Ah guess
yo' mammies all done tole 'bout the African Voodoos, an' how ebery
now an' den one of 'em crops up still. An' Ah guess dat we've seen
to-night dat we've got a Voodoo among us. Now, Mr. Travis"--here he
turned to Ambrose--"we know what Aunt Belle Agassiz done on de
Mathis Plantation in Georgia--_you_ ought to know what Tom Blue did
in Texas. So we wants to warn you, as a fren' an' membah of dis club
in good standin', dat you better leave town to-night."
An assenting murmur arose from the crowd, with much rolling of eyes
and nodding of heads.
Ambrose held up his hand for silence. A serious expression came over
his features, and he towered tall and straight before them.
"Gennlemen," he said, "Ah sho appreciates yo' good sperit in dis
hyar unfo'tunate affair. But Ah tells you-all hyar an' now dat
Dominique Raffin ain't no mo' Voodoo den Ah is. Now, Ah ain't sayin'
dat he _ain't_ a Voodoo, an' Ah ain't sayin' dat Ah _am_ one. All Ah
says is dat Ah's as _much_ of a Voodoo as he is--an' Ah'm willin' to
prove it!"
"How you-all do dat, Ambrose?" asked somebody.
"Ah'm comin' to dat," replied Ambrose. "If you-all wants to decide
dis mattah beyont all doubt, Ah respekf'ly suggests dat we hold a
_see_-ance in dis hyar room, under any c'nditions dat you-all kin
d'vise.
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