Bill’s teeth glittered in a grin of hate and fear.
“God! It’s murder to kill a man with his hands up!” he shrieked.
“It rests with you whether or not I shoot you,” replied Judah calmly. “I am going to give you one chance for life. It is a slim one, but more than you would give me.”
Bill eyed him with a venomous look of terror and distrust; but his manner had changed to fawning smoothness.
“Judah,” he began, “look a-here, I own I done you dirt mean, I do. I ask yer pardon—I couldn’t do more’n that ef you was a white man, could I? Well, sir, I know you’re a brave nigger, an’ I know, too, it’s nat’ral for you to lay it up agin me, fer I done yer dirt an’ no mistake. But I had to; ef I’d showed you quarter, every nigger on the plantation ’d been hard to handle. It was necessary discipline, boy; nothin’ particular agin you.”
Bill’s beady black eyes never left the Negro’s face as he watched for a sign of wavering in the calm smile.
“Look a-here, I can tell you a heap of things ’d be worth more’n my life to the gal, an’ Titus couldn’t blame me for givin’ the scheme away; what’s money to life? It’s worth a fortune to you to know what I can tell you this minute; only let me out of this, Jude.”
But Judah knew his man. Not for one instant did Thomson deceive him. He judged it a righteous duty to condemn him to death.
“You stole Winona’s liberty and mine. I know what your promises are worth. Do you think I would listen to a proposition coming from you, you infernal scoundrel? Get ready. I’ve sworn to kill you and I intend to keep my oath. When I count three jump backwards or I put a bullet into your miserable carcass. If you are alive when you strike the river, you can swim ashore; it’s one chance in ten. Choose.”
Bill grew white; his eyes gleamed like those of a trapped rat, but he seemed to realize that it was useless to plead for mercy at the hands of the calm, smiling Negro before him.