“Now, at that time there was a sort of closet or something near where the chimney juts out here. The man named Abe had nailed some planks across from the wall to the edge of the chimney, and in between the wall and the planks there was room enough for a man to stand up, or to lie down, if he lay on his side.
“After a while, when everything was quiet, the Son of Ben Ali clambered down the wall, but when he touched the floor he stumbled and fell over, groaning. The man named Abe was scared nearly to death, but it was nothing. I had been running hard, and I was stiff and sore. The Son of Ben Ali had been running hard, and he was stiff and sore. Besides, he had been lying on the planks in the loft in a cramped position, not daring to move, for fear he would be discovered, and this made the matter worse. But it was nothing, after all. The Son of Ben Ali raised himself, laughing, and limped into the closet.
“But he didn’t stay there long. He came out to stretch himself. This made the man named Abe uneasy, and then he became angry. But the Son of Ben Ali simply laughed at him. This made him still angrier, and he threatened to go to the white folk’s house—that’s what he called it—and tell them that a runaway negro had taken possession of his cabin. The man named Abe started out. I don’t know whether he would have gone if he had been let alone, but he was not let alone. The Son of Ben Ali seized him by the shoulders and jammed him down on his stool, and then stood over him. The man named Abe would have cried out, but the Son of Ben Ali placed his hand softly on the man’s mouth and spoke one word—‘Listen!’—but that was enough.
“The man named Abe quieted down at once. But he said he would be killed if the white people caught him hiding a runaway. At this, the Son of Ben Ali called me to him and said:—
“‘Go out and stand by the door there. When you hear any one coming, say so.’
“I limped out from under the bed the best I could, for I was stiff, and scratched at the door and asked to be let out. The man named Abe opened the door, and watched to see what I would do. I only went a few steps away from the door, and then sat down, turning my head in all directions and listening. When the man named Abe shut the door again, I went and sat on the steps. I heard the man ask the Son of Ben Ali if he was a witch, and the reply he got was that the Son of Ben Ali was witch enough not to be caught any more. Then the man named Abe wanted to know if the Son of Ben Ali was angry with him, and the answer he got was that the Son of Ben Ali was the friend of those who were his friends and was never angry with them.
“Well, they had their supper in there, for I could hear them chewing, and presently the man named Abe came to the door and gave me mine, the biggest half of a warm hoe-cake, and I don’t know that plain bread ever tasted better than it did right then.
“Not long after that I heard some one laughing and talking in the direction of the big house up yonder, and the sounds seemed to get nearer. I gave the warning, and I soon heard the Son of Ben Ali go into the closet. The voices came nearer, and I soon knew one for the Young Mistress, whom I had heard talking in the woods that very morning. The other seemed to be the voice of a child, but I heard thump—thump—thump—as of some one walking with a heavy cane. So I said to myself the Master is with them. But, no; it was the little boy, who walked with the crutches, as I soon saw. He was pleading with his sister to come to the house of the man named Abe and get him to tell a tale, such as he used to tell her when she was a little girl. She said she was too large for that, but the Little Master declared that he was small enough for both of them. And so they came to the door.
“The Young Mistress called out ‘Uncle Abe!’ and the man named Abe opened the door. He looked out cautiously, and with a frown on his face, as I could see; but when he found who it was he danced around, and opened the door as nimbly as if he had been a young man. I try to be polite myself, and sometimes I shake my tail pretty hard, but the man named Abe shook his whole body, he was so polite, and bowed nearly to the floor. And it wasn’t put on, neither, as I found out afterward, for every one on the place loved the Young Mistress and Little Master. These two went in, and I followed them. I wanted to see what would happen.
“After a while, in bustling around, one of them stepped on my foot. Of course this hurt my feelings, and I cried out.