But there was one little spot seldom penetrated by her mistress’ watchful eye: this was her room, uninviting and comfortless; but to herself a safe retreat. Here she would listen to the pleadings of a Saviour, and try to penetrate the veil of doubt and sin which clouded her soul, and long to cast off the fetters of sin, and rise to the communion of saints.
Mrs. Bellmont, as we before said, did not trouble herself about the future destiny of her servant. If she did what she desired for her benefit, it was all the responsibility she acknowledged. But she seemed to have great aversion to the notice Nig would attract should she become pious. How could she meet this case? She resolved to make her complaint to John. Strange, when she was always foiled in this direction, she should resort to him. It was time something was done; she had begun to read the Bible openly.
The night of this discovery, as they were retiring, Mrs. Bellmont introduced the conversation, by saying:
“I want your attention to what I am going to say. I have let Nig go out to evening meetings a few times, and, if you will believe it, I found her reading the Bible today, just as though she expected to turn pious nigger, and preach to white folks. So now you see what good comes of sending her to school. If she should get converted she would have to go to meeting: at least, as long as James lives. I wish he had not such queer notions about her. It seems to trouble him to know he must die and leave her. He says if he should get well he would take her home with him, or educate her here. Oh, how awful! What can the child mean? So careful, too, of her! He says we shall ruin her health making her work so hard, and sleep in such a place. O, John! do you think he is in his right mind?”
“Yes, yes; she is slender.”
“Yes, yes!” she repeated sarcastically, “you know these niggers are just like black snakes; you can’t kill them. If she wasn’t tough she would have been killed long ago. There was never one of my girls could do half the work.”
“Did they ever try?” interposed her husband. “I think she can do more than all of them together.”
“What a man!” said she, peevishly. “But I want to know what is going to be done with her about getting pious?”
“Let her do just as she has a mind to. If it is a comfort to her, let her enjoy the privilege of being good. I see no objection.”
“I should think you were crazy, sure. Don’t you know that every night she will want to go toting off to meeting? and Sundays, too? and you know we have a great deal of company Sundays, and she can’t be spared.”
“I thought you Christians held to going to church,” remarked Mr. B.
“Yes, but who ever thought of having a nigger go, except to drive others there? Why, according to you and James, we should very soon have her in the parlor, as smart as our own girls. It’s of no use talking to you or James. If you should go on as you would like, it would not be six months before she would be leaving me; and that won’t do. Just think how much profit she was to us last summer. We had no work hired out; she did the work of two girls—”
“And got the whippings for two with it!” remarked Mr. Bellmont.
“I’ll beat the money out of her, if I can’t get her worth any other way,” retorted Mrs. B. sharply. While this scene was passing, Frado was trying to utter the prayer of the publican, “God be merciful to me a sinner.”
IX
Death
We have now
H. K. W.
But a small portion of what men call time,
To hold communion.
Spring opened, and James, instead of rallying, as was hoped, grew worse daily. Aunt Abby and Frado were the constant allies of Susan. Mrs. Bellmont dared not lift him. She was not “strong enough,” she said.
It was very offensive to Mrs. B. to have Nab about James so much. She had thrown out many a hint to detain her from so often visiting the sickroom; but Aunt Abby was too well accustomed to her ways to mind them. After various unsuccessful efforts, she resorted to the following expedient. As she heard her cross the entry below, to ascend the stairs, she slipped out and held the latch of the door which led into the upper entry.
“James does not want to see you, or anyone else,” she said.
Aunt Abby hesitated, and returned slowly to her own room; wondering if it were really James’ wish not to see her. She did not venture again that day, but still felt disturbed and anxious about him. She inquired of Frado, and learned that he was no worse. She asked her if James did not wish her to come and see him; what could it mean?
Quite late next morning, Susan came to see what had become of her aunt.
“Your mother said James did not wish to see me, and I was afraid I tired him.”
“Why, aunt, that is a mistake, I know. What could mother mean?” asked Susan.
The next time she went to the sitting-room she asked her mother—
“Why does not Aunt Abby visit James as she has done? Where is she?”
“At home. I hope that she will stay there,” was the answer.
“I should think she would come in and see James,” continued Susan.
“I told her he did not want to see her, and to stay out. You need make no stir about it; remember:” she added, with one of her fiery glances.
Susan kept silence. It
