The attorney was in sore tribulation at the unexpected turn
affairs had taken, and the future did not present a very encouraging
aspect. Of the mulatto'a present intentions he could gain no idea. The
long rope he had brought with him looked ominous, and a shudder passed
through his frame as he considered the uses to which it might be
applied. As he regarded the cool proceedings of his jailer, the worst
anticipations crowded upon him. The mulatto looked like a demon of the
inquisition to his guilty soul. But, tortured as he was by the most
terrible forebodings, he still preserved his dignified scowl, and
watched the operations of Hatchie with apparent coolness.
Hatchie examined the lock upon the carpet-bag, and found that it
entirely secured the contents from observation.
"I will trouble you for the key of this bag," said he, politely, as he
rose and approached the attorney.
"What mean you, fellow? Would you rob me?" exclaimed Maxwell.
"Not at all, sir; do not alarm yourself. The key, if you please. In
which pocket is it?"
Hatchie approached, with the intention of searching his prisoner.
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