“De horse is in de stable, suh.” The woman now rose as if to meet a climax, but her eyes were still on the fire.
“Did she go out walking?”
“Dis mawnin', suh.”
“This morning!” he repeated, slowly, wonderingly, “and has not come back yet?”
The woman began to tremble, and her eyes, shining and terrified, glanced furtively at her master.
“Where is Abram?”
“I dun'no', suh!” It was a gasping whisper.
The master gripped her shoulder, and with a maddened roar he cried her name —“Aggie!”
The woman sank down. Perhaps his grasp forced her down. “'Fo' Gawd!” she cried—“'fo Gawd, Mass Johnnie, I dun'no'!” holding up beseeching hands between herself and the awful glare of his eyes. “I'll tell you, suh, Mass Johnnie, I'll tell you!” crouching away from him. “Miss Nellie gimme out dinner en supper, den she put on she hat en gone to de ole chimbly en git some de brier what grow dey. Den she come back en tell Abram fuh git a bresh broom en sweep de ya'd. Lemme go, Mass Johnnie, please, suh, en I tell you better, suh. En Abram teck de hatchet en gone to'des de railroad fuh cut de bresh. 'Fo' Gawd, Mass Johnnie, it's de trute, suh! Den I tell Miss Nellie say de chicken is all git out de coop, en she say I muss ketch one fuh unner supper, suh; en I teck de dawg en gone in de fiel' fuh look fuh de chicken. En I see Miss Nellie put 'e glub en de brier on de step, en walk to'des de swamp, like 'e was goin' on de dam—'kase de water ent rise ober de dam den—en den I gone in de broom-grass en I run de chicken, en I ent ketch one tay I git clean ober to de woods. En when I come back de glub is layin' on de step, en de brier, des like Miss Nellie leff um—” She stopped, and her master straightened himself.
“Well,” he said, and his voice was strained and weak.