Again he looked around him, stealthily.

"It's h'anted!" said he, desperately. "Missis, listen: I 'uz comin'
home from prayer-meetin', 'bout two weeks ago, walkin' back er dis
same place in de dark ob de moon. An' all ob a suddin I hyuh de
pianner in de pahlor, _ting-a-ling-a-ling! ting-a-ling-a-ling!_ I
say, 'Who de name er Gawd in ol' Mis' Scarlett's pahlor, when dey
ain't nobody in it?' I look thoo de haidge, an' dey's one weenchy
light in de room, an' whilst I'm lookin', it goes out! An' de
pianner, she's a-playin' right along! Yessum, de pianner, she's er
tingalingin' by 'erself in de middle o' de night!"

"And who was playing it, Uncle Adam?"

"Dat's what I axin yit: who playin' Mis' Scarlett's pianner when dey
wasn't nobody in de house?"

"Why didn't you find out?"

"Who, me?" cried the old man, with horror. "If I could er borried a
extra pahr er laigs from er yaller dawg, I'd a did it right den, so 's
I could run twict faster 'n I done!--Whichin' please, ma'ams, lemme
take you-all ter de hotel."

When he saw that he couldn't prevail upon us to do so, he left us
regretfully, shaking his head. He would come back early in the
morning to do anything we might require. But he wouldn't stay
overnight in Hynds House for any consideration. No negro in the
county would.