"Great Lord!" cried the Captain, letting out his choicest string of oaths. "Here I've been wasting a whole night expecting to see something. And what d' I get? Two men standing up and looking at each other over a whiff of smoke." Throwing a contemptuous look at Jervais' companions, he grabbed Sargent about the shoulders and, squeezing him hard, led him a good distance from the others. Then it was that the young lawyer, passing through the valley of shadows, and just beginning to see hope for the future, looked up at the old, wrinkled face bending close beside him, and found the sparkling grey eyes overflowing with merriment.
"Sonny," he said, giving Sargent a hearty squeeze and attempting to hold his laughter no longer. "You needn't been so serious about this thing. There wasn't a damn bullet in a one of them pistols!"
CHAPTER IX
A PROMISE FOR THE FUTURE
That night, when the boys had gone to sleep, Dicey came to the side of Natalia's bed, and sat down, holding the little girl's hand close to her tear-stained face. They were to be separated the next day, for the first time in their companionship of twelve years. The morrow's boat was to take Natalia on her long journey to the North.
"Mammy, he is not coming out here any more," Natalia said, her wide open eyes staring into the old slave's face.
"No,—honey-chile,—he ain' comin' heah no mo'."
"And I won't see him to-morrow before I go?"
"No, sugar—ole Miss ain' gwine let him speak ter yer. She done said dat pintedly, so dar ain' no use stedyin' 'bout hit no mo'."
Natalia glanced at the clock, its face shining bright in the light of a solitary candle. The hands were at nine.