There he stopped, and looked up the river, as if expecting a boat to come down.
His back was toward me, as I stepped from my place of concealment.
"Jake!" I said, "look this way!"
He turned suddenly, and I now saw that my precaution had not been an idle one. But for having him in a sort of peninsula, myself occupying the isthmus, he would certainly have made good his escape. As it was, he seemed half determined on rushing past me, and reaching the house. He even cast his eyes toward the skiff to see if there was any chance of retreating in that direction.
"Jake!" I said, in a reassuring voice. "What's the matter with you? Don't you know me?"
"Goramity, mass'r!" he gasped out, at length recognizing the man he had so often guided through the swamps. "Wha—wha—wha's comed oba you? Lor' a mercy! You's all kibbered oba wif mud, like a drown rat ob de ribba? 'Splain you'seff, mass'r. What de ole debbil hab been a-happen to ye?"
"Never mind, my good fellow. I have no time for explanations. I want to see your master."
"Come on den. He arn't up yet; but he soon rouse out for you."
"No—no. I want to see him down here."
"Down hya!" echoed the darky, with a look of increased astonishment. "A'n't you comin' up to de big house, to get um washed, an' hab ya close bruss'd, an' eat ya breakfass?"