When Saul had told him all that had been said and done on the plantation after his departure, the old negro suggested that we lounge around the village, following the example of the curious visitors, lest some one note the fact that we were apparently taking council together, and it would not seem reasonable we would willingly remain with an old negro shut up in such a wretched cabin, when there was so much to be seen on the outside. In view of all that occurred before this day was come to a close, it may be well that I describe the hovel which we called old Mary's cabin, even though there was nothing in or around it worthy of particular notice under ordinary circumstances. The fact that later it served us much as a citadel in the midst of our enemies, who were in turn surrounded by their foes, renders it necessary I go into detail concerning it for the better understanding of what happened later. An ordinary hut built of logs, perhaps twenty feet square, with a door made of puncheon planks, by which I mean planks that have been hewn out of the log with an axe rather than cut by a saw, and two windows, in one of which four panes of glass were broken, but both protected by shutters which swung from the outside. The building consisted of one room on the floor where the occupants were supposed to eat, sleep and live, while above was a loft formed by the roof, and approached through a scuttle situated directly opposite the door, at the rear of the hovel. To gain access to this scuttle one was forced to climb a sort of ladder which had been formed by nailing strips of wood against the logs, and, as I learned before we were come to an end of using this cabin as a place of refuge, it was by no means a simple task to ascend, even for lads who were accustomed to swarming up trees, or shinning the slender masts of our river craft. The loft was, as I have said, formed by the roof, and its floor, like the one below, was made of puncheon planks, yet not so closely laid together but that there were crevices through which one's foot might slip if he walked carelessly. At either end small holes had been cut between the logs, perhaps four or five inches square, which served as windows, although there was nothing to prevent the wind or the rain from entering. I judged that when old Mary lived in the place these apertures were closed, most like with boards, or perhaps with cloth, but now they stood naked, and the wind, coming in across the river, found direct vent through the attic, thus insuring good ventilation if not comfort. On the outside, and at the rear, was a chimney built of sticks and clay, with a hole cut through the logs near the floor of the lower room, where was a fireplace of stones laid up with mortar, and the inside of this rude chimney was plentifully bedaubed with mud to the depth of two or three inches, as a safeguard against fire.