While we were seated at the meal, the negro Junius hastily entered the room, and in an excited manner exclaimed:
'O massa, massa! you muss cum ter de cabin—Jim hab draw'd his knife, and he swar he'll kill de fuss un dat touch him!'
'He does, does he!' said his master, springing from his seat, and abruptly leaving the apartment.
Remembering the fierce burst of passion I had seen in the negro, and fearing there was danger a-foot, I rose to follow, saying as I did so:
'Madam, can not you prevent this?'
'I can not, sir; I have already done all I can. Go and try to pacify the Colonel. Jim will die before he'll be whipped.'
Jim was standing at the farther end of the old cabin, with his back to the wall, and the large spring-knife in his hand. Some half-dozen negroes were in the centre of the room, apparently cowed by his fierce and desperate looks, and his master stood within a few feet of him.
'I tell you, Cunnel,' cried the negro, as I entered, 'you touch me at your peril.'
'You d—d nigger, do you dare to speak so to me?' said his master, taking a step toward him.
The knife rose in the air, and the black, in a cool, sneering tone, replied: 'Say your prayers 'fore you come ony nigher, for, so help me God, you're a dead man!'