As he observed the man's deprecatory air, and thought of his own position, he burst into a fit of hearty laughter, whereupon the negro recovered himself and smiled the smile of the guiltless.
"Come," said Nigel at last.

"Lead on, you rascal! When I see your master I shall know what to say." "All right, Massa Nadgel, but mind what you say, else I won't answer for de consikences.

Foller me an' look arter your feet, for de road is roughish." The negro's last remark was unquestionably true, for the road--if a mere footpath merits the name--was rugged in the extreme--here winding round the base of steep cliffs, there traversing portions of luxuriant forest, elsewhere skirting the margin of the sea.
Moses walked at such a pace that Nigel, young and active though he was, found it no easy matter to keep up with him.

Pride, however, forbade him to show the slightest sign of difficulty, and made him even converse now and then in tones of simulated placidity.

At last the path turned abruptly towards the face of a precipice and seemed to terminate in a small shallow cave.