"Did you hear me?" I asked, astonished.

"Yaas, suh, I done hear yoh, suh."

I looked him over in amazement, then walked past him towards the door.

"Is you gwine look foh Mars' Lupus?" he asked, barring my way with one
wrinkled, blue-black hand on the brass door-knob. "Kaze ef you is, you
don't had better, suh."

I could only stare.

"Kaze Mars' Lupus done say he gwine kill de fustest man what 'sturb him,
suh," continued the black man, in a listless monotone. "An' I spec' he
gwine do it."

"Is Sir Lupus abed at this hour?" I asked.

"Yaas, suh."

There was no emotion in the old man's voice. Something made me think
that he had given the same message to visitors many times.

I was very angry at the discourtesy, for he must have known when to
expect me from my servant, who had accompanied me by water with my boxes
from St. Augustine to Philadelphia, where I lingered while he went
forward, bearing my letter with him. Yet, angry and disgusted as I was,
there was nothing for me to do except to swallow the humiliation, walk
in, and twiddle my thumbs until the boorish lord of the manor waked to