Chapter Twenty Five.
Who Fired the Shot?
“Yellow Jake?” I repeated in the usual style of involuntary interrogative—of course without the slightest faith in my companion’s statement. “Saw Yellow Jake, you say?”
“Yes, Massr George,” replied the groom, getting a little over his fright: “sure as the sun, I see ’im—eytha ’im or ’im ghost.”
“Oh, nonsense! there are no ghosts: your eyes deceived you under the shadow of a tree. It must have been an illusion.”
“By Gor! Massr George,” rejoined the black with emphatic earnestness, “I swar I see ’im—’twant no daloosyun, I see—’twar eytha Yell’ Jake or ’im ghost.”
“Impossible!”
“Den, massr, ef’t be impossible, it am de troof. Sure as da gospel, I see Yell’ Jake; he fire at you from ahind tha gum tree. Den I fire at ’im. Sure, Massr George, you hear boaf de two shot?”
“True; I heard two shots, or fancied I did.”
“Gollys! massr, da wa’nt no fancy ’bout ’em. Whugh! no—da dam raskel he fire, sure. Lookee da, Massr George! What I say? Lookee da!”