weet cold water to the rest. "One of these young ladies
wants you to tell her fortune."
The old negro dropped his head, waving his gaunt hands restlessly. Then
his gaze lifted and the whitened eyeballs roved painfully about as if in
search of something elusive. The judge beckoned to Betty Page, but she
shook her head with a little grimace and drew back.
"You go, Shirley," she whispered, and with a laughing glance at the
others, Shirley came and sat down on the lowest step.
Mad Anthony put out a wavering hand and touched the young body. His
fingers strayed over the habit and went up to the curling bronze under
the hat-brim. "Dis de li'l mistis," he muttered, "ain' afeahd ob ol'
Ant'ny. Dah's fiah en she ain' afeahd, en dah's watah en she ain'
afeahd. Wondah whut Ah gwine tell huh? Whut de coloh ob yo' haih,
honey?"
"Black," put in Chilly Lusk, with a wink at the others. "Black as a
crow."
Old Anthony's hand fell back to his knee. "Young mars' laugh at de ol'
man," he said, "but _he_ don' know. Dat de coloh dat buhn mah han's--de
coloh ob gol', en eyes blue like er cat-bird's aig. Dah's er man gwine
look in dem eyes, honey, en gwine make 'em cry en cry." He raised his
head sharply, his lids shut tight, and swung his arm toward the North.
"Dah's whah he come f'om," he said, "en heah"--his arm veered and he
pointed straight toward the ragged hill behind them--"he stay."
Lusk laughed noiselessly. "He's pointing to Damory Court," he whispered
to Nancy Chalmers, "the only uninhabited place within ten miles. That's
as near as he often hits it, I fancy."
"Heah's whah he stay," repeated the old man. "Heap ob trouble wait heah
fo' him too, honey,--heap ob trouble, heah whah li'l mistis fin' him."
His voice dropped to a monotone, and he began to rock gently to and fro
as if he were crooning a lullaby. "Li'l trouble en gr'et trouble! Fo'
dah's fiah en she ain' afeahd, en dah's watah en she ain' afeahd. It's
de thing whut eat de ha'at outen de breas'--dat whut she afeahd of!"
"Come, Anthony," said Judge Chalmers, laying his hand on the old man's
shoulder. "That's much too mournful! Give her something nice to top off
with, at least!"
But Anthony paid no heed, continuing his rocking and his muttering.
"Gr'et trouble. Dah's fiah en she ain' afeahd, en dah's watah en she
ain' afeahd. En Ah sees yo' gwine ter him, honey. Ah heah's de
co'ot-house clock a-strikin' in de night--en yo' gwine. Don' wait, don'
wait, li'l mis
|