I felt of the face of my
watch, deciding the time to be not far from half-past twelve. Our tramp
had seemed longer than a trifle over three hours, and it was a relief to
know we still had so much of darkness left in which to operate. I
touched the man lying next me, unable to tell one dark form
from another.
"Who are you?"
"Wilson, sir."
"Where is the guide?"
"Right yere, sah," and the speaker wriggled toward me on his face. "Dis
yere is de place."
"I supposed so, but it is all a mere blur out there to me. What are
these buildings just ahead of us?"
"De slave quarters, sah; dey's all deserted, 'cept maybe dat first one
yonder," pointing. "I reckon Aunt Mandy an' her ol' man are dar yet,
but de field hands dey all done cleared out long time ago. De stable was
ober dar toward de right, whar dat lantern was dodgin' 'round. Yo' creep
'long yere, an' I'll point out de house--see, it's back o' de bunch o'
trees, whar de yaller light shows in de winder. I reckon dar's some of
'em up yet."
From his description I received a fair impression of the surroundings,
questioning briefly as I stared out at the inanimate objects faintly
revealed, and endeavoring to plan some feasible course of action. The
stable was a hundred yards to the rear of the house, a fenced-off garden
between, the driveway circling to the right.
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