At the vision of their plight his good humour instantly returned, he burst into a great hearty laugh, and proceeded at once to lift the table from off them.
That effected, he caught up Gibbie in his arms, and carried him with him to bed.
In the middle of the night Gibbie half woke, and, finding himself alone, sought his father's bosom; then, in the confusion between sleeping and waking, imagined his father's death come again.
Presently he remembered it was in Sambo's arms he fell asleep, but where he was now he could not tell: certainly he was not in bed.
Groping, he pushed a door, and a glimmer of light came in.

He was in a closet of the room in which Sambo slept--and something was to do about his bed.

He rose softly and peeped out, There stood several men, and a struggle was going on--nearly noiseless.

Gibbie was half-dazed, and could not understand; but he had little anxiety about Sambo, in whose prowess he had a triumphant confidence.
Suddenly came the sound of a great gush, and the group parted from the bed and vanished.

Gibbie darted towards it.