But Chunk was in great spirits and a state of suppressed excitement.  “’Pears ez ef I mout own mysef ‘fo’ dis moon done waxin’ en wanin’,” he thought.  “Dere’s big times comin,’ big times.  I’se yeard w’at hap’n w’en de Yanks go troo de kentry like an ol bull in a crock’ry sto’.”  In his duties of waiting on the troopers and clearing the table he had opportunities of purloining a goodly portion of the viands, for he remembered that he also had assumed the role of host with a very meagre larder to draw upon.

Since the Confederates were greatly wearied and were doubly inclined to sleep from the effects of a hearty supper and liberal potations, Mr. Baron offered to maintain a watch the early part of the night, while Perkins was enjoined to sleep with one eye open near the quarters.  Mattresses and quilts were brought down and spread on the piazza floor, from which soon rose a nasal chorus, “des like,” as Chunk declared, “a frog-pon’ in full blas’.”

Whately, trained in alert, soldierly ways, slept on the sofa in the parlor near his men.  One after another the lights were extinguished, and the house became quiet.  Chunk was stealing away with his plunder through the shrubbery in the rear of the house, when he was suddenly confronted by Zany.  “Hi! you niggah!” she whispered, “I’se cotch you now kyarin’ off nuff vittles ter keep you a mont.  You gwinter run away.”

“You wan ter run wid me?” asked Chunk, unabashed.

“What you took me fer?”

“Fer better er wuss, w’ite folks say.  Reck’n it ud be fer wuss in dis case.”

“I reck’n de wuss ain’ fur off.  I des step ter ole mars’r an’ tell ’im ter ‘vestigate yo’ cabin dis eb’nin’,” she said, and, with a great show of offended dignity, she was about to move away.

“Look yere, Zany, doan yer be a fool.  Doan you wanter be a free gyurl?”

“Ef you had me fer wuss I’d be des ’bout ez free ez Miss Lou w’en she mar’ed ter Mad Whately.”

“Hi! you year dat, too?”

“I got eyes, en I got years, en you ain’ gwinter light out dis night en lebe yo’ granny en we uns.  I sut’ny put a spoke in yo’ wheel dat stop hits runnin’.”

Chunk was now convinced that he would have to take Zany into his confidence.  He looked cautiously around, then whispered rapidly in her ear.  “Hi!” she exclaimed, softly, “you got longer head dan body.”

“I kin reach ter yo’ lips,” said Chunk, snatching a kiss.

“Stop dat foolishness!” she exclaimed, giving him a slight cuff.

“Zany, keep mum ez a possum.  Dere’s big times comin’, en no un kin hender um, dough dey kin git deysefs in a heap ob trouble by blarnations.  De Linkum men soon gwine ter be top of de heap an I’se gwinter be on top wid um.  Dar you be, too, ef you stan’s by Miss Lou en me.”

“Ve’y well, but I’se gwinter keep my eye on you, Marse Chunk.”

“Reck’n you will, kaze I am’ gwinter be fur off; en ef you puts yo’ eye on some oder man, you soon fin’ he ain’ dar.”  With this ominous assurance he stole away.