Before Winston could respond, there was an eruption of shouts and curses from the direction of the mill. They all turned to watch as Benjamin Briggs shoved through the doorway, pointing at Atiba.
"Get that one out here. I warrant he can make them understand." The sweltering room seemed frozen in time, except for Briggs, now motioning at Serina. "Tell him to come out here." He revolved to Winston. "I've a mind to flog all of them."
"What's wrong?"
"The damned mill. I doubled the size of the bundles, the very thing I should’ve done in the first place, but now the oxen can't turn it properly. I want to try hooking both oxen to one of the sweeps and a pair of Africans on the other. I've harnessed them up, but I can't get them to move." He motioned again for Atiba to accompany him. "This one's got more wit than all the rest together. Maybe I can show him what I want."
Serina gestured toward Atiba, who followed Briggs out the door, into the fresh night air. Katherine stared after him for a moment, then turned back. Winston was speaking to Serina again in Portuguese, but too rapidly to follow.
"Will you tell me one thing more?"
"As you wish, senhor." She did not look up from the cauldron.
"What was going on last night? With the drums?"
She hesitated slightly. "I don't know what you mean."
Winston was towering over her now. "I think you know very well what I mean, senhora. Now tell me, damn it. What were they saying?"