"What a night!" Custis exclaimed; "the jail burned, the lightning
appalling, and I thought I heard firearms, too."
Judge Custis heard Clayton say, as he entered the room:
"So ole Derrick Molleston, Aunt Braner, asked you about my dinner, did
he? And it's Bill Greenley that burned the jail? Goy! And the black
people licked the kidnappers at Cowgill House?"
"Dat dey did, praise de Lord!" ejaculated Aunt Braner, fervently.
Clayton turned to a young man at the table, now dressed in a good clean
suit of clothes, and said, as the old cook left the room:
"Now, friend Dennis, tell your tale. Goy!"
The boy, whom the Judge was startled to recognize, at once began:
"Jedge Custis, the kidnapper man you left in the kitchen has stole Aunt
Hominy and your little niggers. They was at Johnson's Cross-roads last
night. Maybe they's gone before this. My boat was hired to take 'em off,
and I had to come along, but I run away from the band and give warnin'
last night to Mr. Clayton yer."
Before the Judge could reply, Clayton exclaimed,
"Now, Brother Custis, permit me now! Let my noble old constituent and
fellow-Whig, Jonathan Hunn, resume!"
"Friend," spoke out a wiry, lean, healthy-skinned man, "this young man
surprised me last night with intelligence that thy Maryland friends were
marching on the very capital of Delaware, to steal men. I was out in the
road at that late hour for another Christian purpose, and the Lord
rewarded me with this good one: I brought friend Dennis to John
Clayton's back door, and he lent us all his firearms.
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