“Nelse, you have always been faithful. I trust you implicitly.”
“De Lawd, Missy, dat you kin do! I fight fur you en dat boy till I drap dead in my tracks!”
“I believe you would.”
“Yessum, cose I would. En I wants dat swo’de er Marse Charles to-night, Missy, en Charlie ter help me sharpen ’im on de grine stone.”
She took the sword from its place and handed it to Nelse. Was there just a shade of doubt in her heart as she saw his black hand close over its hilt as he drew it from the scabbard and felt its edge! If so she gave no sign.
Charlie turned the grindstone while Nelse proceeded to violate the laws of nations by putting a keen edge on the blade.
“Nebber seed no sense in dese dull swodes nohow!”
“Why ain’t they sharp, Nelse?”
“Doan know, honey. Marse Charles tell me de law doan ’low it, but dey sho hain’t no law now!”
“We’ll sharpen it, won’t we, Nelse?” whispered the boy as he turned faster.