'Listen,' she said. 'You want to escape?'
I couldn't believe my ears. 'Escape? I —'
'Quiet, in heaven's name! Now, listen. If I can show you how to escape — will you make me a promise?'
'Anything! My God, anything!'
The great almond eyes stared into mine. 'Don't protest too easily — I mean what I say. Will you swear, by all that you believe to be holy, that if I help you escape, you will never desert me — that you will help me, in my turn, to gain my freedom?'
I'd have sworn a good deal more than that. With hope surging through me, I whispered. 'I swear — I promise! I'll do anything. No, I'll never desert you, I swear it!'
She stared at me a moment longer, and then glanced towards, the door.
'Soon now they will bring our food. When they do, you will be making love to me — do you understand?'
I couldn't follow this, but I nodded, feverish with excitement. In a whisper she went on:
'When they see us, whatever they say, defy them. Do you understand me? Taunt them, swear at them — anything! Then leave the rest to me. Whatever I do or say, do nothing further.'
'What are you going to do? What can I —'
'Quiet!' She started up. 'They're coming, I think. Now — over there, where they'll see us.'
And as footsteps came round to the back of the cart she sprawled into the middle of the floor, dragging up her dress, and pulling me down on top of her. Trembling, and for once not for the usual reasons, I clung to the pliant body, crushing my mouth down on hers and plunging like mad — gad, as I look back, what a waste of good effort it was, in the circumstances. I heard the hatch flung open, and in that moment Cassy writhed and began to sob in simulated ecstasy, clawing at me and squealing. There was an oath and commotion at the hatch, and then a cry of:
'Tom! Tom! Come quick! That damned Texian feller, he's screwin' the wench!'
More commotion, and then Little's voice:
'What you think you're doin', blast ye? Get offa her, this minute! Get off, d'ye hear, or I'll fill yore ass with buckshot!'
I bawled an obscenity at him, and then there was a rattling at the lock, the door was flung wide, to the gathering dusk, and Little glared in, his piece levelled at me. I decided I had defied him sufficiently, and rolled away; Cassy scrambled up into a reclining position.
'Damn you!' bawls Little. 'Don't you never get enough?'
I stayed mum, while he cursed at me, his pal staring pop-eyed over his shoulder. And then Cass, shrugging her shoulders petulantly and moving to display her fine long legs, remarked:
'Why can't you let us be? What's the harm in it?'
Little's piggy little eyes went over her; he licked his lips, still keeping his gun pointed at me.
'Harm in it?' His voice was thick. 'You ol' Forster's wench, ain't you? Think you can rattle with everyone you please? Not while I'm around, my gel. You dirty nigger tail, you!'
She shrugged again, pouting, and spoke in a voice very unlike her own.
'Ifn massa say. Cassy don' mind none, anyways. This feller ain't bait for a gel like me — I used to real men.'
Little's eyes opened wide. 'Is that a fact?' His loose bearded mouth opened in a grin. 'Well, think o' that, now. I didn't know you was thataway inclined, Cass — fancy yellow gel like you, with all them lady airs.' He was thinking as he talked, and there was no doubting what those thoughts were. 'Well, now — you just come out o' that cart this minute, d'ye hear? You —' this was to me— 'keep yourself mighty still, lessn you want a bellyfull o' lead. Come on, my gel, git your ass outa that wagon — smart!'
Cassy slid herself to the tail of the cart, while they watched her closely, and dropped lightly to the ground. I stayed where I was, my heart hammering. Little motioned with his gun, and the other fellow slammed and locked the door, leaving me in darkness. But I could hear their voices, plain enough.
'Now, then, Cass,' says Little. 'You step roun' there, lively now. So — now, you jus' shuck down, d'ye hear?' There was a pause, and then Cassy's new voice:
'Massa gwine ter be nice to Cassy? — Cassy a good gel, please massa ever so much.'
'By God, an' so ye will! Look at that, George — here, you hol' the gun! An' make yourself scarce. By gosh, I'm goin' to 'tend to this li'l beauty right here an' now! What you waitin' for, George — you get outa here!'
'Don' I get none o' her, then? Don' I even get to watch?'
'Watch? Why, how you talk! Think I'm a hog, or a nigger, that I'd do my screwin' with you watchin'? Get outa here, quick! You'll get your piece when I'm done. Here, gimme back that gun — reckon I'll keep it by, case her ladyship gits up to anythin'. But you won't, honey, will you?'
I heard George's reluctant footsteps retreating, and then silence; I strained my ears, but could hear nothing through the wagon side. A minute passed, and then there was a sudden sharp gasp, and a thin whining sound half-way between a sigh and a wail, and the sound of it made the hairs rise on my neck. A moment later, and Cassy's voice in sudden alarm:
'Mas' George, Mas' George! Come quick! Suthin' happen to Mas' Tom — he hurt himself! Come quick!'
'What's that?' George's voice sounded from a little way off, and I heard his feet running. 'What you say — what happened, Tom? You all right, Tom? What —'
The gunshot crashed out with startling suddenness, near the back of the wagon; there was a scream and a choking groan, and then nothing, until I heard the padlock rattle, the door was flung back, and there was Cassy. Even in the dusk I could see she was naked; she still had the musket in her hand.
'Quickly!' she cried. 'Come out! They're both done for!'
I was out, fetters and all, in a twinkling. George lay spreadeagled at my feet, the top half of his face a bloody mash — she had given him the buckshot at point-blank range. I looked round and saw Little, crouched on his knees by the camp-fire, his head down; even as I started toward's him he rolled over, with a little bubbling sob, and I saw the knife hilt sticking out of the crimson soaking mess that stained his shirt. He twitched for a moment, bubbling, and then was still.
Cassy was at the wagon, holding weakly to the door, her head hanging. I hopped over to her, grabbed her round the waist and swung her off her feet.
'Oh, you wonderful nigger!' I shouted, spinning her round. 'You little black beauty, you! Bravo! Two at one stroke, by George! Well done indeed!' And I kissed her gleefully.
'Set me down!' she gasped. 'In God's name, set me down!'
So I put her down, and she shuddered and sank to the ground, all of a heap. For a moment I thought she'd fainted, but she was a prime girl, that one. With her teeth chattering she grabbed up her dress, pulling it down over her head, which seemed a pity, for she cut a truly splendid figure in the firelight. I patted her on the shoulder, telling her what a brave wench she was.
'Oh, God!' says she, with her eyes tight shut. 'Oh, horrible! I didn't know … what it was like … when I drew the knife from his belt and …' She put her face in her hands and sobbed.
'Serve him right,' says I. 'You've done him a power of good. And the other one, too — couldn't have done better myself, by jove, no, I couldn't! You're a damned good-plucked 'un, young Cassy, and you may tell 'em that Tom Arnold said so!'
But she sat there, shivering, so I wasted no more time but searched Tom's pockets for the keys to our fetters, and soon had us both loose. Then I went through their pockets, but apart from fifteen dollars there was nothing worth a curse. I stripped George's body, because it struck me that he was about my size, and his togs might come in handy. Then I looked to their guns — one musket, two pistols, with powder and ball — saw that the wagon horse was all to rights, and all the time my heart was singing inside me. I was free again, thanks to that splendid nigger wench. By gum, I admired that girl, and still do — she'd have made a rare mate for my old Sergeant Hudson — and while I heated up some coffee and vittles left by the late unlamented, I told her what I thought of her.
She was crouched by the fire, staring straight ahead of her, but now she seemed to shake herself out of her trance, for she threw back that lovely Egyptian head and looked at me. 'You remember your promise?' says she, and I assured her I did — assured her twenty times over. I can see her now, those wonderful almond eyes watching me while I prattled on, praising her resource and courage-it was a strange meal that, a runaway slave girl and I,
