“In the woods,” answered Herbert.
“Moshesh!” exclaimed the Jew-justice, raising his spectacles in surprise. “In the woods, you shay?”
“In the woods,” re-affirmed the young man; “under a tree; and a very good bed I found it,” he added, jocosely.
“And did your uncle know of thish?”
“I suppose my uncle knew nothing about it, and as little did he care,” replied Herbert, with a reckless indifference as to what answer he gave.
The bitter emphasis on the last words, with the tone in which they were delivered, did not escape the observation of Jessuron. A suspicion had arisen in his mind, that there was something amiss in the relationship between the young man and his uncle; to the comprehension of which the answer of the former, aided by a knowledge of the character and affairs of the latter, was gradually giving him a clue. A secret joy sparkled in his sunken eyes, as he listened to the last answer given.
All at once he discontinued the direct examination of the prisoner; and, signing to Ravener and the constable to come near, he became engaged with these two worthies in a whispering conversation.
What passed between the trio, the young Englishman could not tell—nor indeed any one else who chanced to be present. The result, however, was to Herbert as pleasant as unexpected.
When Jessuron again returned to address him, a complete change appeared to have taken place in his manner; and, instead of the frowning Justice, Herbert now saw before him a man who appeared more in the character of a friendly protector—bland, smiling, almost obsequious!
“Mashter Vochan,” said he—rising from his magisterial seat, and extending his hand to the prisoner—“you will excushe the rough treatment you hash had from theshe people. It ish a great crime in thish country—helping a runaway shlave to eshcape; but as you hash joosh landed, and cannot be ekshpected to know our shtatutes, the law deals mershifully with a firsht offence. Besides, in thish instance, the runaway—who ish one of my own shlaves—did not eshcape. He ish in the hands of the Maroons, and will soon be brought in. The punishment I inflict upon you—and I shall inshist upon its being carried out—ish, that you eats your dinner with me, and—I think that ish punishment enough. Mishter Ravener,” added he, calling to his overseer, and at the same time, pointing to Quaco, “take that good fellow and see that he ish cared for. Now, Mashter Vochan! pleashe to step inside, and allow me to introshuce you to my daughter Shoodith.”