I held de pole on de rock way up yander on de hill, an' in
dat berry rock Marsa John done cut a crotch."
"And which way is the crotch in the rock from the marsh here?" asked
Fitz eagerly.
Chad stood up, looked at the plan glistening under the candlelight,
paused an instant, then took off the gold-rimmed glasses, and handed
them with great deference to Fitz.
"'T ain't no use, Marsa George. I kin go frough dat ma'sh blindfolded
in de night an' cotch a possum airy time along airy one ob dem
fences;but dis yer foolin' wid lan's on paper is too much for Chad. 'Fo'
Gawd,
I doan' know!"
CHAPTER XI
_Chad on his own Cabin Floor_
The night after the eventful dinner in Bedford Place, the colonel,
accompanied by his guests, had alighted at a dreary way station, crawled
into a lumbering country stage, and with Chad on the box as pilot, had
stopped before a great house with ghostly trailing vines and tall
chimneys outlined against the sky.
When I left my room on the following morning the sunlight was pouring
through the big colonial window, and the breath of the delicious day,
laden with the sweet smell of bending blossoms, floated in through the
open blinds.
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