“Have it made out so you can give it, yourself,” counselled Still. “Wait till the last minute and then spring it on ’em. We’ll show ’em we’re not to be treated as they please. They don’t know me yet, but they soon will. I’ve got that as will make some of ’em wince. I’ll show ’em who Hiram Still is.” He tapped his pocket significantly. So it was decided, and Leech went off to the city to use his influence with Colonel Krafton, while Still was to prepare a foundation for his interference, through the negro leaders, Sherwood, Moses, and Nicholas Ash. That evening there was a little more stir among the negroes about the court-house than had been observed before. Sherwood and Moses were there, sent down by Still, and that night they held a meeting—a religious meeting it was called—at which there was some singing and praying, and much speaking or preaching—the two preachers being Sherwood and Moses. They could be heard all over the village, and at length their shouting and excitement reached such a pitch and attracted so much attention that some of the residents walked down to the place where they were congregated, to look into the matter. Moses was speaking at the moment, mounted on an impromptu platform, swaying his body back and forth, and pouring forth a doctrine as voluble in words as it was violent in sound and gesture, whilst his audience surged around him, swaying and shouting, and exciting themselves into a sort of wild frenzy. The white men who had gathered, listened silently and sullenly to the sounds rising in unison with the speaker’s voice. Some were of the opinion that he ought to be stopped at once and the meeting broken up, and there were plenty of offers to do it. A more prudent head, however, had adopted another course. Dr. Cary, who happened to be in the village that night, hearing what was going on, and knowing what might occur at any moment, called on the officer in command, and stated to him the danger of a collision. Captain Middleton walked down to the meeting with him to make his own observation. Only a few moments sufficed. The violence of the speaker, who was now dancing back and forth; the excitement of the dusky crowd pressing about him; the gathering of white men on the edge of the throng, speaking in low, earnest tones, their eyes turned to the speaker, suggested prompt measures. “Don’t de Book say, as we shall inherit the nth?” cried the speaker, and his audience moaned and swayed and shouted in assent. “An’ ain’t de harvest white fur de laborer?” “Yas-yas,” shouted the audience. “White fur de laborer!”