesty."
Vesta's countenance fell, as she thought of the suspicion that might attach to her father. The great old trees around Teackle Hall seemed moaning together in the air, as if to say, "Ancestors, this is strange to hear!"
"Who told you, Jack Wonnell," spoke the bay sailor, "that Judge Custis was to be sold out?"
"I won't tell you, Jimmy."
"I told him," Roxy cried, after an instant's hesitation, while Jimmy Phœbus was grinding the stiff bell-crown hat down on Wonnell's suffocating muzzle. "I did think we was all going to be sold, and had nobody to pity me but that poor white man, and I told him as a friend."
"And I never told anybody in the world but Levin Dennis yisterday," Jack cried out, when he was able to get his breath.
"Whar did you go, Jack, wid the long man and Levin all day yisterday?" Samson asked.
"Yes, whar was you?" Jimmy Phœbus shouted, with one of his Greek paroxysms of temper on, as his dark skin and black-cherry eyes flamed volcanic. "Whar did you leave Ellenora's boy and that infernal soul-buyer? Speak, or I'll throttle you like this dog!"
"You let him alone, sir!" little Roxy cried, hotly, "he won't deceive anybody; he's going to tell all he knows."
"Let go, Jimmy," Samson said; "don't you see Miss Vesty heah?"