Emory dropped his hand, limply.

"He will go to work in the morning," said Nick; "but mind you, not a
lash."

"Very good, Master Nick," said the man; "but who's to get him in his
cabin?"

"I will," said Nick. He beckoned to the Congo, who followed him over to
quarters and went in at his door without a protest.

The next morning Mrs. Temple looked out of her window and saw the
militiamen on the lawn.

"Pooh!" she said, "are those butternuts the soldiers that Nick went to
fetch?"



CHAPTER V

CRAM'S HELL

After that my admiration for Nick Temple increased greatly, whether
excited by his courage and presence of mind, or his ability to imitate
men and women and creatures, I know not. One of our amusements, I
recall, was to go to the Congo's cabin to see him fall on his face, until
Mr. Mason put a stop to it. The clergyman let us know that we were
encouraging idolatry, and he himself took the chief in hand.