She went upstairs. For a long time the body lay alone on the floor in the parlor. Later Cora heard Sam and Livonia weeping and shouting in the kitchen, and Negro voices outside in the dark, and feet going down the road. She thought she heard the baying of hounds afar off, too, as she prepared a hiding place for Bert in the attic. Then she came down to her room and put the most beautiful quilts she had on her bed. “Maybe he’ll just want to rest here first,” she thought. “Maybe he’ll be awful tired and just want to rest.”

Then she heard a loud knock at the door, and white voices talking, and Sam’s frightened answers. The doctor and the undertakers had come to take the body away. In a little while she heard them lifting it up and putting it in the dead wagon. And all the time, they kept talking, talking.

“…’ll be havin’ his funeral in town…ain’t nothin’ but niggers left out here…didn’t have no relatives, did he, Sam?…Too bad…. Nobody to look after his stuff tonight. Every white man’s able to walk’s out with the posse…that young nigger’ll swing before midnight…what a neck-tie party!…Say, Sam!”

“Yes, sah! Yes, sah!”

“…that black housekeeper, Cora?…murderin’ bastard’s mother?”

“She’s upstairs, I reckon, sah.”

“…like to see how she looks. Get her down here.”

“Yes, sah!” Sam’s teeth were chattering.

“And how about a little drink before we start back to town?”

“Yes, sah! Cora’s got de keys fo’ de licker, sah.”

“Well, get her down, double quick, then!”

“Yes, sah!” Cora heard Sam coming up for her.

Downstairs, the voices went on. They were talking about her…lived together…ain’t been a white woman here overnight since the wife died when I was a kid…bad business, though, livin’ with a,” in drawling cracker tones, “nigger.”

As Cora came down the steps, the undertakers looked at her half-grinning. “So you’re the black wench that’s got these educated darkie children? Hum-m! Well I guess you’ll see one of ’em swinging full o’ bullet holes before you get up in the morning…. Or maybe they’ll burn him. How’d you like a roasted darkie for breakfast, girlie?”

Cora stood quite still on the stairs. “Is that all you wanted to say to me?” she asked.

“Now, don’t get smart,” the doctor said. “Maybe you think there’s nobody to boss you now. We’re goin’ to have a little drink before we go. Get out a bottle.”

“I take ma orders from Colonel Norwood, suh,” Cora said.

“Well, you’ll take no more orders from him,” the undertaker declared. “He’s outside in the dead wagon. Get along now and get out a bottle.”

“He’s out yonder with de mob,” Cora said.

“I tell you he’s in my wagon, dead as a door nail.”

“I tell you he’s runnin’ with de mob,” Cora said.

“I believe this black woman’s done gone nuts,” the doctor cried. “Sam, you get the licker.”

“Yes, sah!” Sam sputtered with fright. “Co-r-r-ra, gimme…”