The knife rose in the air, and the black, in a cool, sneering tone, replied: "Say your prayers 'fore you come nigher, for, so help me God, you'm a dead man!"
I laid my hand on the Colonel's arm, to draw him back, saying, as I did so: "There's danger in him! I _know_ it. Let him go, and he shall ask your pardon."
"I shan't ax his pardon," cried the black; "leff him an' me be, sir; we'll fix dis ourselfs."
"Don't interfere, Mr. K----," said my host, with perfect coolness, but with a face pallid with rage. "Let me govern my own plantation."
"As you say, sir," I replied, stepping back a few paces; "but I warn you--there is danger in him!"
Taking no notice of my remark, the Colonel turning to the trembling negroes, said: "One of you go to the house and bring my pistols."
"You kin shoot me, ef you likes," said Jim, with a fierce, grim smile; "but I'll take you ter h--l wid me, _shore_. You knows WE wont stand a blow!"
The Colonel, at the allusion to their relationship, started as if shot, and turning furiously on the negro, yelled out: "I'll shoot you for that, you d----d nigger, by ----."
"It 'pears ter me, Cunnel, ye've hed 'bout nuff shootin' round har, lately; better stop thet sort o' bis'ness; it moight give ye a sore throat," said the long, lean, loose-jointed stump-speaker of the previous Sunday, as he entered the cabin and strode directly up to my host.
"What brought you here, you d----d insolent hound?" cried the Colonel, turning fiercely on the new-comer.
"Wal, I cum ter du ye a naaboorly turn--I've kotched two on yer niggers down ter my still, and I want ye ter take 'em 'way," returned the corn-cracker, with the utmost coolness.
"Two of my niggers!" exclaimed the Colonel, perceptibly moderating his tone--"which ones?"
"I thank you, Barnes; excuse my hard words--I was excited."
"All right, Cunnel; say no more 'bout thet. Will ye send fur 'em? I'd hev fotched 'em 'long, but my waggin's off jest now."
"Yes, I'll send at once. Have you got them safe?"
"Safe? I reckon so! Kotched 'em last night, arter dark, and they've kept right still ever sense, I 'sure ye--but th' gal holds on ter th' young 'un ter kill--we cudn't get it 'way no how."
"They got 'gainst my turpentime raft--the curren' driv 'em down, I s'pose."