"Da's cause I was absint fro' home. An' massa he keeps indoors a good deal."
"And pray who is massa?" asked Nigel.
"Sar," said the negro, drawing up his square sturdy frame with a look of dignity; "fair-play is eberyt'ing wid me. You've ax me a heap o' questions. Now's my—turn. Whar you comes fro'?"
"From England," replied Nigel.
"An' whar you go to?"
"Well, you've posed me now, for I really don't know where I'm going to. In fact that is the very thing I have been trying to find out all day, so if you'll help me I'll be much obliged."
Here Nigel explained his position and difficulties, and it was quite obvious, judging from the glittering eyes and mobile mouth, that he poured his tale into peculiarly sympathetic ears. When he had finished, the negro stood for a considerable time gazing in meditative silence at the sky.
"Yes," he said at last, as if communing with himself, "I t'ink—I ain't quite sure, but I t'ink—I may ventur'."
"Whatever it is you are thinking about," remarked Nigel, "you may venture to say anything you like to me."
The negro, who, although comparatively short of stature, was herculean in build, looked at the youth with an amused expression.