“Down dar!” The negro trembled violently, and glanced at Nettleton.
“What do you mean?”
“He’s in de riber—killed dead, sure!”
A wild shriek rose upon the air as Miss Hayward fell back into the arms of Alibamo, insensible.
“By whom was he killed?”
“By massa Nettleton dar, sure. I he’rd across de riber, jis as plain as day.”
Nettleton started back in horror, his eyes extending widely, and his frame trembling. A general murmur of disbelief ran through the crowd.
“Did you see him do the deed?” asked the colonel.
“Golly, I couldn’t see much, it war so dark. But I hear massa cap’n say, ‘Oh, Nettleton, you kill me!’ Golly, see how massa Nettleton shake!”
“Where was this?”