“Prisoners been quiet?” whispered the settler to the sentry.
“Iss, sah, berry quiet; all fass asleep;” and the man let his musket fall down upon the ground with an ominous thud as, in obedience to an order, he unlocked the shed-door and lowered the huge bar before drawing it open.
“Now then,” muttered the overseer, “how long is he going to be with that lanthorn? Here, in with them, boys; but don’t loose your hold till I tell you.”
Nic and Pete were hurried on; and, as soon as they were inside, the settler and his lieutenant stood in the doorway, pistol in hand, while Nic’s face was involuntarily turned in the direction of the corner where Humpy Dee’s bunk lay, in the full expectation of hearing some bantering sneer.
But the man made no sign, and directly after the pad, pad of Samson’s feet was heard, and a faint light threw up the figures of those at the doorway. Then Samson’s big black face appeared, lit up by the lanthorns he swung, one in each hand.
“I take in de light, sah, and den go fetch de irons?”
“Yes; look sharp,” cried Saunders.
He made way for the black to pass, and the man raised one of the lanthorns to hang it upon a hook. He did not do this, but raised the other lanthorn and hurriedly took a few steps in the direction of the bunks, to begin shouting directly:
“Hyah!” he cried, “whar dem oder white fellow? You, Zerk, what you go and done wid de oder man?”
“What!” roared the settler and the overseer in a breath as they rushed forward, pistol in hand.