Fortunately for Dandy, Master Archy was not as "long-winded" as some orators of whom we have read, and, unhappily, heard; and therefore we cannot say to what extent his passion would have led him on the present occasion. There was no fear of consequences to deter him from smiting his bondman, even unto death. If he had killed him, though the gentle-hearted might have frowned or trembled in his presence, there was no law that could reach him. There was no dread of prison and scaffold to stay his arm, and what his untamed fury prompted him to do, he might have done with impunity. Even the statute made for the protection of the slave from his cruel master, would have been of no avail, for the want of a white witness to substantiate the facts.
Dandy ran away. It was all he could do, exceptdefend himself, which might have resulted in further injury to his young master, and thus involved him deeper than before in the guilt of striking a blow in his own defence. With no particular purpose in his mind, except to avoid the blow of the club, he retreated in the direction which led him away from the point where they had landed. He ran at his utmost speed for a few moments, for the impetuosity of his master had wonderfully increased his fleetness. Master Archy's wind soon gave out, and he was no longer able to continue the chase. He abandoned the pursuit, and throwing himself upon the ground, vented his rage in a flood of tears.
Dandy did not deem it prudent to approach him while in this mood, and he seated himself on a stump at a point where he could observe his master's motions. Master Archy was not cruel or vindictive by nature, and Dandy hoped that a few moments of rest would restore him to his equilibrium. Archy's faults were those of his education; they were the offspring of his social position. He had been accustomed to have his own way, except when his will came in opposition to that of his father, which wasvery seldom, for Colonel Raybone was extremely and injudiciously indulgent to his children.
It was evident to his body-servant that something had gone wrong that morning with Master Archy. He had never before carried his fury to such an extreme. Though he was never reasonable, it was not often that he was so unreasonable as on this occasion.
Dandy watched him patiently till he thought it was time his passion had spent itself, and then walked towards him. Archy discovered the movement before he had advanced many steps; but without making a demonstration of any kind, he rose from the ground, and moved off towards the scene of the late encounter. As he passed the spot, he took his coat upon his arm, and made his way to the Point.
The unhappy servant was troubled and mystified by this conduct; and he was still more bewildered when he saw Archy step into the boat, and heard him, in sharp tones, order the boatmen to pull home.
"Dar's Dandy. Isn't he gwine to go home wid us?" said Cyd, who was even more mystified than the body-servant.
"No questions! Obey my orders, and pull for home," replied Archy, as he adjusted his shirt sleeves and put on his coat.
When he had arranged his dress, he threw himself upon the velvet cushions, and took no further notice of Dandy or the crew. His orders were, of course, obeyed. The bow oarsman pushed off the boat, and she was headed up the Crosscut. By this time, poor Dandy, who, notwithstanding the obliquities of his master's disposition, had a strong regard for him, reached the shore.
"I am very sorry for what has happened, Master Archy, and I hope you will forgive me," said he, in humble tones.
The imperious young lord made no reply to this supplicating petition.
"Please to forgive me!" pleaded Dandy.
"Silence! Don't speak to me again till I give you permission to do so," was the only reply he vouchsafed.
Dandy knew his master well enough to obey, literally, the injunction imposed upon him. Seating himself upon the ground, he watched the recedingboat, as the lusty oarsmen drove it rapidly through the water. The events of the morning were calculated to induce earnest and serious reflection. The consequences of the affair were yet to be developed, but Dandy had no strong misgivings. Archy, he hoped and expected, would recover his good nature in a few hours, at the most, and then he would be forgiven, as he had been before.
It is true, he had never before given his master an angry blow; but he had been grievously provoked, and he hoped this would prove a sufficient excuse. Archy had lost his temper, sprung at him with the fury of a tiger, and struck him several severe blows. His face was even now covered with blood, and his nose ached from the flattening it had received. He could not feel that he had done a very wicked deed. He had only defended himself, which is the inborn right of man or boy when unjustly assailed. He had been invited, nay, pressed, to strike the blow which had caused the trouble.
Then he thought of his condition, of the wrongs and insults which had been heaped upon him; and if the few drops of negro blood that flowed in his veinsprompted him to patience and submission, the white blood, the Anglo-Saxon inspiration of his nature, which coursed through the same channels, counselled resistance, mad as it might seem. As he thought of his situation, the tears came into his eyes, and he wept bitterly. The future was dark and forbidding, as the past had been joyless and hopeless. They were tears of anger and resentment, rather than of sorrow.
He almost envied the lot of the laborers, who toiled in the cane-fields. Though they were meanly clad and coarsely fed, they were not subjected to the whims and caprices of a wayward boy. They had nothing to fear but the lash of the driver, and this might be avoided by diligence and care. And then, with the tears coursing down his pale cheeks, he realized that the field-hands who labored beneath the eye of the overseer and the driver were better off and happier than he was.
"What can I do!" murmured he, as he rose from the ground, and walked back to the shade of the trees. "If I resist, I shall be whipped; and I cannot endure this life. It is killing me."
"I will run away!" said he, as he sat down upon a stump at some distance from the Point. "Where shall I go?"
He shuddered as he thought of the rifle of the overseer, and the bloodhounds that would follow upon his track. The free states were far, far away, and he might starve and die in the deep swamps which would be his only hiding place. It was too hopeless a remedy to be adopted, and he was obliged to abandon the thought in despair.
"I will watch and wait," said he. "Something will happen one of these days. If I ever go to New Orleans again, I will hide myself in some ship bound to the North. Perhaps Master Archy will travel some time. He may go to Newport, Cape May, or Saratoga, with his father, this season or next, and I shall go with him. I will be patient and submissive—that is what the preacher said we must all do; and if we are in trouble, God will sooner or later take the burden from our weary spirits. I will be patient and submissive, but I willwatch and wait."
Watch and wait!There was a world of hope and consolation in the idea which the wordsexpressed. He wiped away the tears which had trickled down his blood-stained face.Watch and waitwas the only north star which blazed in the darkened firmament of his existence. He could watch and wait for months and years, but constant watching and patient waiting would one day reveal the opportunity which should break his bonds, and give him the body and spirit that God had bestowed upon him as his birthright.
Comforted by these reflections, and inspired by a new and powerful hope, he walked down to the river again. His step was elastic, and in his heart he had forgiven Master Archy. He determined to do all he could to please him; to be patient and submissive even under his wayward and petulant rule. He washed the blood from his face, and tried to wash away the rancor which his master's conduct had kindled in his soul.
Having made his peace with himself, his master, and all mankind, he sat down upon the stump, and took from his pocket a small Testament, which a pedler had dared to sell him for the moderate sum of five dollars. He read, and the blessed words gave him new hope and new courage. He felt that hecould bear any thing now; but he was mistaken, for there was an ordeal through which, in a few hours, he was doomed to pass—an ordeal to which his patience and submission could not reconcile him.
While he was reading, he heard the dip of oars. Restoring the volume to his pocket, he waited the arrival of the boat. It was the barge of Archy; but the young gentleman was not a passenger. The crew had been sent down by Colonel Raybone to convey him back to the estate.
The blank looks of the crew seemed ominous of disaster. Even the brilliant ivories of the ever-mirthful Cyd were veiled in darkness beneath his ebony cheek. He looked sad and terrified, and before any of the crew had spoken a word, Dandy was fully assured that a storm was brewing.
"Massa Raybone done send us down to fotch you up," said Cyd, gloomily.
"What's the matter, Cyd?" demanded Dandy, trying to be cheerful in the face of these portending clouds of darkness.
"Massa Archy done git a black eye some how or oder, and Massa Kun'l frow 'imself into a horridpassion. Den he roar and swear jes like an alligator wid a coal o' fire in 'is troat," replied Cyd, aghast with horror.
"Well, what then?" asked Dandy, with a long breath.
"Den he send for Long Tom."
"For Long Tom!" gasped Dandy, his cheek paling and his frame quivering with emotion.
"Dat's de truf," replied Cyd, shaking his head.
"Long Tom" was a tall, stout negro-driver, who did the whipping upon the plantation. He was to be whipped! It was a barbarism to which he had never been subjected, and he was appalled at the thought.
At first, he decided not to return. Even the bloodhounds and the perils of the swamp were less terrible than the whipping-post. But he was unwilling to believe that he was to be subjected to this trying ordeal, and impelled by the resolutions he had made, he at last determined to meet his master, and by a fair representation of the case, with an earnest appeal to Archy, he hoped, and even expected, to escape the punishment.
Taking his place in the boat, he was soon gliding swiftly on his way to the plantation.
When the boat touched at the pier, the slight shock of its contact with the steps seemed to shake the very soul of the culprit, who had already been tried and condemned. Though he hoped to escape, the doubt was heavy enough to weigh down his spirits, and make him feel sadder than he had ever felt before in his life. It was not with him as it would have been with one of the crew—with Cyd, for instance, who had been whipped half a dozen times without taking it very sorely to heart. The Anglo-Saxon blood in his veins boiled at the thought of such an indignity, and if he had not entertained a reasonable hope that he should escape the terrible shame and degradation which menaced him, he would certainly have taken to the swamp, and ended his days among the alligators and herons.
There was no one on the pier when he landed; and leaving the crew to dispose of the boat, he walked with a heavy heart towards the mansion of the planter. He had accomplished but half the distance, when he was met by one of the house servants, who directed him to repair to the "dead oak" beyond the negro village. The boy who had delivered this order hastened back to the house, affording him no opportunity to ask any questions, even if he had been so disposed.
"Long Tom" and the "dead oak" were ominous phrases at Redlawn, for the former was the whipper-general of the plantation, and the latter the whipping-post. The trunk of the decaying tree had been adapted to the purpose for which it was now used, and though Colonel Raybone was considered a liberal and humane master, the "dead oak" had been the scene of many a terrible tragedy.
Because his master was a just and fair man, Dandy hoped to escape the doom for which all the preparations had already been made; but the planter was only as humane, as just and fair, as the necessities of the iniquitous system upon which he hadlived and thrived would permit him to be. If he had lived beyond the reach of the influence of this Upas tree he might have been a true and noble man. Dandy believed that a true statement of the facts in the case would move the heart of his master to mercy—would at least save him from the indignity of being whipped.
With hope, and yet with some fearful misgivings, he went to the "dead oak," where the group who had been summoned to witness the punishment were already assembled. By the side of them stood Long Tom, with the whip in his hand. The strap by which he was to be fastened to the trunk was adjusted.
Dandy felt a cold chill creep through his frame, attended by a convulsive shudder, as he beheld these terrible preparations. The hope which had thus far animated him received a heavy shock, and he regretted that he had not improved the opportunity to run away before it was too late.
"Take off your coat!" said Colonel Raybone, sternly.
Dandy obeyed. His cheeks were white, and thecolor had deserted his lips. He was then directed, in the same cold and determined tones, to remove his shirt. His teeth chattered, and his knees smote each other; and he did not at once obey the order.
"If you please, master, what am I to be whipped for?" said Dandy, in trembling tones.
"What for, you young villain? How dare you ask such a question?" replied Colonel Raybone, angrily. "You know what you are to be whipped for. Look in Archy's face!"
He did look; it was, undoubtedly, a black eye which he had inflicted upon his young master.
"If you please, sir, Master Archy will explain how it happened," added Dandy, in soft and subdued tones, which contained a powerful appeal to the magnanimity of the young lord of the manor.
"Archy has explained how it happened. Do you think I will let one of my niggers strike my son such a blow as that? Off with your shirt!"
"I didn't want to strike him at all. I didn't want to take off the gloves, sir. He made me do it."
"Did he make you give him a black eye?" roared the planter. "Do you expect me to believe such a story as this?"
"Didn't you make me strike?" continued Dandy, turning to his young master.
"I didn't ask you to get mad, and fly at me like a madman," replied Archy, coldly, as he placed his handkerchief upon the injured eye.
"I didn't mean to strike him so hard, master. Forgive me this time, and I never will strike him again."
"I wanted you to strike, but not to get mad," added Archy.
"Forgive me this time, master," pleaded Dandy.
"Forgive you, you villain! I'll forgive you. I'll teach you to strike my son! Tear off his shirt, Tom!"
Long Tom was a slave. He had groaned and bled beneath the lash himself; but the trifling favors he had received had debauched his soul, and he was a willing servant, ready, for a smile from his master, to perform with barbarous fidelity the diabolical duties of his office. Seizing Dandy by the arm, he pulled off his shirt, and led him to the tree.
The last ray of hope had expired in the soul of Dandy. His blood rebelled at the thought of beingwhipped. He was not stirred by the emotions which disturb a free child with a whipping in prospect. He cringed not at the pain, he rebelled not at proper and wholesome punishment. This whipping was the scourging of the slave; it was the emblem of his servitude. The blows were the stripes which the master inflicts upon his bondman. His soul was free, while his body was in chains; and it was his soul rather than his body that was to be scourged.
The thought was madness. His blood boiled with indignation, with horror, and with loathing. The tide of despair surged in upon his spirit, and overwhelmed him. He resolved not to be whipped, and, when Long Tom turned away to adjust the strap, he sprang like an antelope through the group of spectators, and ran with all the speed he could command towards the river.
Perhaps it was a mistake on the part of Dandy, but it was the noblest impulse of his nature which prompted him to resist the unjust sentence that had been passed upon him. He ran, and desperation gave him the wings of the wind; but he had miscalculated his chances, if he had considered them at all, for theswift horse of the planter was tied to a stake near the dead oak. He had been riding over the estate when Archy returned from Green Point with the story of the blows which had been inflicted upon him.
Colonel Raybone leaped upon his horse the instant he realized the purpose of the culprit, and, before Dandy had accomplished half the distance to the river, the planter overtook him. He rode the horse directly upon him, and if the intelligent beast had not been kinder than his rider, the story of poor Dandy might have ended here. As it was, he was simply thrown down, and before he could rise and recover himself the planter had dismounted and seized him by the arm.
So deeply had the prejudices of his condition been implanted in his mind, that the thought of bestowing blows upon the sacred person of his master did not occur to him. If he had dared to fight, as he had the strength and the energy to fight, he might still have escaped. Colonel Raybone was an awful presence to him, and he yielded up his purpose without a struggle to carry it out.
The planter swore at him with a fury whichchilled his blood, and struck him several smart blows with his riding-whip as the foretaste of what he was still to undergo.
"Now, back to the tree," said Colonel Raybone, as he mounted his horse again.
Dandy had given up all hope now, and he marched to the whipping-post, as the condemned criminal walks to the scaffold. He had advanced but a short distance before he met the other spectators to his doom, and Long Tom seized him by the wrist, and held him with an iron gripe till they reached the dead oak.
"Tie him up quick, Tom," said Colonel Raybone. "It has been more work to flog this young cub than a dozen full-grown niggers."
Long Tom fastened the straps around Dandy's wrists, and passed them through a band around the tree, about ten feet from the ground. He then pulled the victim up till his toes scarcely touched the earth.
"Now, lay them on well," said the planter, vindictively.
"How many, Massa Raybone?" asked Tom, as he unrolled the long lash of his whip.
THE TRAGEDY AT THE DEAD OAK.THE TRAGEDY AT THE DEAD OAK. Page 58.
THE TRAGEDY AT THE DEAD OAK. Page 58.
"Lay on till I say stop."
Dandy's flesh quivered, but his spirit shrunk more than his body from the contamination of the slave-master's scourge. The lash fell across his back—his back, as white as that of any who read this page. The blood gushed from the wound which the cruel lash inflicted, but not a word or a groan escaped from the pallid lips of the sufferer. A dozen blows fell, and though the flesh was terribly mangled, the laceration of the soul was deeper and more severe.
"Stop!" said Colonel Raybone.
Long Tom promptly obeyed the mandate. He evidently had no feeling about the brutal job, and there was no sign of joy or sorrow in his countenance from first to last. If he felt at all, his experience had effectually schooled him in the difficult art of concealing his emotions.
"Take him down," added the planter, who, as he gazed upon the torn and excoriated flesh of the victim, seemed to feel that the atonement had washed away the offence.
During the punishment Master Archy hadbetrayed no small degree of emotion, and before the driver had struck the sixth blow he had asked his father, in a whisper, to stay the hand of the negro. He had several times repeated the request; but Colonel Raybone was inflexible till the crime had, in his opinion, been fully expiated.
Long Tom unloosed the straps, and the body of the culprit dropped to the ground, as though the vital spark had for ever fled from its desecrated tabernacle.
"De boy hab fainted, Massa Raybone," said the driver.
"I see he has," replied the planter, with some evidence of emotion in his tones, as he bent over the prostrate form of the boy, to ascertain if more was not done than had been intended.
He felt the pulse of Dandy, and satisfied himself that he was not dead. We must do him the justice to say that he was sorry for what had happened—sorry as a kind parent is when compelled to punish a dear child. He did not believe that he had done wrong, even accepting as true the statement of the culprit; for the safety of the master andhis family made it necessary for him to regard the striking even of a blow justifiable under other circumstances as a great enormity. It was the system, more than the man, that was at fault.
Dandy was not dead, and Colonel Raybone ordered two of the house servants, who were present, to do every thing that his condition required. He and Archy then walked towards the house, gloomy and sad, both of them.
Dandy, lacerated and bleeding, but still insensible, was conveyed to his chamber in the mansion house, by some of the servants. His physician was an old slave, skilled in the treatment of cases of this kind. When the patient recovered from the swoon into which he had fallen, his back was carefully washed, and the usual remedies were applied. Though suffering terribly from the effects of his wounds, he did not permit a sigh nor a groan to escape him.
The mangled flesh could be healed, but there was no balm at Redlawn that could restore his mangled spirit. Dandy felt that he had been crushed to earth. Slavery, which had before been endurable with patience and submission, was now intolerable. He had been scourged with the lash.He had realized what it was to be a slave in the most bitter and terrible sense.
"I will watch and wait," said he to himself, when the old slave had left him alone with his reflections, "but no longer with patience and submission. I will cease to be a slave, or I will die a freeman with the herons and the alligators in the swamp."
The day wore slowly away, but it was filled up with earnest and energetic reflections,—in a word, with plans and suggestions of plans for escaping from the bondage whose fetters now galled him to the quick. And before the sun set upon the day of his greatest humiliation, he had matured a scheme by which he hoped and expected to win the priceless boon of freedom. It was a daring scheme, and its success must depend wholly upon the skill and energy with which its details were managed.
When one resolves to do a thing, it is already half done; and Dandy, stretched upon his couch of pain, was inspired by the hope and comfort which his plan afforded him. It might be weeks or months before the favorable opportunity forexecuting his purpose should arrive; but the time would come, sooner or later.
"I will watch and wait," said he, while a smile of hope illuminated his pale face.
Watch and waithad now a new significance, more vital than before; and he kept repeating the words, for they were an epitome of the whole duty of the future.
While he was pondering his great purpose, he was surprised to receive a visit from Master Archy. The imperious young gentleman displayed a languid smile upon his face as he entered the chamber. It was intended as a token of conciliation. If his pride had permitted him to speak to the suffering bondman, he would have said, "Dandy, you see this smile upon my face. It is the olive-branch of peace. I freely forgive you for what you have done; and you see, by my coming, that I feel an interest in you. Not every young master would bestow a visit of sympathy upon his slave, after he had been whipped; so you see how condescending I am. We will be friends, as we were before. It is true you have been whipped; but you deservedit, and I am willing to forgive you. It may have been my fault, but as you are a nigger, and in my power, it don't make much difference."
This was what Master Archy's looks said, and the sufferer read them as well as though the words had been written upon his face. After Dandy came to his senses, his first thought was, that he would be revenged upon Archy for his mean and cowardly conduct; but the great scheme he had matured drove this purpose from his mind. Success required that he should conceal his feelings, or he might lose the confidence of his master, and thus be deprived of the opportunity for which he intended to watch and wait.
"How do you feel, Dandy?" asked Archy, in tones of sympathy, as he placed himself by the bedside of his body-servant.
"Not very well, Master Archy," replied Dandy.
"My father carried it farther than I intended, Dandy. I tried to stop him before."
"Thank you, Master Archy," answered the patient, meekly.
"Though it was more than I meant you shouldhave, I hope you will remember it a long time," added Archy.
"I shall, master."
"My eye is not in very good condition," said he, wiping the injured organ with his handkerchief. "It was a hard blow you gave me."
Dandy wished he would leave him, and he did not care to argue the matter with him, even if he had been privileged to do so.
"It won't do to let your servant go too far," said Archy.
"I am very sorry it happened," replied Dandy.
"Well, I hope the lesson will last you as long as you live."
"It will, Master Archy."
The young tyrant, when he had fully satisfied himself that his minion was in a tractable state, took his leave, much to the satisfaction of the sufferer. The old negro who acted as his physician paid him another visit in the evening, and assured him that he would be well in a few days. He left him with the injunction to go to sleep, and forget all about it.
Dandy could not go to sleep, could not forget all about it. The wound in his soul was more painful than those upon his back, and hour after hour passed away, but his eyes were still set wide open. His great resolution filled the future with sublime visions, which he panted to realize. His path lay through trial and danger, was environed by death on every side; but paradise was at the end of it, and he was willing to encounter every hardship, and brave every danger, to win the glorious prize, or content to die if his struggles should be in vain.
He was determined to leave Redlawn at the first favorable opportunity; and while he pictured a glowing future beyond the chilly damps of the swamp, and out of the reach of the rifle-ball and the bloodhound, there were still some ties which bound him to the home of his childhood.
Home! No, it was only a mockery of that heaven upon earth! It had been the scene of his tribulation—that which riveted the bonds upon his limbs. But it was home so far as it was the abiding place of his friends,—not those whoscourged him, whose caprices had tormented him; not his young master, not his old master. That delightful poetry which paints a loving slave clinging fondly to the master that scourges him had never glowed in his imagination. Whatever of regard he had before cherished towards his master had been driven from his heart by the thongs of the slave whip.
He had friends at Redlawn,—the gentle, meek, and patient Lily,—the wild, rollicking, mirthful Cyd. They were his friends, indeed, and the thought of leaving them at all was sad; the thought of leaving them in bondage, to be sold and scourged, was intolerable. While he was thinking of them he heard a slight rap at the door.
"May I come in?"
It was Lily, and the permission was promptly given. The clock in the great hall below had struck eleven, and the family had but just retired. She had been waiting all this time to pay a visit of sympathy to the sufferer.
"How do you do, Dandy?" asked she, as she sat down in a chair at the head of the bed.
"I'm better, Lily."
"I'm very glad. I wanted to come and see you very much, but I was afraid to do so. It was terrible, Dandy! To think that you should be whipped! I should as soon have thought of being whipped myself."
"It is terrible, Lily."
"What did you do, Dandy? It must have been some awful thing."
The sufferer briefly related the particulars of the event at Green Point, which had procured him the whipping. Lily expressed her horror at the meanness of Master Archy, and poured out her sympathy in unmeasured fulness upon her friend.
"But I shall not be here long, Lily," added Dandy, in a whisper.
"Why, what do you mean?" asked she, amazed at the idea of resistance in any form.
"Will you keep my secret, Lily?"
"You know that I will, Dandy."
"I mean to run away."
"Run away!" gasped Lily.
"I will not stay here another month if I can help it."
"But where will you go?"
"I know where to go, and how to go; and, live or die, I shall make the attempt."
"And you will be free?"
"I will, or I will die. I will not be a slave!" said he, in an energetic whisper.
"How grand it would be! I wish I could be free," sighed Lily. "I don't know what will become of me one of these days."
"None of us can know."
"If I were a man I should not fear so much. Master was offered two thousand dollars for me a year ago."
"He will not sell you."
"Whether he does or not, I shall be miserable as long as I live. I often wish I was dead."
"Poor Lily!" sighed Dandy.
"Can't I go with you," asked she, bending over him, and whispering the words into his ear.
"You, Lily! I shall go to the swamps first. I may have to live with the alligators for months, perhaps for years."
"I am not afraid of them. If you will let me, I will go with you," added she, eagerly.
"I shall have to meet hardships and dangers,—more than you could bear."
"I'll bear every thing, Dandy. I will help you; I will die with you."
"Poor girl!"
"I would bear any thing. I would rather live with the alligators than with Miss Edith. You don't know how much I have to bear, Dandy."
"The same that I have to bear from Master Archy. If I thought you could stand it, Lily, I should be glad to take you with me."
"I can stand it," replied she, with enthusiasm.
"You shall go, Lily."
"Heaven bless you, Dandy!"
"And I'm going to take Cyd with me, too, if he will go; but he don't know any thing about it yet."
"When shall we start?"
"I don't know; not till master goes a hunting again. I will tell you all about it in a few days."
Lily was content to leave every thing with Dandy, in whom she had more confidence than in any other person, for he was her only real friend. With hersoul full of new emotions, she left the chamber of the sick boy just as the clock struck twelve.
Dandy's great purpose now assumed a new significance; and as Lily was to share in the toils, privations, and dangers of the enterprise, a new responsibility was imposed upon him.
It was two hours more before his exciting thoughts would permit him to sleep. His wounds had ceased to smart, and he had even forgotten his flogging in the glorious vision to which it had introduced him. And when he slept it was but to dream of the swamp and its perils, and of the promised land which his fancy pictured beyond it.
At the end of a week the lacerated flesh of poor Dandy was so far healed that he again discharged all the duties of his position near the person of his young master. The flesh was healed, but the spirit still smarted under the effects of the whipping. "Watch and wait," was his motto; and though he possessed his soul in patience, he kept his eyes and his ears wide open, ready to seize upon the desired opportunity to carry out his great resolution.
The season most favorable for shooting had arrived, and Dandy was in expectation that Colonel Raybone would order the preparations to be made for his annual excursion, either to the rivers above, or the lakes below, in search of game. Upon this event was based his hope of making his escape.
The smiling month of May was ushered in withits pleasant days, and about a fortnight after his whipping Dandy had the satisfaction of hearing the subject broached. The excursion was a matter of considerable importance, for the planter was generally absent two or three weeks, during which time he and his party lived on board of the large sail-boat. As there were no guests at Redlawn, the people wondered who were to be the colonel's companions.
"We will leave on Wednesday," said the planter to his son.
"Are you going alone, father?"
"Certainly not; you may go with me for one, and you may take Dandy with you. Jake and Cyd shall go to do the heavy work."
"Who else? There is room enough in the cabin for four."
"There is no one else to go. So we shall have the more room ourselves," replied the planter, as he walked away.
Master Archy announced to Dandy and Cyd that they were to attend the party, and both expressed their satisfaction at the privilege accorded to them.They were directed to put the Isabel, which was the name of the boat, in good order for the trip. She had to be thoroughly washed and dried that she might be in readiness to receive her stores on the following day, which was Tuesday, and they hastened off to perform their task.
The Isabel was about twenty-five feet long. She was very broad on the beam, and drew but very little water for a boat of her size. She was provided with a centre board, and worked admirably on the wind. She had been built expressly for the shallow waters of the lower lakes.
She was schooner-rigged, and could carry a heavy press of sail, which the light winds of these inland lakes rendered necessary. The cabin was twelve feet long, and nine feet wide at the broadest part, and contained four berths. The "trunk," which was elevated about fifteen inches above the deck, afforded a height of about five feet beneath. The berths, which extended beneath the main deck, answered for beds by night, and sofas by day.
The standing room, or open space abaft the cabin, was eight feet long, with cushioned seats on threesides. Forward of the cabin there was a "stow-hold," four feet long, in which the fuel and furnaces used for cooking were kept. Under the cabin table, and under the berths and seats in the standing room, were a plenty of lockers for the reception of provisions and other articles required on board.
We are thus particular in describing the Isabel, because Dandy and his friends were destined to make their home on board of her for some time. They might have found many a worse dwelling place on shore, for the boat had ample accommodations for them. The cabin was elegantly fitted and furnished, and there was every thing on board which could be needed to make them comfortable.
While Dandy and Cyd were cleaning the Isabel, the former boldly announced his purpose to run away, and invited his friend to make one of the party.
"Golly! Dis chile go for sure!" roared Cyd, displaying his wealth of ivories, and dropping his scrubbing brush with amazement at the magnificence of the idea.
"Hush, Cyd! You will tell every one on the place."
"No, sar! I won't tell no one ob it. Dat's de truf, Dandy."
"Be careful then, and don't speak so loud."
"But where you gwine?" demanded Cyd.
"I'm going into the swamp, and shall stay there till master thinks we are all dead. Then I'm going to run down to the sea, and get on board of some vessel that will carry us to the free states."
This prospect was rather too much for the simple comprehension of the unlettered negro boy, and he only rolled the whites of his eyes in mute astonishment.
"I've studied it all out, Cyd, and I know where to go, and how to get there."
"Yes, Dandy, you knows ebery ting, and I'll foller you to de end ob de world—dat's de truf," added Cyd.
"And Lily will go with us."
"Lily?"
"Yes; now keep your mouth shut, and don't look any different from what you always do."
"Golly—yes; when you gwine to go, Dandy?"
"To-morrow night. Every thing will be put onboard, ready for the colonel to start early the next morning. Just as soon as all the people in the house have gone to bed, we will meet here, and go on board."
"Den I shall be a free nigger?"
"Yes, if we get off, and the plan works well. But you must be very careful."
"You kin trust dis chile, Dandy. You knows you kin."
"I do, or I should not have made you my companion."
Dandy instructed his sable friend very minutely in the duties he was to discharge in connection with the enterprise. He had every confidence in Cyd's discretion, and knew that he would rather die than betray him.
The Isabel was carefully cleaned, and left to dry in the bright sunshine of a clear day. The next morning, the steward of the plantation laid out the stores which were to go on board; and as their storage was a nice matter, Dandy was charged with this duty. He was assisted by Archy's boat crew, who conveyed the articles on board; and before sunset the boat wasready for her cruise. Every locker was filled with meat, vegetables, crackers, wines, liquors, fruits, cakes, cordials—with every thing which could contribute to the comfort or luxury of the excursionists. There were two barrels of water in the standing room, and the choice fowling pieces of the planter and his son were in the cabin, with a supply of ammunition sufficient to destroy half the game of the parish.
To the supplies laid out by the steward, Dandy contrived to add a dozen hams, nicely sewed up in canvas bags, and several kegs of crackers, which he took from the store room. These articles were stowed in the forward cuddy, and concealed beneath the fuel and furnaces, so that the planter, when he inspected the boat, might not discover them. Some other articles were placed in a convenient position on shore, that they might be taken on board in the night.
At sunset, Colonel Raybone went off to the Isabel, and carefully examined every part of her, to satisfy himself that there had been no omissions in her outfit.
"You have done very well, Dandy," said the planter, when he had completed his inspection. "How many hams have you put on board?"
"Six, sir," replied Dandy.
"We may be absent five or six weeks; you may put in six more," added Colonel Raybone.
"Yes, sir."
He also ordered an additional supply of smoked beef and tongues, which, of course, the caterer was glad to convey on board. When these stores had been added to the stock, he was satisfied, and ordered Dandy and Cyd to be on board by six in the morning.
The superintendent of these operations then locked up the cabin, and went on shore. Though he was burning with excitement, he managed to demean himself with his ordinary coolness, and Cyd looked as immovable as a statue.
At the usual hour they retired to their several rooms, but not to sleep. Dandy, as the conductor of the enterprise, was weighed down with the responsibilities of his position. Though he had done every thing he could to insure the success of the venture, he was still burdened with a feverish anxiety lest something had been omitted, and with the dread that something might happen to interfere with the plan.
There were many things which might intervene tothwart his purpose. If the night should prove to be calm, there would be scarcely a hope of success; for the Isabel was so large that the two boys could not row her far enough, before daylight, to place them out of the reach of pursuit. There was quite a fresh breeze when he went to his room; but he trembled with fear lest it should subside before he could take advantage of it.
While Miss Edith was at dinner that day, he had found an opportunity to whisper his purpose into the ear of Lily, and to give her such instructions as the occasion required. He had no doubt that his companions would meet him on the pier at the appointed time.
Fortunately for the success of the plan, the family retired at an earlier hour than usual, and Dandy waited with impatience till the stillness of the house assured him it was safe to leave his chamber. He then tied up a portion of his clothing, and crept softly down stairs. His heart beat with most tremendous pulsations. The opportunity for which he had been watching and waiting had come, and issues more terrible than those of life and death hung upon thesuccess of the enterprise. If he failed, if he was captured, he might expect the auction block, for Colonel Raybone always sold a servant that attempted to run away.
The destiny of poor Lily was also in his keeping, and for her to be sold was to be consigned to a fate worse than death to a pure-minded girl—a fate which both of them were old enough to understand.
"God be with me!" ejaculated Dandy, half a dozen times before he left his chamber.
It was all the prayer he ever uttered, but it was an earnest and sincere one.
"God be with me," repeated he, in a whisper, as he closed the front door of the house behind him, and with stealthy step crept down to the pier.
Cyd was already there, for he did not sleep in the great house, and had not to wait the movements of the family. He trembled with excitement as Dandy joined him, for he knew the fate of the runaway if he was caught. They immediately brought the articles which had been concealed down to the steps, and put them in the bateau, which was used as a tender for the Isabel.
"What's dis for?" asked Cyd, as he deposited two pots of paint in the boat.
"Don't ask questions," whispered Dandy, earnestly. "Not another word, or I'll leave you. Now, put these things on board, and mind you don't make a particle of noise."
Cyd obeyed the order to the letter, and paddled off to the sail-boat. Every thing was now in readiness for their departure, but Lily had not yet made her appearance. Cyd returned to the shore, and they waited half an hour, but the lady's-maid did not come.
There was a stiff breeze blowing, and Dandy was impatient at the loss of a single moment of precious time. He walked up to the house, fearful lest something had happened to prevent her from keeping her appointment. There was a light in Miss Edith's chamber, which explained her non-appearance; but he could not think of going without her.
When his patience was nearly exhausted, the light was extinguished. Lily soon made her appearance on the lawn, and they hastened down to the pier.