Frank made no reply, but was about to repeat the summons, when the door was thrown open, and an old, gray-headed negro woman appeared before him. Frank was about to make known his wants, when the woman, who had thrown the door wide open, to allow the light to fall upon him, exclaimed:
"Why, de Lor' A'mighty bress us! Come in, chile. What is you standin' out dar for? Come in, I tol' you." And Frank was seized by the arm and pulled into the cabin, and the door was closed carefully behind him.
"Stop dat 'ar fiddlin', ole man," continued the woman, addressing herself to an aged negro, who was seated in an easy chair in the chimney corner; "stop dat 'ar fiddlin', an' git up an' give young massa dat cheer."
"I don't wish to give you any trouble," said Frank. "I'm not the least bit tired; but I would like something to eat."
"No trouble 't all, chile," said the old woman. "Now, don't you go talkin' 'bout trouble, I knows who you is. Set down dar." And the old woman pointed to the chair which the man had vacated. "I'll give you somethin' to eat, right away. Pomp, ole man, git up an' cut some o' dat ham;" and the woman bustled about in a state of considerable excitement.
Frank hid his rifle behind a coat which hung in one corner of the cabin, and was about to take possession of the chair, when hasty steps were heard on the walk leading to the cabin.
"Gorry mighty!" exclaimed the old negro, in alarm, "dar come de oberseer. Git under the bed—quick, young massa. You'll be safe dar—quick."
Frank had hardly time to act upon this suggestion, when the door suddenly opened, and a shaggy head appeared.
"Haven't you had your supper yet, Pomp, you black rascal?" inquired the overseer, witnessing the preparations for cooking that were going on.
"I's only been home a few minutes, massa," answered Pomp.