[CHAPTER XII.]
HOW THE SPOILS OF VICTORY WERE INTENDED TO BE DIVIDED.
The chief men in the conspiracy were, by all consent, the fellow called Governor, of whom I have said so much before; Parson Jim, who, although a little in the background at first, had soon taken a foremost stand, and was, indeed, the first to propose murder; myself,—not that I was really very active or fiery in the matter, but because I had become prominent as the reader of the little book; Cesar, the blacksmith; and a fellow named Zip, or Scipio, who was the chief fiddler and banjo-player, and had been therefore in great favour with the family, until he lost it by some misconduct.
The parson having uttered the diabolical proposal I mentioned before, and seeing it well received, got up to make a speech to inflame our courage. There was in his oration a good deal of preaching, with a considerable sprinkling of scraps from the Bible, such as he had picked up in the course of his clerical career. What he chiefly harped on was that greatness of the negro nation spoken of before, and he discoursed so energetically of the great kings and generals, "the great Faroes and Cannibals," as he called them, who had distinguished the race in olden time, that all became ambitious to figure with similar dignity in story.
"What you speak faw, pawson?" said Governor, interrupting him, and looking round with the air of a lord; "I be king, hah? and hab my sarvants to wait on me!"
"What you say dah, Gub'nor?" cried Zip the fiddler, with equal spirit: "You be king, I be president."
"I be emp'ror, like dat ah nigga in High-ty!" said another.
"I be constable!" cried a fourth.
"You be cuss'! you no go for de best man!" cried Governor, in a heat: "I be constable myself, and I lick any nigga I like! Who say me no, hah? I smash him brain out—dem nigga!" Governor was a tyrant already, and all began to be more or less afraid of him. "I'll be de great man, and I shall hab my choice ob de women: what you say dat? I sall hab Missa Isabella faw my wife! Who say me no dah?"