Dicey shook her head knowingly, and stood up.
"Come on back to bed, honey, yer gwine ketch yer death ob col' standin' dar in de night ar. Co'se yer cyant go out ter-night."
Natalia tossed the hair out of her eyes and faced Dicey angrily.
"If you won't take me, I'll get Zebby to. I know he'll do it."
"I knows whut I'se gwine do." Dicey walked to the door and turned the key in the lock, removed it and placed it in her apron pocket. "Now you'se got ter be managed. I'se gwine put yer in dat bed and you'se got ter stay dar." She ended by turning towards Natalia and stopping suddenly.
It was the first time the child had ever been thwarted by the old slave, and seeing the wrath on her face that she had never seen there before, she at first trembled a little, and then suddenly flared into a passionate anger. It was then that Dicey stopped and stared at her.
"Don't you come near me, Mammy. Don't you try to put me in bed. I won't go—I won't—I won't." She stamped her foot in rage. "And you'll be very sorry you did me this way when I go away and leave you—you'll be mighty sorry!"
Then came the storm of tears and Dicey had her in her soothing embrace once more.
"You won't have to tell anybody, Mammy," came the words between sobs. "Not a soul will know. You get Zebby to hook up the chaise and take me into town. We can go to Aunt Maria's and she'll tell us where he is. You see we could do it! Oh, you will, Mammy, you will—won't you?"
Natalia was skipping about the floor in wild delight, for already she had seen the glimmer of consent in Dicey's eyes.