"Tell ye what, darkies," one was saying, "dey's debbils! why two ob dem
stop befo' my doah an' say 'You black rascal, give us some watah! quick
now fo' we shoot you tru the head': den I hand up a gourd full--'bout a
quart min' yo',--an de fust snatch it an' pour it right down his troat,
an' hand de gourd back quick's a flash; den he turn roun' an' ride off,
while I fill de gourd for de udder, an' he do jes de same. Tell ye what
dey's debbils! didn't you see de horns, an' de big red tongues waggin'?"

There was a murmur of assent, and a shudder ran through the throng. But
Mr. Travilla's voice was heard in cheerful reassuring tones.

"No, boys, they are men, though they do the work of devils. I have seen
their disguise, and under that long red tongue, which is made of
flannel, and moved by the wearer's real tongue, there is a leather bag,
inside of the disguise--and into it they pour the water; not down their
throats."

"Dat so, Mars Ed'ard?" cried several, drawing a long breath of relief.

"Yes, that is so, boys. And they've been threatening and abusing you
to-night?"

"Yes, sah, dat dey hab!" cried a score of voices, and one after another
showed his wounds, and told a piteous tale.

Elsie and her namesake daughter wept over their losses and sufferings:
the medicine closet was unlocked and its stores liberally drawn upon for
materials to dress their wounds, both master and mistress attending to
them with their own hands; and at the same time speaking soothing,