“Yass, seh! Yass, seh!” said the porter, and, dropping the grip where he stood, he vanished.
Old Mose dusted the stool with his sleeve, and proffered it.
“Set down, seh!” with another bow. “Josh won’ be long.”
Croyden shook his head.
“I’ll lie here,” he answered, stretching himself out on the grass. “You were Colonel Duval’s body-servant, you say.”
“Yass, seh! from de time I wuz so ’igh. I don’ ’member when I warn’ he body-survent. I follows ’im all th’oo de war, seh, an’ I wus wid ’im when he died.” Tears were in the darky’s eyes. “Hit’s purty nigh time ole Mose gwine too.” 43
“And when he died, you stayed and looked after the old place. That was the right thing to do,” said Croyden. “Didn’t Colonel Duval have any children?”
“No, seh. De Cun’l nuvver married, cuz Miss Penelope——”
He caught himself. “I toles yo ’bout hit some time, seh, mebbe!” he ended cautiously—talking about family matters with strangers was not to be considered.
“I should like to hear some time,” said Croyden, not seeming to notice the darky’s reticence. “When did the Colonel die?”