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"
His
horse
at
the
gate
?
And
why
,
pray
,
do
you
grieve
about
that
?
"
"
'
Ecause
,
Mass
'
Woodley
,
'
ecause
de
hoss
--
dat
am
Massa
Henry
hoss
--
'
ecause
de
anymal
--
"
"
Speak
out
,
you
stammering
nigger
!
What
because
?
I
suppose
the
horse
has
his
head
upon
him
?
Or
is
it
his
tail
that
is
missing
?
"
"
Ah
,
Mass
'
Woodley
,
dis
nigga
fear
dat
am
missin
'
wuss
dan
eider
him
head
or
him
tail
.
I
's
e
feer
'd
dat
de
ole
hoss
hab
loss
him
rider
!
"
"
What
!
Henry
thrown
from
his
horse
?
Nonsense
,
Pluto
!
My
son
is
too
good
a
rider
for
that
.
Impossible
that
he
should
have
been
pitched
out
of
the
saddle
--
impossible
!
"
"
Ho
!
ho
!
I
doan
say
he
war
frown
out
ob
de
saddle
.
Gorramity
!
I
fear
de
trouble
wuss
dan
dat
.
O
!
dear
ole
Massa
,
I
tell
you
no
mo
'
.
Come
to
de
gate
ob
do
hashashanty
,
and
see
fo
youseff
.
"
By
this
time
the
impression
conveyed
by
Pluto
's
speech
--
much
more
by
his
manner
--
notwithstanding
its
ambiguity
,
had
become
sufficiently
alarming
;
and
not
only
the
planter
himself
,
but
his
daughter
and
nephew
,
hastily
forsaking
their
seats
,
and
preceded
by
the
sable
coachman
,
made
their
way
to
the
outside
gate
of
the
hacienda
.
A
sight
was
there
awaiting
them
,
calculated
to
inspire
all
three
with
the
most
terrible
apprehensions
.
A
negro
man
--
one
of
the
field
slaves
of
the
plantation
--
stood
holding
a
horse
,
that
was
saddled
and
bridled
.
The
animal
wet
with
the
dews
of
the
night
,
and
having
been
evidently
uncared
for
in
any
stable
,
was
snorting
and
stamping
the
ground
,
as
if
but
lately
escaped
from
some
scene
of
excitement
,
in
which
he
had
been
compelled
to
take
part
.
He
was
speckled
with
a
colour
darker
than
that
of
the
dewdrops
--
darker
than
his
own
coat
of
bay-brown
.
The
spots
scattered
over
his
shoulders
--
the
streaks
that
ran
parallel
with
the
downward
direction
of
his
limbs
,
the
blotches
showing
conspicuously
on
the
saddle-flaps
,
were
all
of
the
colour
of
coagulated
blood
.
Blood
had
caused
them
--
spots
,
streaks
,
and
blotches
!
