Just at this instant Clayton emerged to view, accompanied by another rider, who, on nearer view, turned out to be Frank Russel. At the same instant, the sound of violins and banjos was heard, and, to Anne's surprise, a gayly-dressed procession of servants and children began to file out from the grove, headed by Dulcimer and several of his associates, playing and singing.
"There," said Anne, "didn't I tell you so. There's the beginning of Dulcimer's operations."
The air was one of those inexpressibly odd ones whose sharp, metallic accuracy of rhythm seems to mark the delight which the negro race feel in that particular element of music. The words, as usual, amounted to very little. Nina and Anne could hear,—
"Oh, I see de mas'r a comin' up de track,
His horse's heels do clatter, with a clack, clack, clack!"
The idea conveyed in these lines being still further carried out by the regular clapping of hands at every accented note, while every voice joined in the chorus:—
"Sing, boys, sing; de mas'r is come!
Give three cheers for de good man at home!
Ho! he! ho! Hurra! hurra!"
Clayton acknowledged the compliment, as he came up, by bowing from his horse; and the procession arranged itself in a kind of lane, through which he and his companion rode up to the veranda.