Flash For Freedom!

'I doubt if that's the Kentucky militia,' says Lincoln. 'Better be going, Buck.'

Buck stood livid, still hesitating; then with a curse he swung about and stumped to the door. He turned again there, dark with passion, and pointed a shaking finger.

'I'll be back!' says he. 'Don't you doubt it, mister — I'll be back, an' I'll have the law with me! We'll see about this, by thunder! I'll get the law!'

They clattered down the steps, Buck swearing at the others, and as the door closed and the exclamations started flying, Lincoln turned and looked down at me. His forehead was just a little damp.

'The ancients, in their wisdom, made a great study of rhetoric,' says he. 'But I wonder did they ever envisage Buck Robinson? Yes, they probably did.' He pursed his lips. 'He's a big fellow, though — likely big fellow, he is. I — I think I'd sooner see Cicero square up to him behind the barn than me. Yes, I rather think I would.' He adjusted his coat and cracked his knuckles. 'And now, Mr Comber — ?'

13

I've been wounded several times, all of them damned painful, but you may take my word for it that a ball in the bum is the worst. By the time that ham-fisted sawbones had hauled it out I was weak and weeping, and my immediate recuperation wasn't eased by the fact that Judge Payne and Lincoln agreed that Cassy and I must be spirited out of the house without delay, in case Buck and his friends returned with an officer and a warrant. With two men to support me and my buttocks in a sling I was helped about half a mile to another establishment, where I gathered the folk were red-hot abolitionists, and put to bed face down.

Of course I had already given a rough account of what had happened, in answer to the questions they fired at me after Buck had gone. The Judge wasn't concerned with anything but the events of the last few hours, and was full of praise for my daring and endurance, while his wife, the ugly little woman, and the other females made much of Cassy, and called her a poor dear, and clucked over her cuts and bruises. They were all stout antislavers, of course, as I'd guessed they would he, and would you believe it, while that blasted doctor was probing and muttering over my bottom, the women downstairs actually sang 'Now Israel may say and that truly', with harmonium accompaniment. This to celebrate what Judge Payne called our deliverance, and the others cried 'Amen', and were furious in their wrath against these vile slave-traffickers who hounded poor innocents with dogs and guns — 'and she such a sweet and refined young thing — oh, my land, the pity of her poor bruised limbs.' You ought to see her with a knife sometime, thinks I, or stripping for the buyers. And for me they had nothing but blessings and commiseration for my torn arse, which the Judge called an honourable scar, taken in the defence of liberty. Lincoln stood in the background, watching under his brows.

But when they had taken us to the new house, and I had been tucked up in bed, he came along, very patient, and begged our hosts for a little time alone with me.

'I'm afraid the good people of Portsmouth will have to do without me this evening,' says he. 'They might find my presence in public somewhat embarrassing. Anyway, one successful speech in a day is quite enough.' So they left us, and he sat down beside the bed, with his tall hat between his feet.

'Now, sir,' says he, pointing that formidable head of his at me, 'may I hear from you at some length? I last parted from a respectable British naval officer in Washington; tonight I meet a wounded fugitive running an escaped slave across the Ohio. I'm not only curious, you understand — I'm also a legislator of my country,⁴¹ a maker and guardian of its laws which, on your behalf, I suspect I have broken fairly comprehensively this night. I feel I'm entitled to an explanation. Pray begin, Mr Comber.'

So I did. There was no point in lying, much; I hadn't time for invention, anyway, and he would have seen through it. So from New Orleans on I told him the truth — Crixus, my escape with Randolph, what happened on the steamboat, the Mandevilles, the slave cart and Cassy, Memphis, and our eventual flight. I kept out the spicy bits, of course, and Mandeville's barbarous treatment of me I explained by pretending that Omohundro had turned up at Greystones with searchers and identified me — that was how they treated underground railroad men in the south, I said. He listened attentively, saying nothing, the bright eyes never leaving my face. When I had finished he sat silent a long while, studying. Then he said:

'Well,' and then a long pause. 'That's quite a story.' Another pause. 'Yes, sir, that is quite a story.' He coughed. 'Haven't heard anything to touch it since last time I was in the Liberal Club. There's — nothing you wish to add to it — at all? No detail you may have, uh, overlooked?'

'That is all, sir,' says I wondering.

'I see. I see. No, no, I just thought — oh, a balloon flight over Arkansas, or perhaps an encounter with pirates and alligators in the bayous of Louisiana — you know —'

I demanded, did he not believe me?

'On the contrary, I don't doubt it for a moment — more or less, anyway. No, I believe you, sir — my expressions of astonishment are really a tribute to you. In America, as in most other places, it's only the truth that we find hard to believe. No — it's not what you've told me, but what you haven't told me that I find downright fascinating. However, I shan't press you. I would hate to force you off the path of veracity —'

'If you doubt me,' says I stiffly, 'you may ask the girl Cassy.'

'I already have, and she confirms a great part of your story. Remarkable young woman, that; she has much character.' He cracked his knuckles thoughtfully. 'Very beautiful, too; very beautiful. Had you noticed? Yes, I guess the Queen of Sheba must have looked something — 'black but comely', wasn't it? However — I was also going to add that your narrative of Randolph fits very well with what I read in the papers about his escape from the steamboat —'

'His escape?'

'Oh, yes, indeed. He turned up, in Vermont of all places, about two weeks ago, and is now in Canada, I understand. The liberal sheets were full of his exploits.' He smiled. 'I don't hold it against you that there was no mention of you in his very full relation. No mention of anyone, much, except George Randolph. But from all I've heard of him, that is consistent. Extraordinary fellow, he must be. He should be grateful to you, though — up to a point, at least.'

'I doubt it,' says I.

'Is that so? Well, well, I've no doubt you've noticed that even when gratitude costs nothing, folks are often reluctant to show it. They'll even pay hard money to avoid giving it where it's due. Strange, but human, I suppose.' He was silent a moment. 'You're sure there's nothing further you wish to tell me, Mr Comber?'

'Why, no, sir,' says I. 'I can think of nothing —'

'I doubt that very much,' says he, drily. 'I really and truly do — you've never seen the day when you couldn't think of something. But do you know what I think, Mr Comber — speaking plain, as man to man? I look at you, fine bluff British figurehead, well-spoken, easy, frank, splendid whiskers — and I can't help remembering the story they tell in Illinois about the honest Southern gentleman — you ever hear that one?' I said I hadn't.

'Well, what they say about the honest Southern gentleman — he never stole the Mississippi river. No, don't take any offence. It's as I said in Washington — I don't know about you, except what my slight knowledge of humanity tells me, which is that you're a rascal. But again, I don't know. The trouble with people like you — and me, I guess — is that nobody ever finds us out. Just as well, maybe. But it lays a burden on us — we don't meet with regular punishments and penalties for our misdeeds, which will make it all the harder for us to achieve salvation in the long run.' He frowned at the carpet. 'Anyway, I'm a lawyer, not a judge.! don't really believe that I want to know all about you. It's enough for me that you brought that girl across the Ohio river today. I don't know why, for what reason, or out of what strange chance. It's sufficient that she's here, and will never wear chains again.'

Well, since that was what counted most with him, I was all for it; his talk about suspecting me for a rascal had been downright unnerving. It seemed a good time to butter him a bit.

'Sir,' says I eagerly, 'all my efforts on that poor unfortunate girl's behalf, the hardships of the flight, the desperate stratagems to which I was forced, the wound taken in her defence — wound, did I say? Scratch, rather — why, all these things would have been without avail had you not championed us in our hour of direst need. That, sir, was the act of a Christian hero, of a sublime spirit, if I may say so.'

He stood looking at me, with his head cocked on one side.

'I must have been mad,' says he. 'Mind you, I quite enjoyed it there, for a moment —' he laughed