"Nary time," Jim strenuously denied; and, these little courtesies being
ended, they talked about enlistment, and home, and camp, and a score of
things that interested officer and man alike. In the midst of the confab
a dust was seen up the road, coming nearer, and presently out of it
appeared a family carriage somewhat dilapidated and worse for wear, but
still quite magnificent; enthroned on the back seat a fullblown F.F.V.
with rather more than the ordinary measure of superciliousness belonging
to his race; driven, of course, by his colored servant. Jim made for the
middle of the road, and, holding his bayonet in such wise as to threaten
at one charge horse, negro, and chivalry, roared out, "Tickets!"
At such an extraordinary and unceremonious demand the knight flushed
angrily, frowned, made an expressive gesture with his lips and his nose
which suggestively indicated that there was something offensive in the
air between the wind and his gentility, ending the pantomime by finding
a pass and handing it over to his "nigger," then--not deigning to
speak--motioned him and it to the threatening figure. As this black man
came forward, Brooks, looking at him a moment, cried excitedly, "By
Jove! it's Sam."
"No? Hunt's Sam?"
"Yes, the very same; and I suppose that's his cantankerous old master."
Surrey ran forward to Jim, for the three had fallen back when the
carriage came near, and said a few sentences to him quickly and
earnestly.
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