"
Mr. Pennant had learned all he wanted to know, and from the parade he
could see even in the darkness that only four guns were mounted on the
works. He began to feel in a hurry to carry out the remainder of the
programme assigned to him. He took the hand of the Confederate officer
when he reached the point where Uncle Job was waiting for him, bade him
good-morning, and left the fort.
"How's de sick man, Massa Gumboat?" asked the old negro, chuckling as
though he appreciated the stroke of strategy made by his companion.
"He is better; in fact, he was about well when I left him," replied
the practitioner. "But I have no more time to waste," added he, as he
quickened his pace, moving in the direction of the shore.
The day was beginning to break in the east, and he was afraid the
commander of the Bronx would become uneasy in regard to him. The
quarters of the soldiers were passed, though they were not in use, and
the shore reached. The lieutenant thanked the guide for the service he
had rendered, and told him he could go back to his cabin, and finish his
night's sleep.
"No, sar; see you frou, Massa Gumboat," replied Job.
"Do you wish to leave this place, Uncle Job?" asked the officer.
"No, sar; I want to be free, but I'm not gwine away, I want to see de
gumboat.
Pages:
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269