“But there’s another! and another! and heaps of ’em!” said she, becoming almost frantic with excitement. “Good Lord! they be a fighting!” exclaimed both Dan and Jesse. Several of the nearer neighbors soon came running up, breathless and alarmed, to ask what should be done. “What _is_ all we gwoine to do, Uncle Jesse?” asked a small coal-black man, rushing up to the yard, gun in hand. “Don’t ye think we ought to go down and help ’em!—!—! but it’s awful to hear them guns and stand here with my good rifle in my hands doing nothin’;” and he strode back and forth in front of the door where the group was standing, clasping his trusty weapon to his breast. “You’d best remember the Lord in such a time as this, anyhow, and not be swearing,” replied Roome. “The more goes there, the worse and the bigger that fuss has got to be, and the more colored people will get killed any how for the whites has got to beat. No, no, Penny you’d best keep away if you don’t want to be killed.” “I wonder where Deacon Atwood is?” asked Den Bardum. “He a’n’t there, you may be shor. He’ll talk big, and put the rest up, but keep safe hisself,” said Jesse. “How about that Sheriff’s office?” and Penny looked significantly at both Jesse and Den. “That’s so,” said Den, “we three did promise to get him nominated on the Republican ticket, didn’t we? He was mighty in love with our Governor then.” “But the Governor won’t support this kind of doings,” said Roome. “Goodness gracious! Just hear the guns!” said Penny, “We’ll see fire pretty soon. They’ll be burning houses, certain.” “I do hope this isn’t our folks begun this,” said Jesse. “I hope they’ll keep inside the law, and then the United States can protect us, and not let the white folks here kill us all off. But if our folks begun this, the good Laud knows what will become of us all. If Deacon Atwood goes in for this kind of thing, I’ll go back on _him_; for I won’t stick to any body that violates the law. My motto is to punish every man, white and black, that violates the law. It does seem mighty hard to stand here, and hear them guns, and believe that somebody’s getting killed; but I feel in my breast that it is the right thing to do. Does any of you know who’s gone over from Bean Island?—any of the neighbors?” “Of the white folks? or the colored?” “Either one.” “Dr. Ave, Joe Ennery, Coot Hogg, and Ramal Bardun, John Rammel, and Robert Blending has gone; and Captain Black, and Williams, and I expect the Payne boys.” “Do you _know_ that, Penny?” and Uncle Jesse bit his lips. “Yes, I met them near sundown, gallopping hard that way; or rather, I didn’t meet the Payne boys.” “Hist! There comes the old man.” “Good evening Mr. Payne,” said the host, extending his right hand in a cordial welcome, while with his left he made a sign behind his back, commanding caution.