Yer know, Miss Mollie, dem men dat got hurt dat ar
night--de Ku Kluckers, two on 'em, one I 'llow, killed out-an'-out,
an' de todder dat bad cut--oh, my God!" she cried with a shudder,
"I nebber see de likes--no nebber, Miss Mollie. All down his
face--from his forehead ter his chin, an' dat too--yes, an' his
breast-bone, too--looked like dat wuz all split open an' a-bleedin'!
Oh, it war horrible, horrible, Miss Mollie!"
The woman buried her face in the teacher's lap as if she would shut
out the fearful spectacle.
"There, there," said Mollie, soothingly, as she placed a hand upon
her head. "You must not think of it. You must try and forget the
horrors of that night."
"Don't yer know, Miss Mollie, dat dem Ku Kluckers ain't a-gwine
ter let de one ez done dat lib roun' h'yer, ner ennywhar else dat
dey can come at 'em, world widout end?"
"Well, I thought you were sure that Nimbus was safe?"
"Nimbus?" said the woman in surprise, uncovering her face and looking
up. "Nimbus? 'Twan't him, Miss Mollie, 'twan't him. I 'llows it
mout hev been him dat hurt de one dat 'peared ter hev been killed
straight out; but it was _me_ dat cut de odder one, Miss
Mollie."
"You?" cried Mollie, in surprise, instinctively drawing back.
"You?"
"Yes'm," said Lugena, humbly, recognizing the repulse. "Me--wid
de axe! I hope yer don't fault me fer it, Miss Mollie."
"Blame you? no indeed, 'Gena!" was the reply.
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