"Who's
dar?" he asked, bending forward on the box as he sought to pierce
the darkness with his glance.
"George--"
"Oh, it you, Missy?"
"Yes, I wish you to drive me into Raleigh," said Betty, and she
and Hannibal entered the carriage.
"All right, Missy. Yo'-all ready fo' me to go along out o'
here?"
"Yes--drive fast, George!" urged Betty.
"It's right dark fo' fas' drivin' Missy, with the road jes'
aimin' fo' to bus' yo' springs with chuckholes!" He had turned
his horses' heads in the direction of Raleigh while he was
speaking. "It's scandalous black in these heah woods, Missy I
'clar' I never seen it no blacker!"
The carriage swung forward for perhaps a hundred yards, then
suddenly the horses came to a dead stop.
"Go along on, dar!" cried George, and struck them with his whip,
but the horses only reared and plunged.
"Hold on, nigger!" said a rough voice out of the darkness.
"What yo' doin' ?" the coachman gasped. "Don' yo' know dis de
Belle Plain carriage? Take yo' han's offen to dem hosses' bits!"
Two men stepped to the side of the carriage.
"Show your light, Bunker," said the same rough voice that had
spoken before. Instantly a hooded lantern was uncovered, and
Hannibal uttered a cry of terror. He was looking into the face
of Slosson, the tavern-keeper.
CHAPTER XXVII
PRISONERS
In the face of Betty's indignant protest Slosson and the man
named Bunker climbed into the carriage.
"Don't you be scared, ma'am," said the tavernkeeper, who smelt
strongly of whisky.
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