The major, meanwhile, sought for and found the Bible in his portmanteau, and laid it on his pillow, so that he might find it there on awaking. For a long time he and Wilkins sat by the sick man’s side next morning, in the hope of his awaking, that they might bid him good-bye; but Tom did not rouse up, so, being unwilling to disturb him, they left without having the sad satisfaction of saying farewell.
When Tom Brown awoke, late in the day, he found Mafuta sitting at his feet with a broad grin on his dusky countenance.
“What are you laughing at, you rascal?” demanded Tom, somewhat sternly.
“Me laffin’ at you’s face!”
“Indeed, is it then so ridiculous?”
“Yis, oh yis, you’s bery ri’clous. Jist no thicker dan de edge ob hatchet.”
Tom smiled. “Well, I’m not fat, that’s certain; but I feel refreshed. D’you know, Mafuta, I think I shall get well after all.”
“Ho, yis,” said Mafuta, with a grin, nodding his woolly head violently, and displaying a magnificent double row of teeth; “you’s git well; you had slep an’ swet mos’ bootiful. Me wish de major see you now.”
“The major; is he gone?”
“Yis, hoed off dis morrownin.”