We lost no time in plunging our faces into them, arranging our hair, and making ourselves neat and comfortable.
“I say, we have fallen into pleasant quarters,” exclaimed Chaffey. “We owe it all to you, Tom. If you hadn’t paid attention to Miss Lucy, we should not have been here.”
“Belay the slack of that,” cried Tom. “Our host might overhear you, and he wouldn’t be pleased; nor would Miss Lucy herself.”
We were quickly ready; and just as we returned to the hall several black boys entered, each carrying a steaming dish, on which we fell to, when helped, with keen appetites. Two other gentlemen came in,—an overseer and a head clerk on the estate. We all laughed and talked at a great rate. The overseer, Mr Rabbitts, at the request of our host, sang a good song. The clerk followed with another. Then Miss Lucy got her guitar, and warbled very sweetly. Altogether we were merry as crickets.
At length our host remarked that we must be tired, and led us to our sleeping-room. We soon had our heads upon the pillows, with the mosquito curtains drawn close around us.
Though midshipmen are rightly supposed to sleep soundly, I was awakened by fancying that the doctor was running his lancet into me, and was about to assure him that he was operating by mistake on me instead of on some other patient, when I heard a loud whizzing, buzzing sound. I hadn’t been careful enough in closing the curtains, and a big mosquito had got in, and was revelling in my fresh blood. I tried in vain to catch the active creature, who was soon joined by others of his abominable race. The humming concert was increased by countless other sounds, which came through the open window,—the croaking of frogs and tree-toads, the chirping and whistling of insects and reptiles, while I could see a party of fireflies glistening among the curtains of the bed. Now and then a huge beetle would make its way into the room, and go buzzing about round and round, till to my infinite relief it darted out of the window! But the noises and the stings of the mosquitoes drove sleep from my eyelids. Presently I heard some one talking outside; it was a nigger’s voice, deep and husky.
“If de picaroons cum, den dey cum soon, and cut all our troats.”
“Garramarcy, you don’t say so!” exclaimed another. “Better tell massa; he know what do.”
“Me tink better run away and hide,” said the first speaker. “Massa want to stop and fight, and den we hab to fight too, and get killed.”
“But if we run away and don’t tell massa, he get killed, and Missy Lucy, and missus, and de piccaninnies. Me tink tell massa fust and den run away.”