shapeless in the gloom. We were within a single step of the top when a
man--seemingly a huge figure--suddenly emerged from the shadow of a
column, and confronted us.

"What ther hell," he ejaculated sullenly, "are you doin' here?"

I paused with foot uplifted, too astounded at the apparition to
respond, conscious my companion had shrunk behind.

"Well, speak up!" growled the voice. "What 's wanted?"

It was not in my nature to fear men, and this was evidently a man. I
could feel the warm blood surge back to my heart.

"You surely startled me, friend," I explained. "Are you the overseer?"

"I reckon I am, but what I want to know is, who you are?"

"I?" striving to regain my wits. "Why, I am--am Philip Henley; we--we
have just got in from the North."

"How did you git out yere?"

"A negro drove us from the station--old Pete who worked here once;
maybe you know him?"

The man grunted.

"What become of the nigger?"