serious? Nothing has happened to Benjamin, I hope? I know he has been bilious; but I gave him"—
"Oh! worser 'an a dat! worser? an a dat!" sobbed the negro. "Oh! de Lor! Miss 'Lizzy an a Miss Grant—walk—mountain—poor Bravy!—kill a lady—painter—Oh! Lor, Lor!—Natty Bumppo—tear he troat all open—come a see, masser Richard—such a booful copse—here he be—here he be."
As all this was perfectly inexplicable to the Sheriff, he was very glad to wait patiently until the black brought a lantern from the kitchen, when he followed Aggy to the kennel, where he beheld poor Brave, indeed, lying in his blood, stiff and cold, but decently covered with the great-coat of the negro. He was on the point of demanding an explanation; but the grief of the black, who had fallen asleep on his voluntary watch, having burst out afresh on his waking, utterly disqualified the lad from giving one. Luckily, at this moment the principal door of the house opened, and the coarse features of Benjamin were thrust over the threshold, with a candle elevated above them, shedding its dim rays around in such a manner as to exhibit the lights and shadows of his countenance. Richard threw his bridle to the black, and bidding him look to the horse, he entered the hall.
"What is the meaning of the dead dog?" he cried. "Where is Miss Temple?"
Benjamin made one of his square gestures, with the thumb of his left hand pointing over his right shoulder, as he answered—
"Turned in."
"Judge Temple where is he?"
"In his birth."
"But explain; why is Brave dead? and what is the cause of Aggy's grief?"
