the hour of eight
In her fancy she beheld Dr. Lacey at her feet , with his handsome person , princely fortune , and magnificent home near New Orleans , while off in the dim distance loomed up a dark coffin , in which was the cold , pale form of one whom she knew too well . Was her dream an omen of the coming future ? We shall see . Next morning just as the town clock rang out the hour of eight , a strange-looking vehicle , to which was attached a remarkably poor-looking horse , was seen picking its way slowly through the upper part of Main street , Frankfort . The driver of this establishment was a negro boy , whom we readily recognize as our friend Ike . He was taking it leisurely through the town , stopping before every large `` smart '' looking house to reconnoiter , and see if it resembled the one his master had described . At last he was accosted by a young African , who called out , `` Ho , thar , old boy !