“A angel of destruction, carryin’ a flamin’ sword! Lemme git out’n this!” wailed another.
“’Twas Jeemes Hanks set fire to the straw stack! Not me! Not me!” from one who knelt and rocked himself back and forth.
“I ain’t teched a thing what don’t b’long to me!”
“I jes’ come along to see the fun! I ain’t nebber had no idee er harmin’ Miss Ellanlouise!”
“Me neither! Me neither!”
“Jeemes Hanks, He’s the one, good Gawd! He’s the one!”
James Hanks, goaded to desperation by the backslidings of his followers, turned on them in fury:
“You low down sneaks! Can’t you see that this ain’t no angel of the Lawd? This is one of them gals come to live in the ol’ tumble-down overseer’s house, jes’ a play actin’ to scare you. If’n we can’t down them we ain’t worth of the name of Loyal Af’cans. Come on, boys, an’ let’s finish ’em an’ thin we can git our loot. I ain’t afraid of them. A flamin’ sword ain’t in it with a gun.” He reached for his hip pocket.
Dr. Wright grabbed the angel of the Lord most unceremoniously and held her behind him. The kneeling and groveling mob was divided in its feelings as to whether Helen was or was not a celestial visitor, but they were one and all anxious to be through with the night’s work without bloodshed. This was an outcome they had not bargained for. To go to Grantly and get all the money that they ignorantly supposed the old ladies to possess, to steal the silver and whatever else they fancied and then to set fire to the ancient pile, thereby destroying all trace of their burglary, so that when the white folks came home from the count’s fine ball there would be naught to tell the tale, was a very different matter from this thing of having to get rid of two persons, perhaps kill them and then be found out.