Mr. Cosby, the miller, watched him awhile, and shook his head. “If Doc. don’t find them youngsters,” he said to himself, “he ’ll go plum deestracted.” But he said aloud:
“Well, Doc., you an’ the niggers must have a breathing-spell. We’ll go up to the house an’ see ef we can’t find somethin’ to eat in the cubberd, an’ arterwards, in the time you are restin’, we’ll talk about findin’ the youngsters. If there’s any needcessity, I’ll go with you. My son John can run the mill e’en about as good as I can. We’ll go up yan to ’Squire Ross’s an’ git a horse or two, an’ we’ll scour the country on both sides of the river. But you’ve got to have a snack of somethin’ to eat, an’ you’ve got to take a rest. Human natur’ can’t stand the strain.”
Torn as he was by grief and anxiety, Dr. Gaston knew this was good advice. He gratefully accepted John Cosby’s invitation to breakfast, as well as his offer to aid in the search for the lost children. After Doctor Gaston had eaten, he sat on the miller’s porch and tried to collect his thoughts so as to be able to form some plan of search. While the two men were talking, they heard Big Sam burst out laughing. He laughed so loud and heartily that Mr. Cosby grew angry, and went into the back yard to see what the fun was about. In his heart the miller thought the negroes were laughing at the food his wife had set before them, and he was properly indignant.
“Well, well,” said he, “what’s this I hear? Two high-fed niggers a-laughin’ beca’se their master’s little ones are lost and gone! And has it come to this? A purty pass, a mighty purty pass!” Both the negroes grew very serious at this.
“Mars’ John, we-all was des projickin’ wid one an’er. You know how niggers is w’en dey git nuff ter eat. Dey feel so good dey ’bleege ter holler.”
Mr. Cosby sighed, and turned away. “Well,” said he, “I hope niggers ’s got souls, but I know right p’int-blank that they ain’t got no hearts.”
Now, what was Big Sam laughing at?
He was laughing because he had found out where Lucien and Lillian were. How did he find out? In the simplest manner imaginable. Sandy Bill and Big Sam were sitting in Mr. Cosby’s back yard eating their breakfast, while little Willyum was eating his in the kitchen. It was the first time the two older negroes had had an opportunity of talking together since they started from home the day before.
“Sam,” said Sandy Bill, “did you see whar de chillun landed w’en we come ’long des a’ter sun-up dis mornin’?”
“Dat I didn’t,” said Sam, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand—“dat I didn’t, an’ ef I had I’d a hollered out ter Marster.”