“Hold your tongue then, and mind what I say.”
“Yes, massa,” whined the darkey, in the most abject tones.
“Now come with me, Blackee, and if you open your mouth, one of these pills shall go down your throat.”
Tom flourished his pistol before the negro, and led the way to the window by which he had entered the house. Passing out upon the veranda, he cautiously conducted the terrified servant to the road; and when they had gone a short distance, he halted.
“Now, Blackee, what town is this?” demanded Tom.
“Leeds Manor, sar,” replied the trembling negro.
“How far is it to the Shenandoah River?”
“Only two or tree miles, massa. Now let dis chile go home again.”
“Not yet.”
“Hab mercy on dis nigger dis time, and sabe him.”