“Why, what does this mean?” ejaculated Mr. Owen, rising and going to the door. “What is the matter, Sukey?” he asked as he threw it open.
CHAPTER IV
THE SEARCH
“Like bloodhounds now they search me out,—
Hark, to the whistle and the shout!
If farther through the wilds I go,
I only fall upon the foe;
I’ll couch me here till evening gray,
Then darkling try my dangerous way.”
—Sir Walter Scott.
Sukey was standing before the entrance valiantly trying to keep the half dozen men who stood in the hall from entering. She turned toward her master with relief.
“Dese men dey sayin’ dat dere’s a Bristisher ’roun’ heah,” she explained. “Dey would come in. I dun my bes’ ter keep dem from ’sturbin’ yer.”
“That is all right, Sukey,” he said kindly. “Perhaps these friends have good reason for coming.”