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 CHAPTER XXXIII

JACK AGROUND

Opening the door with a yawn, and stretching her arms like one lately roused from sleep, the Quadroon found herself face to face with the Coromantee, backed by nearly a score of negroes, the idlest and most dissolute slaves on the estate. All seemed more or less intoxicated, and Célandine, who knew the African character thoroughly, by no means liked their looks. She was aware that much disaffection existed in the plantation, and the absence of this disorderly gang from their work at so early an hour in the afternoon argued something like open revolt. It would have been madness, however, to show fear, and the Obi-woman possessed, moreover, a larger share of physical courage than is usual with her sex; assuming, therefore, an air of extreme dignity, she stationed herself in the doorway and demanded sternly what they wanted.

Hippolyte, who seemed to be leader of the party, doffed his cabbage-tree hat with ironical politeness, and pointing over his shoulder at two grinning negroes laden with plantains and other garden produce, came to business at once.

"We buy,—you sell, Missee Célandine. Same as store-*keeper down Port Welcome. Fust ask gentlemen step in, sit down, take something to drink."

There was that in his manner which made her afraid to refuse, and inviting the whole party to enter, she accommodated them with difficulty in the hut. Reviewing her assembled guests, the Quadroon's heart sank within her; but she was conscious of possessing cunning and courage, so summoned both to her aid.