"It means that there is some secret understanding between you."
"I toled you, massa," he replied, relapsing into his usual manner, "dat de blacks am all Freemasons. I gabe Jim de grip, and he knowd me. He'd ha knowd my name ef you hadn't toled him."
"Why would he have known your name?"
"'Cause I gabe de grip, dat tole him."
"Why did he call you Scipio? I called you Scip."
"Oh! de darkies all do dat. Nobody but de white folks call me Scip. I can't say no more, massa; I shud break de oath ef I did!"
"You have said enough to satisfy me that there is a secret league among the blacks, and that you are a leader in it. Now, I tell you, you'll get yourself into a scrape. I've taken a liking to you, Scip, and I should be very sorry to see you run yourself into danger."
"I tank you, massa, from de bottom ob my soul I tank you," he said, as the tears moistened his eyes. "You bery kind, massa; it do me good to talk wid you. But what am my life wuth? What am any slave's life wuth? Ef you war me you'd do like me!"
I could not deny it, and I made no reply.
The writer is aware that he is here making an important statement, and one that may be called in question by those persons who are accustomed to regard the Southern blacks as only reasoning brutes. The great mass of them are but a little above the brutes in their habits and instincts, but a large body are fully on a par, except in mere book-education, with their white masters.