Has"-- he hesitated in his still uncertainty as to the actuality of his experience and its probable extent--"has--Cato--escaped ?" "If yo' mean dat sassy, bull-nigger oberseer of yo'se, cunnle, HE'S safe, yo' bet!" returned Sophy sharply.

"Safe in his own quo'tahs night afo' las', after braggin' about the bloodhaowns he killed; and safe ober the county line yes'day moan'in, after kicking up all dis rumpus.

If dar is a sassy, highfalutin' nigger I jiss 'spises--its dat black nigger Cato o' yo'se! Now,"-- relenting--"yo' jiss wink yo' eye, honey, and don't excite yo'se'f about sach black trash; drap off to sleep comfor'ble.

Fo' you do'an get annuder word out o' Sophy, shuah!" As if in obedience, Courtland closed his eyes.

But even in his weak state he was conscious of the blood coming into his cheek at Sophy's relentless criticism of the man for whom he had just periled his life and position.