the old servile fashion, fallen to imploring him, with touching forgetfulness of their real relations:
"O my marseter! O my marseter Solomon! Go 'way en save yo' life, en tek yo' po' ole niggah wid you!"
But his resolution was formed, and he refused to go. A hurried footstep paused beneath the window and a loud voice called up. The old nurse got up and went to the window. A man was standing by the cart at her door.
"For God's sake let me have this cart to take my wife and little children away to the country! There is not a vehicle to be had in town. I will pay you—" He stopped, seeing the distress on her face.
"Is he dead?" he asked, for he knew of her care of old King Solomon.
"He will die!" she sobbed. "Tilt de t'ings out on de pavement. I gwine t' stay wid 'im en tek cyah o' 'im."
III.
A little later, dressed once more in grotesque rags and carrying on his shoulder a rusty mattock and a rusty spade, old King Solomon appeared in the street below and stood looking up and down it with an air of anxious indecision. Then shuffling along rapidly to the corner of Mill Street, he turned up towards Alain.
Here a full sense of the terror came to him. A man, hurrying along with his head down, ran full against him and cursed him for the delay:
"Get out of my way, you old beast!" he cried. "If the cholera would carry you off it would be a blessing to the town."
