Aaron helped Mr. Abercrombie to mount. "Good-night, Master!"
"Good-night, Aaron!"
The Arab watched the Gray Mare and her rider until the darkness hid them from view. And no wonder! He was the only man, living or dead, that the Son of Ben Ali had ever called "Master." Why? Aaron tried to make the matter clear to his own mind, and while he was doing his best to unravel the problem he heard buggy wheels rattle on the hilltop. The horse must have shied at something just then, for a harsh voice cried out, followed by the sound of a whip falling cruelly on the creature's back. The wheels rattled louder as the creature leaped frantically from under the whip. The harsh voice cried "Whoa!" three times, twice in anger, and the third time in mortal fear. And then Aaron knew that he had another adventure on his hands.
IX.
THE UPSETTING OF MR. GOSSETT.
If Aaron had known it was Mr. Gossett's voice he heard and Mr. Gossett's hand that brought the buggy whip down on the poor horse's back with such cruel energy, the probability is that he would have taken to his heels; and yet it is impossible to say with certainty. The Son of Ben Ali was such a curious compound that his actions depended entirely on the mood he chanced to be in. He was full of courage, and yet was terribly afraid at times. He was dignified and proud, and yet no stranger to humility. His whole nature resented the idea of serving as a slave, yet he would have asked nothing better than to be Little Crotchet's slave: and he was glad to call Mr. Abercrombie master. So that, after all, it may be that he would have stood his ground, knowing that the voice and hand were Mr. Gossett's when his ears told him, as they now did, that the horse, made furious by the cruel stroke of the whip, was running away, coming down the hill at breakneck speed.
Mr. Gossett had been on a fruitless errand. When his son George reached home that morning and told him that Mr. Jim Simmons's dogs had followed the trail to the river and there lost it, Mr. Gossett remarked that he was glad he did not go on a fool's errand, and he made various statements about Mr. Simmons and his dogs that were not at all polite. Later in the day, however (though the hour was still early), when Mr. Gossett was making the customary round of his plantation, he fell in with a negro who had been hunting for some stray sheep. The negro, after giving an account of his movements, made this further remark:—
"I sholy 'spected you'd be over yander wid Mr. Jim Simmons, Marster. His dogs done struck a track leadin' inter de swamp, an' dey sho went a callyhootin'."