“No doubt,” thought I, “he possesses the requisite knowledge—knows the antidote, and how to apply it. No doubt he is the very man. The doctor, as he says, may not understand how to treat me.”
I had no very great confidence that the doctor could cure me. I was only running to him as a sort of dernier ressort.
“This Gabriel—this snake-charmer, is the very man. How fortunate I should have met with him!”
After a moment’s hesitation—during the time these reflections were passing through my mind—I called out to the black—
“Lead on! I follow you!”
Whither did he intend to guide me? What was he going to do? Where was he to find an antidote? How was he to cure me?
To these questions, hurriedly put, I received no reply.
“You truss me, mass’ Edward; you foller me!” were all the words the black would utter as he strode off among the trees.
I had no choice but to follow him.
After proceeding several hundred yards through the cypress swamp, I saw some spots of sky in front of us. This indicated an opening in the woods, and for that I saw my guide was heading. I was not surprised on reaching this opening to find that it was the glade—again the fatal glade!