About noon he came upon a scene, which, though characteristic of the time and place, was rather a novel sight to a Northern man, and he stopped to view it with considerable interest. In a sunny spot near the river bank about a dozen negro laborers were gathered, their surroundings showing that they had just left off work for the enjoyment of their allotted hour of rest, at noon. Having finished their mid-day repast, they were now filling their time by indulging in a species of amusement peculiar to their race. On a pine log sat a jolly-looking old negro, whose hair was white as snow and whose face was black as ebony, grinning, and rolling his head from side to side, while he patted "Juba" with great energy and skill, on his knees, chest and head. The other darkies were dancing to the "music," and apparently enjoying the sport to an unlimited degree.
The detective was amused at the spectacle, but this feeling gave way to one of surprise and curiosity, as he looked more intently at the white-haired old man who was acting as _musician_. There was something strikingly familiar in those black, smiling features. Surely this was not the first time he had seen that face, or witnessed that tremendous grin. Where had he met this darky before?
Suddenly his recollection was quickened. The person in question was none other than Uncle Gallus, the servant of ex-Governor Morton, whom he had seen in my office at Washington, on the day that I had questioned him about his mistress. This fact was clear enough to Webster, but somewhat surprising, withal. He remembered that Uncle Gallus had, on that occasion, represented the Mortons as very indulgent slave-owners, who never permitted him to perform any hard labor; yet here he was, in the role of a common workman, employed upon the fortifications around Richmond.
Whatever had caused this change, however, it did not appear to weigh heavily upon the old darky, for at this moment he was in the very ecstasy of delight, as he patted inspiration into the nimble feet of his companions. The other darkies danced until their faces shone with perspiration, and the manner in which their loose-jointed limbs swung and wriggled, suggested the idea that those members were hung on pivots. They leaped and vaulted, and flung their heels in the airs, as if they were so many jumping-jacks and Uncle Gallus was pulling the string.