"Hallo, dar!" said Scip to the driver, as we came nearly abreast of the carriage. "Am you Cunnel J——'s man?"
"Yas, I is dat," replied the darky.
At this moment a woolly head, which I recognized at once as that of the Colonel's man "Jim," was thrust from the window of the vehicle.
"Hallo, Jim," I said. "How do you do? I'm glad to see you."
"Lor bress me, Massa K——, am dat you?" exclaimed the astonished negro, hastily opening the door, and coming to me. "Whar did you cum from? I'se mighty glad to see you;" at the same time giving my hand a hearty shaking. I must here say, in justice to the reputation of South Carolina, that no respectable Carolinian refuses to shake hands with a black man, unless—the black happens to be free.
"I thought I wouldn't wait for you," I replied. "But how did you expect to get on? the 'runs' have swollen into rivers."
"We got a 'flat' made for dis one—it's down by dis time—de oders we tought we'd get ober sumhow."
"Jim, this is Scip," I said, seeing the darkies took no notice of each other.
"How d'ye do, Scipio?" said Jim, extending his hand to him. A look of singular intelligence passed over the faces of the two negroes as their hands met; it vanished in an instant, and was so slight that none but a close observer would have detected it, but some words that Scip had previously let drop had put me on the alert, and I felt sure it had a hidden significance.
"Wont you get into de carriage, massa?" inquired Jim.