By this time the old negro had opened the door.
“Lawsey, Moster Had! It is sho’ ’nough you. How come yo’ ter git in such er fix?”
“I can’t stop to tell you that, Sam.” Then he drew nearer and whispered in the old man’s ear: “I’m going to headquarters. I’ve got dispatches that must reach General Washington.”
With this the old slave’s interest seemed to awaken.
“Good! Ah’ll come right erlong, Moster Had—Ah’ll come right erlong.”
Sam went hurriedly down to the boat and unfastened the chain. Then, both putting their shoulders to the gunwale, they shoved the craft down the sloping beach into the water. Sam placed a wide plank from the shore, and Hadley led Black Molly across and urged her into the boat.
Just as they were ready to shove off and the young courier was congratulating himself on the safety of his project, there came a startling interruption. A figure ran down to the landing from the direction of the cabin, and, finding the boat already afloat, the newcomer leaped aboard before Sam and Hadley could push away.
“You black limb! I’ve caught you this time. What are you gettin’ the boat out for at this time o’ night?” demanded a wrathful voice which to Hadley seemed familiar.
Black Sam, who stood beside him, and whom he could feel begin to shake, whispered in his ear: “Dat ar’s Moster Lon—whadjer goin’ ter do?”