The door of the mansion was bolted and barred; but, rapping for admission, I soon heard the Colonel's voice asking, 'Who is there?' Giving a satisfactory answer, I was admitted. Explaining that he supposed I had retired to my room, he led the way to the library.
That apartment was much more elegantly furnished than the drawing-rooms. Three of its sides were lined with books, and on the centre-table, papers, pamphlets, and manuscripts were scattered in promiscuous confusion. In an armchair near the fire, Madam P—— was seated, reading. The Colonel's manner was as composed as if nothing had disturbed the usual routine of the plantation; no trace of the recent terrible excitement was visible; in fact, had I not been a witness to the late tragedy, I should have thought it incredible that he, within two hours, had been an actor in a scene which had cost a human being his life.
'Where in creation have you been, my dear fellow?' he asked, as we took our seats.
'At old Lucy's cabin, with Scip,' I replied.
'Indeed. I supposed the darky had gone.'
'No, he doesn't go till the morning.'
'I told you he wouldn't, David,' said Madam P——; 'now, send for him,—do make friends with him before he goes.'
'No, Alice, it won't do. I bear him no ill-will, but it won't do. It would be all over the plantation in an hour.'
'No matter for that; our people would like you the better for it.'
'No, no. I can't do it. I mean him no harm, but I can't do that.'