News.
As the honest efforts of poor Daph were crowned with success, she
found herself abundantly able to provide for the physical wants of her
master’s children. Three years of toil had rolled quickly away. Charlie
had passed his fourth birth-day, and become a strong-willed, sturdy
boy, while the slender figure of the fair Louise had grown and rounded,
and the Rose had learned to bloom on the cheek of Captain Jones’s
“Water-lily.”
Daph looked at her little ones with affectionate pride, and watched
over them with the most tender care. She encouraged them to play in
the small garden in the rear of their humble home, but in the street
they were never seen. The garments she fashioned for them were neat
and tidy, and the snowy aprons they always wore, were monuments of her
skill as a laundress; but she was conscious of a something in their
external appearance, which was not as it should be. About the manners
of her charge, Daph was still more troubled. “Why you eat so, Miss
Lou?” she would sometimes say. “How shall I eat, Daffy?” the child
would reply. “Well, I jus don’t know,” poor Daph would answer, “but
dere’s somewhat bout de way you childen do be, at de table, dat Daph
don’t jus know how to spress it.”
More serious troubles than these by degrees came upon Daph, in her
management. Charlie, though an affectionate, generous child, was
hot-tempered and wilful, and when he resisted Daph’s authority, or
raised his little hand to give an angry blow, the poor creature knew
not what to do. In these scenes she generally triumphed, by the look
of real distress which clouded her usually pleasant face, and brought
Charlie, repentant to her arms.
With Louise, Daph had another difficulty. The child was usually gentle
and submissive, but she seemed to pine for other companions, and a home
different from that which Daph was able to provide for her.
The early lessons of piety which Louise had learned at her mother’s
knee, had faded from her mind. Daph could remind the little girl to say
her simple prayer at morning and evening, but she could not talk to her
of the loving Saviour, or recount the wonders of the Gospel she had
never read.
The little book, with the golden clasps, Daph had cherished with the
utmost care. She knew it contained the secret which could bring peace
and order to her little home, but its treasures she, in her ignorance,
could not unlock.
Once she had ventured to ask Mrs. Ray to read a little to her from it,
but she met with a short negative, and a cold, averted look.
Mary was almost as ignorant of letters as Daph herself. So the poor
negro kept the precious book unopened, and awaited God’s time for
leading her from darkness unto light.
That the children of her dear mistress would be allowed to grow up,
ignorant of the knowledge that belonged to their station, and strangers
to the Bible their mother had loved, Daph would not allow herself
to believe. “It will come, I’se sure!” Daph would say to herself;
“de great Lord can make it right!” and thus she stifled her anxious
forebodings, and strove to do the duty of the present hour.
Mrs. Ray’s temper was not quite as trying as when Daph first made
her acquaintance. The kindness of the honest negro, and her cheerful
acceptance of the trials of her lot, had their influence under that
humble roof, and won respect and affection, even from Mrs. Ray. The
sunshine of Charlie’s happy, roguish face, had cheered the lonely
widow, and Louise had exerted on her a softening, refining influence.
Mrs. Ray was improved, but not thoroughly changed.
Little Mary had many harsh words yet to hear, but time had abated the
poignancy of the mother’s grief for her lost darling, and made her
somewhat more alive to the virtues of her hard-working, quiet, little
girl.
During the three years that had passed, since they had dwelt under the
same roof, sickness, at various times, had made the little household
seem like one family, and the habit of helping each other had daily
drawn them nearer.
Mary’s demure face was lighted up with wonder as she said to Daph, one
day, “There’s a gentleman at the door, asking if mother still lives
here, and if you are at home.”
“Is it a tall, tall gentleman, that looks grand-like and magnificent?”
said Daph, earnestly, as the thought of her master at once rose to her
mind.
“Not exactly,” said Mary, and, as she spoke, Mrs. Ray opened the door,
and ushered in Captain Jones.
Although her first feeling was disappointment, Daph shed tears of joy
as she clasped the hand of the honest captain; her tears, however,
brightened into smiles as she saw the approving look the captain
bestowed on her pets, as he caught them in his arms.
Charlie struggled and fought to be free, shouting, “I like you, sir,
but you need not squeeze me so, and rub me with your rough whiskers.”
Charlie got another hug for an answer, while Louise said, “Who is it,
Daph? It cannot be my father!”
“No! no! darling!” said the captain, quickly, and he dashed the tears
from his eyes, and was sobered in an instant.
Mrs. Ray looked on with astonishment and curiosity, at the cordial
meeting between her old acquaintance and her lodgers.
Captain Jones had known Mrs. Ray slightly in her better days, and he
now turned to her, and inquired kindly after her welfare. As usual,
she had a series of grievances to relate, but she forbore speaking
slightingly of Mary, who had modestly retired into the background. The
little girl was somewhat astonished when the captain came towards her,
and gave her a hearty greeting, as the child of his old mess-mate, and
seemed to think her well worth speaking to, though “only a girl.”
The whole party sat down together, and time passed rapidly on, while
the captain sat, with the children in his arms, and heard Daph’s
account of her various trials and adventures since they parted. Mrs.
Ray listened with eager curiosity, but she could gather little from
Daph’s words that she did not already know.
At length, Captain Jones said, with a great effort, “Daph, I have
something to say to you, which is not fit for the children’s ears,” and
he gave at the same time an expressive glance towards Mrs. Ray.
The widow seized Mary by the hand, and flounced indignantly out of the
room, saying, “I am sure we have too much to do to stay here, where we
are not wanted. No good comes of secrets, that ever I heard of!”
“Come children, come with Mary,” said the girl, apparently unconscious
of her mother’s indignant manner.
The children followed somewhat reluctantly, and Daph and the captain
were left alone together. Since the moment of her landing, Daph had had
no one to whom she might speak of the dark fears for her master and
mistress, that at times preyed upon her; to her own strange departure
she had never alluded. She had met questionings with dignified silence,
and had patiently endured insinuations, which, but for her clear
conscience, would have driven her to frenzy. Now, she felt that she was
to hear some important news, and her trembling knees refused to support
her. Anxious and agitated, she sank on her low bench, and fixed her
eyes eagerly on the captain.
“Daph,” he began, “there was horrible truth in your words that night,
when you pleaded so earnestly on board the Martha Jane! I thank God
that I did not turn a deaf ear to you then! Daph, you have saved your
master’s children from a bloody death, and you will be rewarded, as
there is a Father in Heaven!”
The captain paused, and Daph bent anxiously forward, exclaiming, “My
dear missus? master?”
Captain Jones could not speak. He drew his hand significantly across
his throat, and then pointed solemnly upwards.
Daph understood his meaning but too well. She had hoped on,
determinately; but now the hour of awful certainty had come, and she
could not bear it. She gave one loud scream, and fell senseless on the
floor. The wild yell that burst from the anguished heart of the negro,
rang through the house, and Mrs. Ray and Mary were at the door in a
moment, followed by the terrified children. Little Louise dropped down
beside Daph, and began to cry piteously, while Charlie flew at Captain
Jones like a young lion, and loudly exclaiming, “The naughty man has
killed dear Daffy, and I’ll punish him.”
While Mrs. Ray and her daughter were making every effort to recall poor
Daph to consciousness, Charlie continued his attack upon the captain,
with sturdy foot, clenched hand, and sharp teeth, until the honest
sailor was actually obliged to protect himself, by putting the child
forcibly from the room, and firmly locking the door.
Perfectly infuriated, Charlie flew into the street, screaming, “They’ve
killed my Daffy! The wicked! wicked man.”
Several persons gathered round the enraged child, and a young
physician, who was passing, stopped, to find out the cause of the
disturbance. Charlie’s words, “She lies dead there! The wicked man has
killed her,” caught the attention of Dr. Bates, and he eagerly asked,
“Where, where, child?”
Charlie pointed towards the house, and the doctor entered, without
ceremony, Charlie closely following him. His loud knock was answered by
Captain Jones, whose cautious manner of unlocking the door seemed, to
the young physician, a most suspicious circumstance.
Charlie no sooner caught sight of his enemy than he leaped furiously
upon him. The strong sailor received him in his muscular arms, and
there held him, a most unwilling prisoner, while he watched the
proceedings going on about poor Daph, and rendered assistance where he
could.
Dr. Bates ordered her clothes to be instantly loosened, and then
commanded Mrs. Ray to lay her flat on the floor, while he proceeded to
apply his lancet to her arm.
While this process was going on, the clock on a neighboring steeple
struck twelve. Captain Jones looked hastily at his great silver watch,
and saw that it was indeed midday, and he had not a moment to spare,
as the Martha Jane was by this time quite ready to set sail, and only
waiting for her captain.
He hurriedly placed a little parcel on the mantel-piece, and with one
long, sorrowful look at poor Daph, and a hasty farewell to Mrs. Ray and
the children, he left the house.
It was long before Daph returned to consciousness, and when her eyes
once more opened they were wild with fever and anguish. She declared,
however, that she was quite well, and would have no one about her; she
longed to be alone, to struggle with her great sorrow. The children
would not leave her, but it was in vain they tried their little
expressions of tenderness, and begged her look once more like their
“own dear Daffy.”
The sight of the unconscious orphans redoubled the grief of the poor
negro, and she burst into a flood of tears. The poor children, overcome
at this unwonted sight, sank down beside her, and mingled their tears
with hers.
Mrs. Ray and the young doctor were sorely puzzled by the strange scenes
they had witnessed. They had both seen the rich chains about Daph’s
neck, which had been disclosed while she was unconscious, and not a
little wonder was excited by the sight of that expensive jewelry
in such a place. Dr. Bates had not failed to observe the refined
appearance of the fair Louise and the noble bearing of little Charlie,
contrasting as they did so strangely, with the plainness of their
humble home, and the unmistakable African face of the woman, of whom
they seemed so fond.
The wild agitation of Daph, the disappearance of the sun-browned
stranger, the necklaces, the children, all tended to fill the mind of
Dr. Bates with dark suspicion. He lingered about Daph as long as he
could make any excuse for doing so, and when he reluctantly turned from
the room, he did not leave the house without thoroughly questioning
Mrs. Ray as to what she knew of her lodgers. Mrs. Ray had but little
to tell, excepting, that they had been commended to her, three years
before, by the same tall sailor, whose appearance that day had created
such a commotion. Of Captain Jones she could only say, that he had been
a mess-mate of her husband, years before, and had always been reckoned
an honest, kind-hearted man.
The questions put by Dr. Bates roused all the curiosity of Mrs. Ray,
and revived the suspicions, with regard to Daph, which had been much
in her mind during the early days of their acquaintance. Such thoughts
had long since been banished, by the honest, upright life of the
kind-hearted, industrious negro, but now they rose with new strength.
She recalled the richly embroidered dresses in which the children
sometimes appeared, the first summer after their arrival, and she
dwelt on the reluctance which Daph always exhibited to answering any
questions as to her past life, or the circumstances attending her
departure from her southern home.
These remembrances and suspicions she detailed to the willing ear of
Dr. Bates, who was satisfied that he was on the eve of unraveling some
tangled web of iniquity, and with slow and thoughtful steps he walked
away from the humble home, so wrapped in mystery.
Once more left to herself, Mrs. Ray felt ashamed of having doubted
poor Daph, and was half inclined to go to her, and frankly own the
misgivings the late occurrences had excited; but the thought of those
strange circumstances again set her curiously at work, and all right
feeling was soon lost, in an eager anxiety to find out the dark secret,
which hung like a cloud over the poor negro.