THE SLAVE AND HER MASTER.
The carriage which conveyed General Harrington, went at a rapid speed,
till it entered the city. The General seemed unconscious of his unusual
progress, and was lost in what seemed a disagreeable reverie, till he
awoke amid a crash of omnibuses, and a whirl of carriages in Broadway.
Here he checked the driver, and leaving the carriage, bade him proceed
to the club, and await his return there. He paused upon the side-walk,
till the man was out of sight, then turning into a cross street, he
walked rapidly forward into a neighborhood that he had seldom, if ever,
visited before.
The dwelling he sought, proved to be a common brick house, without any
peculiar feature to distinguish it from some twenty others, which
completed a block, that stood close upon the street, and had a dusty,
worn appearance, without a picturesque feature to attract attention.
General Harrington advanced up the steps, after a little disgustful
hesitation, and rang the bell. The door was promptly opened, and an
ordinary maid-servant stood in the entrance. The General inquired for
some person in a low voice, and the girl made room for him to pass, with
a nod of the head.
The hall was dark and gloomy, lighted only by narrow sashes each side of
the door, and the whole building so far, presented nothing calculated to
remove the distaste with which the fastidious old man had entered it.
The servant opened a door with some caution, closed it behind her, and
after a little delay, returned, motioning with her hand that General
Harrington should enter the room she had just left.
With this rather singular summons the woman disappeared, and General
Harrington entered the door she had pointed out. It was a large room,
lighted after the usual fashion in front, and with a deep long window in
the lower end. This magnificent window occupied the entire end of the
room, save where the corners were rendered convex by two immense
mirrors, which formed a beautiful finish to the rich mouldings of the
casement, and curved gracefully back to the wall, making that end of
the apartment almost semicircular.
Hangings of pale, straw-colored silk, brocaded with clusters of flowers,
in which blue and pink predominated, gave a superb effect to the walls,
and from the ceilings, a half-dozen cupids, beautifully painted in
fresco, seemed showering roses upon the visitor, as he passed under. The
carpet was composed of a vast medallion pattern upon a white ground,
scattered over with bouquets a little more defined and gorgeous than
those upon the walls, as if the blossoms had grown smaller and more
delicate as they crept upward toward the exquisite ceiling. The front
windows were entirely muffled by draperies of rich orange damask, lined
with white, and with a silvery sheen running through the pattern, while
curtains of the same warm material, fell on each side the bay window,
giving it the appearance of a tent, open, and yet, to a certain degree,
secluded, for a fall of lace swept from the cornice, hanging like a veil
of woven frost-work before the glass, rendering every thing beyond
indistinct, but dreamily beautiful.
General Harrington was surprised by the air of almost oriental
magnificence which pervaded this apartment.
This room was not only in powerful contrast with the exterior of the
dwelling, but it possessed an air of tropical splendor that would have
surprised the General in any place. Divans, such as are seldom found out
of an eastern palace, but slightly raised from the floor, and surmounted
with cushions heavily embroidered with gold, ran more than half around
it. A few pictures, gorgeous and showy, but of little value, hung upon
the walls; and there was some display of statuary, equally deficient in
ideal beauty.
The light which fell upon General Harrington, was soft and dreamy imbued
with a faint tinge of greenish gold, like that which the sunshine leaves
when it penetrates the foliage of a hemlock grove in spring. For the bay
window opened into a broad balcony, open in summer, but sheeted in from
the front by sashes, so arranged that the glass seemed to roll
downwards, in waves of crystal, to the floor. This unique conservatory
was crowded with the rarest plants, in full blossom, that swept their
perfume in through the open window, penetrated the floating lace, and
filled that end of the apartment with the glow of their blooming
clusters.
The singular beauty of this scene--the quiet so profound, broken only by
the bell-like dropping of a fountain--and the twitter of birds, hung in
gilded cages, among the blossoms, had an overpowering charm even to a
man so _blasé_ as the General. He paused in astonishment, looking around
with pleasant interest--for an instant, forgetful of the person he was
seeking. But, to a man so accustomed to magnificence, this forgetfulness
was but momentary, and with a quiet and almost derisive smile, he
muttered:
"Upon my life, the creature is either witch or fairy, if this is really
her home!"
He was interrupted by a sound, as of one moving upon a cushioned seat.
The light was so dim at the upper end of the room, that General
Harrington had supposed himself alone, till the rustle of silk drew his
attention to a lady rising from the divan, who came toward him with a
sweeping motion, like some tropical bird disturbed in its nest.
The General paused, and stood gazing upon her as she advanced,
irresolute and uncertain; for the whole place was so different to
anything he had expected to find, that for a moment he was bewildered.
The lady advanced into the light, calmly and proudly, and with a gleam
in her eyes, as if she enjoyed his astonishment. Her dress was of purple
silk, wrought with clusters of gold-tinted flowers, that scintillated
and gleamed as she moved out of the shadows; her raven hair, arranged
in heavy bandeaux on each side her face, was surmounted by a cashmere
scarf of pale green, which was carelessly knotted on one side of her
head, and fell in a mass of fringe and embroidery on her left shoulder.
The flowing waves of her robe swept the carpet as she moved, and the
undulations of her magnificent person, were like the movements of a
leopard in its native forest. There was neither fairness nor youth in
her person, and yet the large, oriental eyes, so velvety and black, had
a power of beauty in them, that any man must have acknowledged; and
there was a creamy softness of complexion, a peach-like bloom of the
cheek, dusky but glowing--that harmonized With the gorgeous richness of
her dress and surroundings. The woman stood before her visitor, her
proud figure stooping slightly forward, and her eyes downcast, waiting
for him to speak.
The General gazed on her a moment in silence, but a quiet smile of
recognition stole to his lips; and, with an air, half-patronizing,
half-pleased, he at last held out his hand.
"Zillah!"
The woman's hand trembled as she touched his; her head was uplifted for
an instant, and an exulting glance shot from those strange eyes, bright
as scintillations from a diamond.
"I was afraid you would not come," she said, gently.
"Why, Zillah?"
"Because men do not often like to meet those who remind them of broken
ties."
The General slightly waved his hand with a half dissenting gesture, and
a gratified expression stole over his countenance, answered by a sudden
gleam in that strange woman's eyes; for she read in that very look an
intimation that her former power was not wholly extinguished.
"How comes it that you are here, Zillah?" he asked, glancing around the
room. "This is a singular place to find you in."
"You are astonished to see me here? as if I were a slave yet. Was it
strange that I, a free woman, longed to leave the places which reminded
me of the past, to see and learn something of the world? But, there was
another and more important reason--had I not a child and a mother's
heart longing to behold her offspring?"
"Zillah, tell me truly, is this thing real? is the girl we call Lina
French your child?"
"Have I not said it," replied the woman, regarding him stealthily from
under her half-closed lashes. "Why should I attempt to deceive you? it
would gain me nothing."
"That is true; but how did it happen that you abandoned her?"
The woman lifted her face, with a sudden flush of the forehead--
"You sold me, made me another man's slave: me, me!" She paused, with a
struggle, as if some suppressed passion choked her; but directly her
self-possession returned; the flush died from her face, and she drooped
into her former attitude, looking downward as before. "But that I always
was--a slave, and the daughter of a slave. Your child, though unknown
and unacknowledged, better that it died than lived my life over again,
cursed with the proud Anglo-Saxon blood, debased by the African taint,
that, if it exists but in the slightest degree, poisons all the rest."
"Zillah, you speak bitterly. Was it my fault that you were born a slave
on the plantation of my friend; that your complexion was fair, and your
beauty so remarkable, that few men could have detected the shadows on
your forehead. Surely, you had no cause to complain of too much hardship
as my servant?"
For an instant, the haughty lip of the woman writhed like a serpent in
its venom, struggling to keep back the bitter words that burned upon
them. Then her face settled into comparative calm again, and she said,
in a tone of gentle reproach, "But you sold me!"
"I was compelled to it, Zillah. It was impossible to keep you on the
plantation. James Harrington became your owner on the death of his
mother, and you know how terribly he was prejudiced against you. It was
the only command that he made; everything else he left to me; but here,
here he was imperative. All that a kind and obliging master could do, I
accomplished in spite of him. You had your own choice of masters,
Zillah; that, at least, I secured to you."
"A choice of masters!" repeated the woman, turning pale with intense
feeling. "What did I care about a choice of masters, when you sold me?
Had you given me to the grave, it would have been Heaven to the years
that followed. You sold me without warning--coldly sent an order to the
agent, and I was taken away. Your own child was the slave of another
man."
"But you kept me in ignorance, Zillah; besides, I had been married
again. A northern man, I was, of course, desirous to live in the North.
What could I do?"
"But the other slaves were set free. Master James provided means for
those who wished it, to emigrate to Liberia; a few went, more remained
of choice. No servant was kept on the estate who did not desire it. I
alone was sold."
"But you know how the young man detested you; he never could be
persuaded that your presence in her sick room, had not an evil influence
on his mother. In short Zillah, after her death he seemed to think of
little else."
The woman turned deadly pale, as the sick room of her old mistress was
mentioned. A shudder ran through her frame, and she sat down upon a
neighboring divan, gasping for breath. General Harrington watched this
strange emotion with keen interest; he did not comprehend its source,
but it brought up vague suspicions that had in former years passed like
shadows across his brain, when the sickness and death of his first wife
was a recent event.
"Zillah," he said, seating himself on the divan by her side, "you turn
pale--you shiver--what does this mean?"
The woman sat up, forcing herself to look into his questioning eyes.
"I was surprised at your blindness, shocked at the duplicity of this
man, James Harrington. So he excuses his hatred of me by this pretence,
and you believe him. I will speak now--why should I be silent longer?
Listen to me, General Harrington. It was because I knew his secret, that
James Harrington hated me. He loved the woman you have married, for
whose tranquillity I was sold to a new master."
"Very possible," replied the General, with a complacent smile. "I should
have been sorry to give my name to any woman whom a man of taste could
know, without loving. Of course, the young gentleman, like many others,
was dying of envy when that remarkable woman became my wife."
Zillah's eyes flashed, and she turned pale, lip and forehead. A bitter
laugh broke away with the words, as she said,
"But she loved _him_--adored him, rather."
The General was moved now, his self-love was all up in arms; he was
evidently getting furious.
"Zillah, this is one of your jealous dreams. You have no proof!"
"Master--let me call you so once more--among other benefits which came
to me through your kindness, I was taught to read and write--that was a
key to much else that I learned afterwards. In a vellum covered book,
which Miss Mabel always kept locked with a little golden heart, I saw
more than proof of what I say. She lost the key from her watch-chain,
one night, and I found it. The book is probably destroyed now, but if it
existed, I should need no other proof of what I know to be true!"
"Indeed," said the General, prolonging the word, thoughtfully, "Indeed!"
"Are you going?" exclaimed the woman, as he arose from the divan.
"Yes, Zillah, I have left some important papers in my library that may
be disturbed. In a few days I will see you again."
Zillah smiled a soft, exulting smile, but she did not allow it to
brighten her whole face till General Harrington had left the room.