“Seems as if he was dead,” said Julius, nervously.
“Tush, you fool! He’s no more dead than you or I.”
The hackman looked curious when the two men appeared with their sleeping burden, and Curtis felt that some explanation was required.
“The boy has a very painful disease,” he said, “and the doctor gave him a sleeping draught. He is going abroad for his health, and, under the circumstances, I think it best not to wake him up. Drive slowly and carefully to Pier No. —, as I don’t want the boy aroused if it can be helped.”
“All right, sir.”
“Julius, you may lock the door and come with me. I shall need your help to get him on board the ship.”
“All right, Massa Curtis.”
“And, mind you, don’t go to sleep in the carriage, you black rascal!” added Curtis, as he saw that the negro found it hard to keep his eyes open.
“All right, massa, I’ll keep awake. How am I to get home?”
“I will instruct the hackman to take you home.”