"Why, I thought at first they had trapped me," answered Zed; "but very soon they heard something stirring upstairs, and they all rushed up together to kill that long Yankee man, who preached to them at the meeting. Lord, how he did pray for his life, to be sure! And what a screech he gave when the first of them struck him! But while they were murdering the poor creature, I sneaked downstairs and opened the door between the two halls, for I had got the key with me, and locked it on the other side, and went away out behind the stables. I wouldn't go to the stables, master, for they were sure to go there themselves after the horses; but I got under a thick laurel-bush, and curled myself up, just like Mr. Stringer's large black, dog used to do in the porch----he! he! he! There I lay snug, and I heard them come to the stables and take out the horses, and turn over the hay and straw to see that there was nobody hidden there; and I heard Hark and Will laughing quite loud, and talking about the Yankee minister. One said, 'He has preached his last preaching;' and t'other said, 'He has screamed his last screaming too; and as he sees we have gone the way he taught us, he ought to be content.' And then they laughed again quite loud." My blood ran cold at the horrible levity which Zed depicted; but I could not help believing, from all I had seen myself, that his picture was a very true one; for there is a sanguinary mirth, as well as a sanguinary fierceness. Nothing like real earnestness of purpose and steadfast determination seemed to exist in any of the revolted negroes, excepting Nat Turner. In all the rest, everything was impulse--the impulse to slay, the impulse to laugh, the impulse to hack their victim with unnecessary wounds. Poor creatures! in their state of ignorance, and almost brutality, they seemed a combination of the child and the wild beast; with the levity and thoughtlessness of the one, and the strength of the other. "I do believe," I said, after musing for a moment or two, "that this man, Nat Turner, is of a better disposition than the rest, and might, had his mind been well directed, have become a good and beneficent person." Zed shook his head, and responded,-- "Don't think so, master; he is dam cunning, that's all." "Why he saved your life, Zed," I answered; "and at first he showed no inclination to injure me." "Ay, ay," answered Zed, "that's all his cunning. He saved my life because he knew it would not do for black folks to kill black folks; and he would not fire at you because he knew that the white people were about, and he did not know how near they were. He would have shot you soon enough, if he had not been afraid of the report of the gun. Why, he was the very first to run up and kill McGrubber, although he always pretended to be great friends with him."