"Yes, Massa Geral," returned the negro, yawning and half
raising his brawny form from his rude couch with one
hand, while he rubbed his heavy eyes with the knuckles
of the other.

"How is your head tonight?" inquired the officer in a
kind tone.

"Berry well, Massa Geral--but berry sleepy."

"Then sleep, Sambo; but do not fail to awaken me in time:
we shall weigh anchor the very first thing in the morning,
provided the fog does not continue. By the bye, you
superintended the landing of the baggage--was every thing
sent ashore?"

"All, Massa Geral, I see him all pack in e wagon, for e
Bubbalo town--all, except dis here I find in Miss Mungummery
cabin under e pillow."

As he spoke, the negro quitted his half recumbent position,
and drew from his breast a small clasped pocket book, on
a steel entablature adorning the cover of which, were
the initials of the young lady just named.

"How is it Sambo, that you had not sooner spoken of this?
The pocket book contains papers that may be of importance;
and yet there is now no means of forwarding it, unless
I delay the schooner."