John Jay dropped at her feet, trembling and cold, and so frightened that he could only cling to her skirts, sobbing piteously.
When, at last, he found his breath, all he could gasp was, "Oh, Mammy! the gandahs are aftah me! the gandahs are aftah me!" Big boy as he was, Mammy stooped and lifted him in her arms, and holding him close, with his head on her shoulder, rocked back and forth in the big wooden chair until he grew calmer.

Not until he had sobbed out the whole story, and wiped his eyes several times on her apron, did he see that there was company in the room.
George Chadwick was sitting by the door.

It was the first time he had been in the cabin since his return from college.

He had ridden up from the toll-gate on a passing wagon to see his old friend, Sheba, and had been there the greater part of the afternoon, listening to her tales of his mother in the old slavery days.

He had not intended to accept her urgent invitation to stay to supper, but when he saw that she shared John Jay's fright, he decided to remain.