It's not true, my friends; don't believe a word of it.

Now, Munro, how can you speak so?
Hob--Hob--Hob--I say--where the devil are you?
Hob--say, you rascal, was I within five miles of the Catcheta pass to-day ?" The negro, a black of the sootiest complexion, now advanced:-- "No, maussa." "Was I yesterday ?" The negro put his finger to his forehead, and the lawyer began to fret at this indication of thought, and, as it promised to continue, exclaimed-- "Speak, you rascal, speak out; you know well enough without reflecting." The slave cautiously responded-- "If maussa want to be dere, maussa dere--no 'casion for ax Hob." "You black rascal, you know well enough I was not there--that I was not within five miles of the spot, either to-day, yesterday, or for ten days back!" "Berry true, maussa; if you no dere, you no dere.

Hob nebber say one ting when maussa say 'noder." The unfortunate counsellor, desperate with the deference of his body-servant, now absolutely perspired with rage; while, to the infinite amusement of all, in an endeavor to strike the pliable witness, who adroitly dodged the blow, the lawyer, not over-active of frame, plunged incontinently forward, and paused not in his headlong determination until he measured himself at length upon the ground.

The laugh which succeeded was one of effectual discomfiture, and the helpless barrister made good his retreat from a field so unpromising by a pursuit of the swift-footed negro, taking care not to return from the chase.
Colleton, who had regarded this interlude with stern brow and wrathful spirit, now spoke, addressing Munro:-- "You affirm most strongly for this villain, but your speech is vain if its object be to satisfy my doubts.

What effect it may have upon our hearers is quite another matter.