at! Carl! Carl! dat you? What you doin' dar? massy sakes!" said Toby.

"I've got a prisoner," said Carl.

"Dead! O de debil!" said Toby.

"I've knocked him on the head a little, but he is not dead," said Carl.
"Be still, for there's forty more vithin hearing!"

Toby, with mouth agape, and hands on knees, crouching, looked in the
face of the lifeless man. That jaunty mustache, with the blood from the
nostrils trickling into it, was unmistakable.

"Dat Sprowl!" ejaculated the old negro, with horrified recoil.

"He won't hurt you! Take holt! I pelief Ropes is coming, mit his men,
now!"

"Le' 'm drap, den. Wha' ye totin' on him fur?"

Carl had quite recovered from his stupefaction. His wits were clear
again. Why did he not leave the body? His reasons against such a course
were too many to be enumerated on the spot to Toby. In the first place,
he had promised to take the captain to the cave; and he felt a stubborn
pride in keeping his engagement. Secondly, the man might die if he
abandoned him. Moreover, the troops arriving, and finding him, would
know at once what had happened; while, on the contrary, if both Carl and
the captain should be missing, it would be supposed that they had gone
to make observations in another quarter; they would be waited for, and
thus much time would be gained.

Carl had all these arguments in his brain. But instead of stopping to
explain anything, he once more, and alone, lifted the head and shoulders
of the limp man, and recommenced bearing him along.

"Toby, who is that?"

"Dat am Miss Salina."

Carl asked no explanations. "Vimmen scream sometimes. Tell her she is
not to scream. You get her handkersheaf. And do not say it is Shprowl."

"Who--what is it?" Salina inquired.

"Our Carl! don't ye know?" said Toby. "He's got one ob dem secesh he's
knocked on de head."

"Has he killed him?"

"Part killed him, and part took him prisoner,--about six o' one and half
a dozen o' tudder. He say you's specfully 'quested not to scream; and he
wants your hank'cher."

"What does he want of it?"--giving it.

"Dat he best know hisself; but if my 'pinion am axed, I should say, to
wipe de fellah's nose wiv."

Having delivered this profound judgment, Toby carried the handkerchief
to Carl, who spread it over the wounded man's face.

"That prewents her seeing him, and prewents his seeing the vay to the
cave."

"Who eber knowed you's sech a powerful smart chil'?" said old Toby,
amazed.

A