The Bondwoman Part 25

"I alles spishuned Mahs Duke know mo' 'bout my travels than he let on, fo' he jes' laughed when he see me an' say: 'All right, Nelse, I been looken' fo' you some time. Now if yo' done got yo' fill o' seen' the world, 'spose yo' go down an' look at the new colt I got, an' take yo'

ole place in the stable. Yo' jes' got back in time to spruce up the carriage team fo' my wedden'.

"Well, sah, yo' could a' knocked me down with a feathah. Mahs Duke was thirty-five, an' ovah, an' had kep' his own bachelor place fo' ten yeah, loose an' free. Then all at once a new family come down heah from Marylan'. They was the Mastersons, an' a Miss Bar'bra Vaughn come to visit them, an' it was all ovah with Mahs Duke. She jest won in a walk--that little lady.

"An' he done took her all the way to Orleans fo' wedden' trip. I didn't go 'long. I was done tired out with travel an' 'sides that, I'd been riden' ovah an' back to the Masterson plantation fo' Mahs Duke till I took up with a likely brown gal they fetched with them from up Nawth, an' of all n.i.g.g.ahs, Nawthen n.i.g.g.ahs is the off-scourins o' the yeath--copy aftah theh masters, I reckon, fo' all the real, double-distilled quality folks I met up with in all my travels were gentlemen o' the South, sah. Yes, sah, they may breed good quality somewheahs up theah, but all o' them sent down heah as samples ain't nowhars with the home-bred article, sah.

"But I didn't know all that them days, an' that Cynthy o' Mistah Masterson's look mighty peart an' talk mighty knowen', an' seem like as we both hed travelled considerable we both hed a heap of talk 'bout; an' the upshot of it was I felt boun' an' sot to buy that gal, if so be they'd give me a fair chance an' plenty o' time. Well, sah, I talk it ovah with Mahs Duke, an' he fix it so I can have Cynthy fo'

three hundred dollars.

"Seem like it's a mighty small price to ask fo' a likely young gal like her, but I so conjured with the notion o' buyen' her I nevah stopped to study into the reasons why o' things, special as I had part o' the money right by me to pay; a pocket full o' money gets a man into mo' trouble mostly than an empty one.

"Well, sah, I hadn't owned her no time, till I was mo' sot in my mind than evah as how freedom was a hoodoo. If I hadn't been free I'd nevah took the notion to have a free wife o' my own, an' I'd a been saved a lot o' torment, _I_ tell yo'.

"She jest no good no how--that Cynthy. How they got work out o' her ovah on the Masterson plantation I don't know, fo' _I_ couldn't. Think she'd even cook vittels fo' her own self if she could help it? No, sah! She too plum lazy. She jes' had a notion that bein' free meant doen' nothen' 'tall fo' no body. It needed a whole meeten' house full o' religion to get along with that gal, 'thout cussen' at her, an' as I'd done trained in the race course an' not in a pulpit, seem like I noways fit for the 'casion. But I devilled along with her for three yeahs, and she had two boys by that time--didn't make no sort o'

difference. She got worse 'stead o' better o' her worthlessness, but I tried to put up with it till she jest put the cap sheaf on the hull business by getten' religion up thah in the gum tree settlement, an' I drew the line at that, _I_ tell yo.' Thah she was, howlen' happy every night in the week 'long-side o' Brother Peter Mosely. Brother Mosely's wife didn't seem to favah their religion no more'n I did; so, seen' as I couldn't follow roun' aftah her with a hickory switch, an' couldn't keep her home or at work no othah way, I just got myself a divorce, an' settled down alone on a patch o' lan' I bought o' Mahs Duke, an' I kep' on looken' aftah his stables long as he kept any. He died just afore young Mahs Tom married Miss Leo Masterson."

"But what of the divorce? Did it improve her religion or cure her laziness?" asked Delaven, who found more of novelty in the black man's affairs than the master's.

"Who--Cinthy? I just sold her right back to Mistah John Masterson fo'

twenty-five dollar less than I paid, an' the youngsters they went into the bargain; fo' I tell yo', sah, them Nawthen n.i.g.g.ahs is bad stock to manage--if they's big or little; see what happened that Steve o' hern; done run off, he has, an' him ole enough to know bettah. Oh, yes, sah, I up an' I sold the whole batch; that how come I get my money back fo'

her, an' stock my little patch o' groun'. Yes, sah, she got scared an'

settle down when I done sold her back again. Mahs Masterson he got mo'

work out o' her than I could; he knew mo' 'bout managen' them Nawthen n.i.g.g.ahs."

"Wouldn't he be a find for those abolitionists?" asked Evilena, laughing. "Nelse, you've been very entertaining, and if your Miss Gertrude needs you to stay about the place we'll steal hours to hear about old times."

"Thanky, Miss Lena; yo' servant, sah; it sartainly does do me good to get in heah an' see all these heah faces again--mighty fine they are.

I mind when some o' them was painted. Mahs Duke's was done in Orleans; so was Miss Bar'bra, it's in the parlah. But Mahs Tom--he had an artis' painter come down from Wash'nton to do Miss Gertrude's, once when she just got ovah sick spell--he scared lest she die an' nevah have no likeness; her ma, she died sudden that-a-way. We all use to think it bad luck to get likenesses; I nevah had none; Mahs Matt nevah had none; an' we're a liven' yet. All the rest had 'em took an' wheah are they?"

"Now, Uncle Nelse, you don't mean to say it shortens people's lives to have their picture taken?"

"Don't like to say, Miss Lena, but curious things do happen in this world. That artist man, his name, Mistah Madden, he made Mahs Tom's likeness, an' Mahs Tom got killed! An' all time Mahs Tom's likeness was bein' done, an' all time Miss Gertrude's was a doin', that Mistah Madden he just go 'stracted to paint one o' Retta to take 'way with him. All the n.i.g.g.ahs jest begged her not to let him, but she only laughed--she laughed most o' the time them days; an' Mahs Tom he sided with Mistah Madden, so she give consent, an' he painted two--one monstrous big one to take 'way with him, an' then a teeny one fo' a breastpin; he give it to Retta 'cause she set still an' let him make the big one. An' now what happened? Within a yeah Mahs Tom, he was killed, an' Retta Caris, she about died o' some crazy brain fever, an'

it was yeahs afore she knew her own name again; yes, went 'wildered like--she did; an' that's what two likenesses done to my sutain knowledge."

"Then I've hoodooed Dr. Delaven, for I made a pencil picture of him only this morning."

"And if I should fall down stairs, or into the Salkahatchie, you will know the primal reason for it."

Old Nelse shook his head at such frivolity.

"Jes' 'cause you all ain't afraid don't take yo' no further off danger," he said, soberly. Then he followed Evilena to the kitchen, where his entrance was greeted with considerable respect. When Nelse appeared at Loringwood in his finest it was a sort of state affair in the cook house. He was an honored guest with the grown folks, because the grandeurs he had witnessed and could tell of, and he was a cause of dread to the pickaninnies who were often threatened with banishment to the Unc. Nelse glade, and they firmly believed he immediately sold all the little darkies who put foot in his domain.

"Isn't he delightfully quaint?" asked the girl, rejoining Delaven.

"Gertrude never does seem to find him interesting; but I do. She has been used to him always, of course, and I haven't, and she thinks it was awful for him to sell Cynthia, just because she got religion and would not behave. Now, I think it's funny; don't you?"

"Your historian has given me so many side-lights on slavery that I'm dazzled with the brilliancy of them; whether serious or amusing, it is astonis.h.i.+ng."

"Only to strangers," said the girl; "to us they are never puzzling; they are only grown-up children--even the wisest--and need to be managed like children. Those crazy abolitionists should hear Nelse on the 'hoodoo' of freedom; I fancy he would astonish them."

"Not the slightest doubt of it," agreed Delaven, who usually did agree with Evilena--except when argument would prolong a tete-a-tete.

CHAPTER XIV.

Gertrude promptly a.s.sured old Nelse that the plantation needed no extra caretakers just then, the work was progressing very well since their return. Nelse swept the jockey cap over his feet in a profound bow, and sauntered around the house. The mistress of Loringwood asked Evilena to see if he had gone to his canoe. She did so, and reported that he had gone direct to the stables, where he had looked carefully over all the horses, and found one threatened with some dangerous ailment requiring his personal ministrations. He had announced his intention of staying right there until that horse was "up an' doin'

again." At that minute he was seated on a half bushel measure as on a throne from which he was giving his orders, and all the young n.i.g.g.e.rs were fairly flying to execute them.

"It is no use, Gertrude," said Mrs. Nesbitt, with a sigh; "as soon as I saw that vest and your grandfather's coat with the bra.s.s b.u.t.tons, I knew Nelse had come to stay a spell, and stay he will in spite of us."

Which statement gave the man from Dublin another sidelight on the race question!

One of the servants announced a canoe in sight, coming from up the river, and antic.i.p.ating a probable addition to their visitors, Delaven escaped by a side door, until the greetings were over, and walking aimlessly along a little path back from the river, found it ended at a group of pines surrounded by an iron railing, enclosing, also, the high, square granite and marble abodes of the dead. It was here Nelse had pointed when telling of Tom Loring's sudden death and burial.

He opened the gate, and as he did so noticed a woman at the other side of the enclosure. Remembering how intensely superst.i.tious the colored folks were said to be, he wondered at one of them coming alone into the grove so nearly darkened by the dense covering of pine, and with only the ghostly white of the tombs surrounding her.

He halted and stood silent beside a tree until she arose and turned towards the gate, then he could see plainly the clear, delicate profile of the silent Margeret. Of all the people he had met in this new country, this quiet, pale woman puzzled him most. She seemed to compel an atmosphere of silence, for no one spoke of her. She moved about like a shadow in the house, but she moved to some purpose, for she was a most efficient housekeeper, even the pickaninnies from the quarters--saucy and mischievous enough with any one else--were subdued when Margeret spoke.

After she had pa.s.sed out of the gate he went over where he had seen her first. Two tombs were side by side, and of the same pattern; a freshly plucked flower lay on one. He read the name beneath the flower; it was, _Thomas Loring, in the thirtieth year of his age_; the other tomb was that of his wife, who had died seven years earlier.

But it was on Tom Loring's tomb the blossom had been laid.

Was it merely an accident that it was the marble on which the fragrant bit of red had been let fall? or--

He walked slowly back to the house, feeling that he had touched on some story more strange than any Evilena had asked him to listen to of the old days, and this one was vital, human, fascinating.

He wondered who she was, yet felt a reluctance to ask. To him she appeared a white woman. Yet an intangible something in Miss Loring's manner to her made him doubt. He remembered hearing Matthew Loring on the voyage complain many times that Margeret would have arranged things for his comfort with more foresight than was shown by his attendants, but when he had reached Loringwood, and Margeret gave silent, conscientious care to his wants, there was never a word of praise given her. He--Delaven--felt as if he was the only one there who appreciated her ministrations; the others took them as a matter of course.

He saw old Nelse hitching along, with his queer little walk, coming from the direction of the stables. He motioned to him, and seated himself on a circular bench, backed by a great, live oak, and facing the river. Nelse proved that his sight was good despite his years, for he hastened his irregular shuffle and drew near, cap in hand.

"Did the canoe from up the river bring visitors?" asked Delaven, producing one cigar which he lighted, and another which he presented to the old man, who received it with every evidence of delight.

"I can't even so much as recollect when I done put my hands on one o'

these real Cubas; I thank yo' kindly, sah. We all raise our own patches o' tobacco, and smoke it in pipes dry, so! an' in course by that-a-way we 'bleeged to 'spence with the julictious flavor o' the Cubas. No, sah; ain't no visitors; just Mrs. McVeigh's man, Pluto, done fetched some letters and Chloe--Chloe's cook, heah--she tell me she reckon Miss Gertrude try get Mahstah Matt to go up there fo' good 'fore long, fo' Mrs. McVeigh, she comen' home from Mobile right away, now; done sent word. An' Miss Lena, she jest in a jubilee ovah the letter, fo' her ma gwine fotch home some great quality folks a visiten'. Judge Clarkson, he plan to start in the mawnen' for Savannah, he gwine meet 'em there."

"And in the meantime we can enjoy our tobacco; sit down. I've been so much interested in your stories of long ago that I want to ask you about one of the present time."

The smile of Nelse broadened. He felt he was appreciated by Miss Gertrude's guests, even though Miss Gertrude herself was not particularly cordial. He squatted on the gra.s.s and waited while Delaven took two or three puffs at his cigar before speaking again.

"Now, in the first place, if there is any objection to answering my question, I expect you to tell me so; you understand?" Nelse nodded solemnly, and Delaven continued:

"I have one of the best nurses here that it has ever been my luck to meet. You spoke of her today as in someway deprived of her senses for a long time. I can't quite understand that, for she appears very intelligent. I should like to know what you meant."

"I reckon o' course the p.u.s.s.en to who you pintedly make reference is Retta," said the old man, after a pause.

"You are the only one I've heard call her that--the rest call her Margeret."