"De ginnywine ole-time coffee?" insisted the negro.
"Marse Dave Henry," the negro yelled, "run here an' look at dish yer ginnywine coffee! Dey's nuff coffee dar fer ter make mistiss happy de balance er her days. Some done spill out!" he exclaimed. "Boss, kin I have dem what's on de groun'?"
"Take 'em," said O'Halloran, "an' much good may they do you."
"One, two, th'ee, fo', fi', sick, sev'n." The negro counted the grains as he picked them up. "O Marse Dave Henry, run here an' look! I got sev'n grains er ginnywine coffee. I'm gwine take um ter mistiss."
The Irishman regarded the negro with curiosity. Then taking the dead branch of a tree he drew a line several yards in length between himself and Kilpatrick.
"D'ye see that line there?" he said to the negro.
"Dat ar mark? Oh, yasser, I sees de mark."
"Very well. On that side of the line you are in slavery--on this side the line you are free."
"I been hear talk er freedom, but I ain't seed 'er yit, an' I dunner how she feel." The negro scratched his head and grinned expectantly.
"I b'lieve I'll step 'cross an' see how she feel." The negro stepped over the line, and walked up and down as if to test the matter physically. "'Tain't needer no hotter ner no colder on dis side dan what 'tis on dat," he remarked. Then he cried out to his young master: "Look at me, Marse Dave Henry; I'm free now."
"All right." The young man waved his hand without taking his eyes from the letter he was reading.
"He take it mos' too easy fer ter suit me," said the negro. Then he called out to his young master again: "O Marse Dave Henry! Don't you tell mistiss dat I been free, kase she'll take a bresh-broom an' run me off'n de place when I go back home."
Squire Fambrough insisted that his son should go to the house and look it over for the sake of old times, and young Clopton went along to keep Miss Julia company. O'Halloran, Kilpatrick, and the negro stayed where they were--the white men smoking their pipes, and the negro chewing the first "mannyfac" tobacco he had seen in many a day.
The others were not gone long. As they came back, a courier was seen riding through the woods at break-neck speed, going from the Union lines to those of the Confederates, and carrying a white flag. Kilpatrick hailed him, and he drew rein long enough to cry out, as he waved his flag: