"And you?" said Pomp, quietly.
"I will take my chance with the others." And Penn in few words explained the occurrences of the night and morning.
Pomp shrugged his shoulders frowningly. The time was at hand when he and Cudjo could no longer enjoy in freedom their wild mountain life; even they must soon be drawn into the great deadly struggle. This he foresaw, and his soul was darkened for a moment.
"Cudjo! Shall we take this old man to our den?"
"No, no! Don't ye take nobody dar! on'y Massa Hapgood."
"But he is blind!" said Penn.
"Others will come after who are not blind," said Pomp, his brow still stern and thoughtful.
"My friends," interposed the old clergyman, mildly, "do nothing for me that will bring danger to yourselves, I entreat you!"
These unselfish words, spoken with serious and benignant aspect, touched the generous chords in Pomp's breast.
"Why should we blacks have anything to do with this quarrel?" he said with earnest feeling. "Your friends down there"—meaning Stackridge and his party—"are all slaveholders or pro-slavery men. Why should we care which side destroys the other?"