the steps. His appearance struck me with
such an instant feeling of repugnance, that even after I was used to the
fellow, I never quite overcame that first involuntary shudder. He was
not a full-blooded negro but an octoroon. His color was a muddy yellow,
his features were sharp instead of flat, and his hair hung across his
forehead almost straight. But these facts alone did not account for his
queerness; the most uncanny thing about him was the color of his eyes.
They had a yellow glint and narrowed in the light. The creature was
bare-footed and wore a faded suit of linsey-woolsey; I wondered at that,
for the other servants who had crowded out to see me, were dressed in
very decent livery.

Radnor noticed my surprise, and remarked as he led the way up the
winding staircase, "Mose isn't much of a beauty, for a fact."

I made no reply as the man was close behind, and the feeling that his
eyes were boring into the middle of my back was far from pleasant. But
after he had deposited his load on the floor of my room, and, with a
sidewise glance which seemed to take in everything without looking
directly at anything, had shambled off again, I turned to Rad.

"What's the matter with him?" I demanded.

Radnor threw back his head and laughed.

"You look as if you'd seen the ha'nt! There's nothing to be afraid of.
He doesn't bite. The poor fellow's half witted--at least in some
respects; in others he's doubly witted."

"Who is he?" I persisted. "Where did he come from?"

"Oh, he's lived here all his life--raised on the place. We're as fond of
Mose as if he were a member of the family. He's my father's body servant
and he follows him around like a dog. We don't keep him dressed for the
part because shoes and stockings make him unhappy."

"But his eyes," I said. "What the deuce is the matter with his eyes?"

Radnor shrugged his shoulders.

"Born that way. His eyes _are_ a little queer, but if you've ever
noticed it, niggers' eyes are often yellow. The people on the place call
him 'Cat-Eye Mose.' You needn't be afraid of him," he added with another
laugh, "he's harmless."

CHAPTER III

I MAKE THE ACQUAINTANCE OF THE HA'NT

We had a sensation at supper that night, and I commenced to realize that
I was a good many miles from New York. In response to the invitation of
Solomon, the old negro butler, we seated ourselves at the table and
commenced on the cold dishes before us, while he withdrew to bring in
the hot