“Ma frien’s,” said he, in an affectionate tone, “you hab had de fatigue ob a long walk troo de darkness ob de night. A hab got hya a leetle drop ob someting dat’s berry good fo’ keep de cold out ob you. ’Pose we all take a wet from dis bottle?”
To this proposition there was a general assent, expressed in varied phraseology. There was no teetotaller in that crowd of worthies.
Chakra had not thought of providing himself with either drinking-cup or calabash; but the want was scarcely felt. The robbers each in turn refreshed himself directly from the neck of the bottle, until the rum ran out.
“Well, ole humpy,” said Adam, drawing Chakra aside, and speaking in that familiar phrase that betokened a thickness of thieves between them. “I suppose the chance you spoke ’bout hab come round at las’?”
“Da’s a fack, brodder Adam. It hab come now.”
“De great buckra gone from home?”
“He gone from home, and gone to home, ha! ha!”
“Come, dat’s a riddle. What you mean by gone to home?”
“To ’im long home. Da’s wha’ I mean.”
“Ha!” exclaimed Adam; “you don’t say the Cussos—”