SECRETS
Mrs. Arnold was busy at the kitchen table when Berry’s announcement:
“Here is Lily!” caused her to turn toward the door, and it was small
wonder that for a moment she was too surprised at the sight that
confronted her to speak. But she quickly realized what had happened,
that Berry had encountered a fugitive slave girl and brought her to
the cabin, and poor Lily’s frightened, pleading eyes, as well as her
half-clothed, trembling form, instantly appealed to Mrs. Arnold’s
sympathies.
“Come right to the fire, Lily,” she said kindly. “And, Berry, you
would better heat some milk at once.”
Mrs. Arnold did not ask any questions. She could see that the negro
girl was worn out by fatigue, hunger and cold, and promptly began to
make her comfortable, bringing a warm blanket from the little chamber
off the kitchen, where Francis had formerly slept, and wrapping
it about the girl, who, silent, and still inclined to be afraid,
sat stiffly on the wooden kitchen chair near the stove. Berry had
instantly slipped off her cap, jacket and mittens, and put on a long
gingham apron, that at once changed her appearance from that of a
slender, alert boy to a curly-headed little girl. And as the shivering
Lily watched her new friend set a small dipper filled with milk on the
stove, and hurry back to the pantry for bread which she proceeded to
toast and liberally spread with butter, Lily’s face softened and she
became sure that this wonderful little person, who had brought her to
warmth and shelter and promised to protect her, was really a girl.
Lily ate ravenously. The hot milk and buttered toast disappeared
so quickly that Berry hurried to the pantry for the remains of the
partridge, left from dinner, and for more bread, and a new supply of
milk, all of which the negro girl devoured.
“I ain’t et rael food fer days,” she whispered, looking up at Berry.
“An’ I neve’ ’spected I’d hev a chanst ter eat agin.”
While Berry was providing food for this unexpected visitor, Mrs.
Arnold had filled a big kettle with water and set it on the stove
to heat. The door into Francis’s room was open, and Mrs. Arnold
had placed a small tub there, and by the time Lily’s appetite was
satisfied the water was ready and the tub filled. Taking soap and
towels Mrs. Arnold told the negro girl to follow her, and the
surprised Lily was soon after introduced to the first hot bath of her
life. Then, clad in a warm flannel wrapper, she curled up on the cot
bed and was fast asleep when Mrs. Arnold returned to the kitchen.
Berry told her mother the story of finding the fugitive slave girl
hiding on the side of the ridge, and Mrs. Arnold listened with a grave
face. “It was so cold, Mother, and she was so shivery and frightened,
I had to bring her home. And you said that of course we must help
anyone who needed help,” Berry pleaded, half afraid, by her mother’s
serious face, that she did not approve of Berry’s having brought the
negro girl home.
“Of course, Berry dear, you did exactly right. It has begun to snow
again, and the poor creature would have perished if you had not
brought her to shelter. She looks half-starved,” and Mrs. Arnold
wondered to herself at the courage of this young slave girl who had
started out in midwinter, facing the dangers of the forest, of hunger
and cold, and of probable pursuit, capture and punishment, rather than
remain a slave.
“But you look as if you wished I hadn’t, Mother!” said Berry.
“Do I?” and Mrs. Arnold smiled at Berry’s troubled expression.
“Well, my dear, I was wondering what we can do with Lily. You know
slaveholders always try to find a runaway negro, and if Lily’s owner
comes after her and finds her here, he would have a right to take her.
That is the law, and we could not prevent her going.”
“It’s a horrid law!” Berry declared, and her mother promptly agreed.
“But, Mother, perhaps Lily’s master may not even try to find her, and
then Lily can stay here,” the little girl continued hopefully, and
Mrs. Arnold assented, saying:
“We will see what Father says when he comes in. Of course the girl
must stay here for the present.”
Mr. Arnold had gone to the little clearing further down the ridge
where stood the rough log shelter that he had built for the cow, and
when he entered the cabin Berry and her mother were eager to tell him
of Berry’s encounter with the negro girl, and that Berry had promised
to befriend her, and had brought her home; and greatly to Berry’s
delight, and to the relief of Mrs. Arnold, he did not appear to be
greatly troubled by Lily’s presence in the cabin.
“We’ll find out more about her, when the girl is well rested. Very
likely her owner won’t bother to look for her,” he said; “but I don’t
know what we can do with her,” he added.
“Oh, Father! There are lots of things Lily could do,” Berry assured
him eagerly, quite as if she had known the negro girl all her life,
and Mr. and Mrs. Arnold smiled at their little daughter’s evident
adoption of the fleeing Lily.
The wind, thrashing among the branches of the forest trees, and the
cold rain that had followed the fall of snow, made the blazing fire
in the Arnolds’ sitting-room seem even more pleasant than usual that
evening, as Berry drew her small rocking-chair near the hearth.
Berry’s thoughts were occupied with Lily: she was sure that Lily must
have had wonderful adventures, and looked forward to hearing them. She
had entirely forgotten Mollie’s “secret,” and was earnestly planning
how Lily could be provided with clothing. While Berry’s thoughts were
filled by this new adventure that had befallen her, Mr. and Mrs.
Arnold were talking of the Union armies, and of the troops under
General Ulysses S. Grant, a quiet, unostentatious officer, whose name
was to be linked with the mightiest achievements of the Civil War.
“Grant’s soldiers are now on their first campaign, untrained and
unused to war. But most of them are from the West, hardy and brave,
and if Grant moves against Forts Henry and Donelson it will open the
Cumberland and Tennessee Rivers, and carry forward the Union front of
war two hundred miles,—for General Grant would have Foote’s fleet of
iron-clads on the river to make victory sure,” declared Mr. Arnold.
“If the Tennessee is once opened there will be conflicts near
Pittsburg Landing, at Corinth—perhaps even nearer to us than that,”
responded Mrs. Arnold anxiously.
Mr. Arnold acknowledged that might be possible. “But, even so, we
could not be in a safer place than in this mountain ravine. An army
might march by on the Corinth road, or arrive at Pittsburg Landing,
without troubling us. I am much more anxious about Berry’s adventures
with these wanderers along the trails than I am about armies and
battles coming to Shiloh,” he said, and at the sound of her own name
Berry jumped up and ran to the big settle where her mother and father
were sitting.
“What army, Father?” she asked.
“General Grant’s army of West Tennessee, and the Confederate army of
Commander-in-Chief Albert S. Johnston,” replied her father. “Are you
going to meet strange woodsmen or fleeing negroes every time you leave
the house?” he added, smiling down at Berry’s serious face.
“I wish spring would come! I’m tired of winter,” said Berry.
“It won’t be long now,” her mother declared. “If the weather turns
warm after this storm the catkins will begin to show on the alder
bushes, the wild geese will come flying over, and spring will be close
at hand. But it’s bedtime, Berry, dear, so say good-night and be off.”
“May I peek in and see if Lily is asleep?” asked Berry, and at her
mother’s smiling nod the little girl ran to open the door into the
little room where the negro girl slept in safety.
The Arnolds had finished breakfast the next morning before there
was any sound in the adjoining chamber. Mrs. Arnold had selected
some part-worn garments for the negro girl, and in a little while
Lily appeared in the kitchen, a very different Lily from the ragged,
frightened Lily that Berry had brought home. She was eager to help in
the work of the cabin, and before the hour for lessons arrived Mrs.
Arnold realized that Lily had been well trained as a house servant.
“Do not ask Lily any questions, Berry,” her mother cautioned. “Wait
until she is ready to tell us her story,” and Berry, a little
reluctantly, agreed, for she was eager to hear of Lily’s journey, and
of her escape from slavery.
At ten o’clock the little bell tinkled warningly, and Berry hastened
to the sitting-room.
“Mollie has not come,” she announced.
“We will have to plan extra studies for pupils who are late or
absent,” said Mr. Arnold.
“Oh, Father! You said that just like a real teacher,” said Berry. “Are
we not going to wait for Mollie?”
“No, indeed! You and I will read a while,” replied Mr. Arnold, opening
a book on the table.
Berry looked at him questioningly. “But reading isn’t lessons, Father!
It’s just fun,” she said, a little note of reproach in her voice.
“Listen to this, and then, when I finish, repeat as much of it as you
can remember,” responded Mr. Arnold smilingly.
“‘Pansies, lilies, kingcups, daisies,
Let them live upon their praises;
Long as there’s a sun that sets,
Primroses will have their glory;
Long as there are violets,
They will have a place in story.
There’s a flower that shall be mine,
’Tis the modest celandine.’”
“Father! That’s not a lesson. I can say it all,” declared Berry, and
indeed she could, so well had her memory been trained in this very
way, repeat Wordsworth’s beautiful lines without a mistake. The lesson
in algebra followed, and the morning hours of study ended without
Mollie appearing.
“Probably she doesn’t want to come,” said Mr. Arnold.
But Berry and her mother were sure that was not the reason that kept
Mollie away.
“May I go down and find out why she did not come?” asked Berry, as she
sat down at the dinner table.
“No, I’m not willing for you to go down the trail to-day,” said Mrs.
Arnold quickly. “Perhaps Mollie will appear this afternoon.”
“Perhaps she will,” agreed Berry hopefully; “and I guess she will be
surprised to see Lily,” and she smiled at the silent Lily, who stood
in one corner of the kitchen with her eyes fixed wonderingly upon her
new friends.