"They will explain themselves. Don't forget."
The day wore on, and everything went on in its usual manner, until just before Mr. Delancey's dinner hour, when, to the surprise of all, the loud report of a pistol was heard, coming from the little court, just at the back part of the store. As its echo died away, all those clerks not at the moment engaged, rushed to the long windows, and sprang through into the court, to learn what the matter was. Guly was the first on the spot, and to his horror and
amazement, found Jeff lying on the ground, weltering in his blood, but still showing signs of life.
"Jeff!" he exclaimed, bending over him, "what have you done!"
"Oh—Massa—Guly"—gasped the negro, turning his dimming eyes to the boy's face, "you'se come with your blue eyes to light me to Heaven. Couldn't lib longer, and hab de master dat I lubbed tink me a robber. I'se tried allus to be a good nigger, an' hope's I'll go to de good place."
"God grant it."
"Young Massa, is dis death?"
"'Tis coming, Jeff."
"Let me pray; I only knows one prayer, an' it's so short."
"Say it."