Flash For Freedom!

That wasn't what they wanted, of course; they yelled and stamped and whistled, but the auctioneer got the bidding up to seventeen hundred before he nodded to her, and without a change of expression she shrugged her shoulders out of the dress, let it slip down, and stepped out as bare as a babe. By gad, I was proud of her as she stood there like a pale golden statue, in the dim light under the beams, with the mob goggling and roaring approval; the price ran up to twenty-five hundred dollars in less than a minute.

At that there were only two bidders left, a fancy-weskitted young dandy in a stove-pipe hat with his mouth open, and a grey-bearded planter in the front row with a red face and big panama hat, who had a little nigger boy behind his seat to fan him. I reckon Cassy got another thousand dollars out of those two, all on her own. She put one hand on her hip — twenty-seven hundred; then she put her hands behind her head — three thousand; she stirred her rump at the dandy — thirty-two hundred, and the planter shook his head, his face sweating. She looked straight down at him, grave-faced, and winked, the crowd yelled and cheered, and the dirty old goat slapped his thigh and bid thirtyfour. The dandy swore and looked sulky, but that was the bottom of his poke, evidently, for he turned away, and Cassy was knocked down to the other, amidst whoops and cries of obscene advice to him; he'd better send his wife away to visit her folks in Nashville for a spell, they shouted, and when she came back she could give him a decent burial, for he'd have killed himself by then, haw-haw.

'Wish I'd a wench like that every day,' says the little auctioneer, at paying-out time — you never saw such a heap of gold coin on one dirty deal table. 'I'd make my fortune. Say, if you'd given me time to advertise proper, we'd ha' had four, mebbe five thousand. Where d'you git her, Mr — eh — Howard?'

'As you said, she was a lady's maid — at my academy for gentlewomen,' says I gravely, and the crowd in his office roared and clapped me on the back and offered me swigs from their bottles; I was a card, they said.

I had no opportunity to see what happened to Cassy after she came down from the block; her buyer was obviously a local man, so presumably she wouldn't be taken far. For the hundredth time I found myself wondering how she was going to make her escapes and what I would do if she didn't come before steamboat time. I daren't leave without her, for fear she'd split. I would just have to wait, jumping at every shadow, no doubt. But in the meantime I had plenty to occupy myself with, and I set off for town, weil weighted down with my new-found wealth.

It was the deuce of a lot of cash to be carrying — or so I thought. I didn't know America well then, or I'd have realised that they don't think twice about carrying and dealing in sums that in England would be represented by a banker's draft. Odd, in such a wild country, but they like to have their cash about 'em, and don't mind killing in its defence.

The first thing I now did was to repair to the best tailor in town and buy myself some decent gear, and from there I made for a dressmakers, to do the like for Cassy. I've never numbered meanness with cash among my many faults, and I do like my women to have the very finest clothes to take off, and all the little vanities to go with 'em. There had been just north of three thousand dollars left when the auctioneer had taken his commission — a man could do worse than be a slave-knocker, it occurred to me-and I made a fine hole in them with my purchases; I spent probably twice on Cassy what I'd spent on myself, and didn't grudge it; the Creole woman who ran the shop was in a tremendous twitter, showing every gown she had, and the deuce of it was I could see Cassy looking peachy in every one.

In any event, I had two trunks full of gear which I ordered to be delivered to the levee, labelled to go aboard the Missouri that evening, and took only enough clothing away with me for us to look respectable when we went aboard. While I was doing my buying, I had the dressmaker send a nigger to buy the tickets — God, the tiny things that change one's life; if I'd gone in person, all would have been different. But there — he brought them back, and I stuffed them into the pocket of my new coat, and that was that.

The business of sitting back like a sultan, buying all the silks and satins in sight and gallantly chaffing Madame Threadneedle, had put me in excellent fettle, but as the afternoon wore away I began to feel less bobbish. My worries about Cassy's escape returned, and brandy didn't drive them away; I couldn't bring myself to eat anything, and finally I went back to my mean little room and busied myself removing Spring's papers from my old coat and stitching them into the waist-band of one of my new pairs of pants. After that I sat and chewed my nails, while seven o'clock went by, and then eight, and outside the rain pattered down in the dark, and I envisaged Cassy being overtaken in some dirty alley and hauled off to a cell, or being shot climbing a fence, or pulled down by hounds — give me leisure in my fearful moments and my imaginings can outrun Dante's any day.

I was standing staring at the candle guttering on its stand, feeling the gnawing certainty that she'd come adrift, when a scratching at the window had me leaping out of my skin. I whipped up the sash, and she slipped in over the sill, but my momentary delight was quickly snuffed when I saw the state she was in. She was plastered from head to foot with mud, her dress was reduced to a torn, sodden rag, her eyes were wild, and she was panting like a spent dog.

'They're after me!' she sobbed, slithering down against the wall; there was blood oozing through the mud from a cut on her foot. 'They spotted me slipping out of the pen, and like a fool I ran for it! Oh, oh! I should have waited! They'll rouse the section … find us … oh, quick, let us go now — at once, before they come!'

She might, as she said, be an experienced runner, but she wasn't up to Flashy's touch. 'Steady, and listen,' says I. 'Keep your voice low. How far behind are they?'

She sobbed for breath. 'I … don't know. They lost me, when I … doubled back. Oh, dear God! But they know I've run … they'll scour the town … take me again …' She lay back against the wall, exhausted.

'How long since you last heard 'em?'

'Oh, oh … five minutes … I don't know. But they have … dogs … track us here …'

'Not on a night like this, they won't, and certainly not through a town.' My mind was racing, but I was thinking well. Should I bolt and leave her? No, she'd talk for certain. Could we make the boat? Yes, if I could put her in order.

'Up,' says I, and hauled her to her feet. She sagged against me, weeping, and I had to hold her up. 'Now, listen, Cassy. We have time; they don't know where you are, and every hunt in Rutland couldn't nose you out here. We can't run until you're clean and dressed — we'd never get aboard the boat. Haste won't serve — when Mr and Mrs Montague step out on to that street to go to the levee, they'll go nice and sedate.' As I talked I was already sponging at her with the wet cloths I had ready. 'Now, rest easy while I get you shipshape.'

'I can't run any longer!' she sobbed. 'I can't!' She tossed her head from side to side, crying with fatigue. 'I just want to lie down and die!'

I went on towelling her, cleansing away the filth, whispering urgently all the while. We would make it, I told her, the boat was waiting, we were rotten with money, if we kept calm and went ahead without flinching we were bound to win free, I had bought her a wardrobe that would take Canada by storm — yes, Canada, I told her, the freedom road — an hour from now we would be steaming upriver, safe as sleep. I was trying to convince myself as much as her, as I sponged and dried away frantically, with one ear cocked for sounds of approaching pursuit.

It was tremendous work, because even when I had got her clean she just lay there, quite played out in mind and body, moaning softly to herself. I was almost in despair as I tried to haul clothes on to her; she just lay back in the chair, her golden body heaving — gad, she was a picture, but I'd no time to enjoy it. I struggled away, coaxing, pleading, swearing — 'come on, come on, you can't give up, Cassy, not a staunch girl like you, you stupid black bitch,' and finally I shook her and hissed in her ear: 'All you have to do is stand up and walk, confound it! Walk! We can't fail now — and you'll never have to call anyone 'massa' again!'

That was what did it, I think, for she opened her eyes and made a feeble effort to help. I egged her on, and we got her into the long coat, and adjusted the broad-brimmed bonnet and veil, and I jammed the shoes on her feet, and gloved her, and stuck the gamp in her hand — and when she managed to stand, leaning against the table, she looked as much like the outward picture of a lady as made no odds. No one would know there wasn't a stitch on her underneath.

I had to half-lead, half-drag her out of the back way, and there Was a feverish ten minutes while a nigger boy went and found a trap for us, and we waited crouched on the boardwalk against the wall, with the rain slashing down. But there was no sign of her pursuers; they must have lost her utterly, and presently we were rolling down to the levee through the mud and bustle of the Memphis waterfront, and there in the glare of the wharf lamps was the good ship Missouri, with her twin whistles blasting the warning of departure. I lorded it with the purser at the gangplank, explaining that I would take Madame directly to our state-room, as she was much fatigued, and he yes-sirred me all over the place, and roared up boys to escort us; everyone was too occupied with crying good-bye and stand clear and all aboard to notice that I was holding up the graceful veiled lady on my arm by