raud immediately, but Mason
was by no means so quick-sighted as his commander. He therefore turned
rather contemptuously to the soldier, and, speaking in an undertone,
observed:

"That anabaptist, methodistical, Quaker, psalm-singing rascal has
frightened the boy with his farrago[118] about flames and brimstone.
I'll step in and cheer him with a little rational conversation."

[Footnote 118: medley.]

"I have heard of fear making a man white," said the soldier, drawing
back, and staring as if his eyes would start from their sockets, "but
it has changed the royal captain to a black!"

The truth was that Caesar, unable to hear what Mason uttered in a low
voice, and having every fear aroused in him by what had already
passed, incautiously removed the wig a little from one of his ears, in
order to hear the better, without in the least remembering that the
color might prove fatal to his disguise. The sentinel had kept his
eyes fastened on his prisoner, and noticed the action. The attention
of Mason was instantly drawn to the same object; and, forgetting all
delicacy for a brother officer in distress, or, in short, forgetting
everything but the censure that might alight on his corps, the
lieutenant sprang forward and seized the terrified African by the
throat; for no sooner had Caesar heard his color named than he knew
that his discovery was certain, and, at the first sound of Mason's
heavy boot on the floor, he arose from his seat and retreated
precipitately[119] to a corner of the room.

[Footnote 119: with haste.]

"Who are you?" cried Mason, dashing the head of the man against the
angle of the wall at each interrogatory. "Who are you, and where is
the Englishman? Speak, thou thunder-cloud! Answer me, you jackdaw, or
I'll hang you on the gallows of the spy!"

Caesar continued firm. Neither the threats nor the blows could extract
any reply, until the lieutenant, by a very natural transition in the
attack, sent his heavy boot forward in a direction that brought it in
direct contact with the most sensitive part of the negro--his shin.
The most obdurate heart could not have exacted further patience, and
Caesar instantly gave in. The first words he spoke were:

"Golly! Massa, you t'ink I got no feelin'?"

"By heavens!" shouted the lieutenant, "it is the negro himself!
Scoundrel! where is your master, and who was the priest?"

While he was speaking as if about to renew the attack, Caesar cried
aloud for me