“Show us what you mean,” cried Murray, and he tried to draw the black forward; but the poor fellow dropped upon his knees, resisting with all his might, and, with eyes starting and rolling and teeth chattering, he kept on pointing downward, darting his index finger at the floor.
“I beg pardon, sir,” said Tom May gruffly. “I think I know what he means.”
“What is it, then?” cried Murray.
“It’s snakes, sir, same as I heered up-stairs.”
“Perhaps so,” said the lieutenant, “so take care; some of these serpents creep into the houses here, and they are very poisonous. Mind what you are about, Mr Murray. Let the black pull the rug away. Mr Roberts, a couple of your men here with cutlasses. Be smart, my lads, and strike the moment the brute is uncovered.”
“Ay, ay, sir!” came in a chorus from the guard; but every Jack stood fast, waiting for his fellows to volunteer.
“Pull the rug away, Caesar,” said Murray, as soon as the men had been ordered to advance, which they did after making a great show of spitting in their hands to get a good grip of the cutlasses they drew.
“No, no, no, massa. Caesar ’fraid, sah. Massa Huggin kill poor Caesar dead, for show.”
“Is there a snake there, darkie?” said the lieutenant impatiently.
“No, massa. No, massa,” panted the poor fellow. “Caesar brave boy; no frighten snake. Massa Huggin kill um for show.”