Then, after a cautious look around,--"to Chickahominy Swamp," he added in lower tones.
Uncle Billy cocked his ears.

Here was news indeed.
"Chickahominy, huh! So de Yankees is up dar, is dey?
An' what you think you gwine to do when you git to 'em ?" "Wuck 'roun de camp," replied Jeems Henry with some vagueness.
"Doin' what ?" was the relentless query.
"Blackin' de gent'men's boots--an'-- an' gittin' paid fer it," Jeems Henry stammered in reply.

"It's better'n being a slave, Unc' Billy," he added as he saw the sneer of contempt on the faithful old man's face.
"An' ef you wan' sech a crazy ol' fool, you'd come along wid me, too." At this combination of temptation and insult Uncle Billy's eyes narrowed with contempt and loathing.

"Me ?" he said, and a rigid arm pointed back at the house which had been for years his source of shelter and comfort.
"Me leave Miss Hallie _now_?
Right when she ain't got _nothin_'?
Look heah, nigger; dog-gone yo' skin, I got a great min' for to mash yo' mouf.

Yas, I _is_ a slave.