Chapter Twenty Four.
Pete’s Appeal.
“Aren’t you a bit hard on me, Master Nic?” said Pete, busy at his task in the plantation of hoeing the weeds, which seemed to take root and begin to grow again directly they were cut down.
He did not look up, but spoke with his head bent over his work, conscious as he was that they might be keenly watched.
“I have said nothing harsh to you,” said Nic coldly.
“No, zir; but I thought that when you got a bit better, zeeing as we’re both in the zame trouble, working together like them niggers, you might ha’ got a bit more friendly.”
“Friendly!” said Nic bitterly.
“I don’t mean reg’lar friendly, but ready to say a word to a man now and then, seeing how he wants to help you.”
“You can’t help me,” said Nic sadly. “I seem to be tied down to this weary life for always, and for no fault of mine—no fault of mine.”
“And it’s no fault o’ mine, Master Nic. You don’t believe it, but I couldn’t help coming that night; and I did try all I could to keep Humpy Dee from hurtin’ you.”