"You will be careful not to touch him," said Mrs. Gray. "It is not your place to discipline any one."
"But, missus, you don't know that niggah," began Morris.
"We know that he was brave enough to send those men to our rescue, while you were too badly frightened to do anything to help us," said Marcy.
"I couldn't be two places," protested Morris. "I was in the stable looking out for the hosses. There's whar I belong."
"Did you see them when they took their prisoners away? And was that poor fellow who was knocked down by the chandelier very badly injured?" inquired Mrs. Gray.
"Pore fellow!" repeated the coachman. "No, he wasn't bad hurt. They jest chuck him in the hoss trough and he come back to his right mind mighty quick."
"I hope they did not abuse him?"
"No, missus; dey didn't 'buse him at all. They jest say 'Come along here! We fix you.' And that's all they done."
"And you did not see what became of him and the others?"
Morris replied that he watched the rescuers and their prisoners from the stable door until they disappeared in the darkness, and that was all he knew about them. And we may add that that was all any one in that house ever knew about them. Although Marcy Gray afterward became acquainted with all the men who had taken an active part in this night's work, and daily mingled with them, he never learned what they did with their captives. Indeed he never inquired, for he was afraid that he might hear something unpleasant if he did.