“Niggers has no choice,” she answered darkly. And something told Andria there was a black story that Salome would not tell. “By and by he bring Chloe an’ Amelia Jane. He tell dem dis is Bermuda. And dey never fret, dey only caring to eat and save deir wages. De Lawd knows if we ever get away from here. Don’t you ’spose I never tried, ’cause dat’s what I did try. But--I ain’t gone yet!” “I’ll make him let us go!” Salome clutched her, really ashy with terror. “You never say nothin’, or dey’s no more o’ dis world for me. You mind now. I never tell you nothin’; you never tell me nothin’; you see and I sees; and we beat them if we can. Dey’s here, dey’s always been here, but when dey ain’t no one but niggers in de house dey goes. Dey get master yet,” she said savagely, “for all he dares ’em.” “But you told me there were no animals--where did that thing come from?” “Sometimes I think dey spring out o’ de earth. I don’t know. But dey’s worse--you tell me he jabbers at you dis morning,” interrupting herself, “an’ she’s afraid of people! If he’s going round in de daylight like dat, an’ she’s afraid, he’ll get her sure!” “But who is he?” “Dat’s what I don’t know. But he climbs and--Miss Holbeach, it ain’t no jaguar dat chokes de life out o’ my lambs and don’t tear no flesh nor skin!” Andria’s flesh crawled at the slow words. In the silence the storm outside was like the end of the world. The battering of the wind, the crash of falling trees, the roar of the rain covered the low voices of the two women. In the uproar Beryl, like a statue that lived and listened, drew her breath long and slow. Suddenly she spoke, without turning. “There are more than that one, and they’re hunting and yapping like dogs. I wish I could see them! But it’s too dark.” “Are they hunting us?” cried Andria, shuddering. Already she seemed to feel the ripping claws, the crunching teeth of the great beast outside. “Not me!” said Beryl dreamily. Salome watched her with awestruck eyes. “If we dies, we dies,” she said hardly. “Better lie down on dem beds an’ rest. Dey ain’t got in yet. Pray de Lawd we ain’t going to be de meat at a jaguar wedding dis night!” With the stoical courage born of long endurance of fear she lay down on a rug. Andria, in sheer despair, sat down silently. And in the midst of the storm she seemed to hear what Beryl was hearing--a wild snarling, a medley of quick cries--and set her teeth. Any minute, through any door, a square, savage head might show itself with death in its green eyes. She looked at Beryl. The girl was curled up on her bed like a kitten, sound asleep. Black woman and white looked at each other, then with one consent sat up and kept their useless, terrified watch till the lamp burned dim. The wind had fallen, the horrid outcry in the garden had ceased, and, lulled by the quiet, the two slept in their chairs, worn out.