“I dun told the ossifer dar wus no one here you knows, answerin’ to your perscription.”

“But that was only a measure of safety for yourself; you surely do not mean to take sides with my persecutors?”

“I has nuffin at all to do wid it, at all,” hunching her back; “I has gib you far warnin’ ‘bout de laudamy an’ der retentions, an’ you mus’ fight it out yourself, chile!  I is afraid to go one step furder; but de debble sort o’ tempted me dis mornin’ to make a clean breast of der doins.  Ef you mentions it, do; I is retermined to reny ebbery word of your ramification, and in dis here country a nigger’s word, dey tells me, goes jus’ as fur as a pore white gal’s, if not furder; ’sides dat, I is gwine to swar favorable for my ’ployers, in course, at de court-house—­unless”—­hesitating and leering in my face—­“you sees, honey, dey have not paid me yit—­and mebbe dey won’t, ef I displeases ‘em, an’ your gole watch is gone; an’ den, Dinah would be lef’ on de shelf.”

“But I have other property, Dinah, other jewels, even.  That watch was very little compared to what I possess outside of these prison-walls, and these possessions—­”

“Whar is dey, honey? ‘a bird in dis han’ am worf two dozen in a bush,’ as my ole masta used to say, wen de traders cum up to buy his corn an’ cotton, an’ I always sawed de dollars come down mighty quick after dat sayin’ of his’n; for I used to watch round the dinin’-room pretty constant an’ close in dem days, totin’ in poplar-chips an’ corn-cobs for kin’lin’ an’ litin’ masta’s long clay pipes—­none ob de common sort, I tells you—­an’ brushin’ up de harf an’ keepin’ off de flies, and so forf.  You see I was a little shaver in dem days, an’ masta liked my Congo straction, an’ petted me a heap, an’ I never seed the cotton-field till my ole masta died; den dey put me out ob de house, because Mass Jack Dillard’s father—­dat was my ole mistis’s own step-brother’s secon’ son—­he ‘cused me ob stealin’ his gole pencil-case wrongfully—­like I had any use fur his writin’ ’tensils!” (indignantly).

“Dinah,” I adjured, cutting short the stream of her narrative, “for God’s sake, see Mr. McDermot, and tell him of my situation!  He shall have a thousand dollars to-morrow, and you also shall have money enough to buy your whole family, and bring them hither, if you will but assist me to escape this night.  Don’t stand and look at me, woman, but act at once, if you have a human heart.  You must help me now, or never.”

“You mus’ tink I’s one ob de born fools, Miss Mirimy, to bl’eve all dat stuff!  Doesn’t I know you loss all your trunks on de ‘Scusco, an’ wasn’t you a pore gal, teachin’ white folks’s chilluns fur a livin’ before?  I has hearn all dat discounted since I come into dis ’stablishment.  We all knows as how teachers is de meanest kine of white trash gwine; still, I specs you might’ly.  You has been ob de quality; any nigger can see dat wid half an eye open; an’ you has got more sense in de end ob yo little finger, ef you is crazy, dan all de res tied up in a bunch ob fedders!  Wat I does for you, chile, I does for lub ob yo purliteness” (hesitating here).  “You hasn’t anoder ob dem gole-pieces anywhar, like dat you gib me befo’, has you?  I’se bery bad off fur ’baccer, I is, indeed, chile, an’ de pay is mighty slow in dis house.”