Cruel As The Grave

"I can well believe that."

"Why, marser!--but you don't 'member that time I got mad long o' old

Marse Bertram Berners, 'bout blaming of me for the sorrell horse falling

lame; and I run away?"

"No."

"Well, I was gone three months, and not five miles from home all that

time! And all the constables looking arter me for law and order; and all

the poor white trash, hunting of me for the reward; and not one of 'em

all ever struck upon my trail, and me so nigh home all the while!"

"Well, but you were found at last," suggested Mr. Berners.

"Who, me? No, sir! And I don't think as I should a-been found yet;

'cause it was a funny kind of life, that run-a-way life, a dodging of

the man-hunters; but you see, marser, I sort o' pined arter the

child--meaning Miss Sybil, who was then about four years old. And,

moreover, it was fotch to me by a secret friend o' mine, as the child

was likewise a pining arter me. So I up and went straight home, and

walked right up before old marse, and took off my hat and told him as

how I was willin' to forgive and forget, and let by-gones be by-gones

like a Christian gentleman, if he would do the same."

"And of course your master at once accepted such magnanimous terms."

"Who, he? Why, Marse Lyon! he looked jes as if he'd a-knocked me down!

Only, you see, the child--meaning Miss Sybil--was a sitting on his knee,

which, soon as ever she saw me, she ran to me, and clasped me round one

leg, and tried to climb up in my arms; which I took her up at once; and

old marster, he couldn't knock me down then, if it had been to have

saved his life."

"So peace was ratified."

"Yes, Marse Lyon! which I telled you all this here nonsense jes to let

you know how good I was at hiding and seeking. And, Marse! the horses

come home all right."

"They did! I am glad of that."

"This was the way of it being all right, sir! You see I knowed, when I

heard you were going to ride to this old church, as you couldn't get the

horses through this thicket, but would have to turn them loose, to find

their way home. And I knowed how if any other eyes 'cept mine saw them,

it would set people to axing questions. So I goes out to the road, and

watches till I sees 'em coming; when I takes charge of 'em, and gets 'em

into the stable quiet, and no one the wiser."

"Well done, Joe! But tell me, my good man, are we missed yet? Has any

one inquired for us?"