Kate heard frequently from Selma within the first two months after her
departure, but then her letters suddenly ceased. Her last one expressed
the intention of returning to the North during the following week. We
looked for her, but she did not come. Week after week went by, and still
she did not come. Kate wrote, inquiring when we might expect her, but
received no reply. She wrote again and again, and still no answer came.
'Something has happened to her. _Do_ write Mrs. Preston,' said Kate. I
wrote her. She either did not deign to reply, or she did not receive the
letter.
None of Selma's friends had heard from her for more than three months,
and we were in a state of painful anxiety and uncertainty, when, one
morning, among my letters, I found one addressed to my wife, in Selma's
handwriting. Her previous letters had been mailed at Trenton, but this
was post-marked 'Newbern.' I sent it at once to my house. About an hour
afterward I was surprised by Kate's appearance in the office. Her face
was pale, her manner hurried and excited. She held a small carpet bag in
her hand.
'You must start at once by the first train. You've not a moment to
spare!'
'Start where?'
She handed me the letter. 'Read that.'
It was hurriedly and nervously written. I read:
'MY DEAREST FRIEND: I know _you_ have not forsaken me, but
I have written you, oh! so many times. To-day, Ally has told me
that perhaps our letters are intercepted at the Trenton post
office. It must be so. He takes this to Newbern. Is he not kind? He
has been my faithful friend through all. Though ordered away from
the plantation, he refused to go, and stood by me through the
worst. He whom my own sister so cruelly wronged, has done
everything for me! Whatever may become of me, I shall ever bless
him.
'I have not heard from or seen any of my friends. Even my brother
has not answered my letters; but he must be here, on the 17th, at
the sale. That is now my only hope. I shall then be freed from this
misery--worse than death. God bless you!
Your wretched SELMA.'
'I will go,' was all that I said. Kate sat down, and wept 'Oh! some
terrible thing has befallen her! What can it be?'
I was giving some hurried directions to my partners, when a telegram was
handed in. It was from Boston, and addressed to me personally. I opened
it, and read:
'I have just heard that Selma is a slave. To be sold on the
seventeenth. I can't go. You must. Buy her on my account. Pay any
price. I have written Frank. Let nothing prevent your starting at
once. If your partners should be short while you're away, let them
draw on me.
'AUGUSTUS CRAGIN.'
It was then the morning of the twelfth. Making all the connections, and
there being no delay of the trains, I should reach the plantation early
on the seventeenth.
At twelve o'clock I was on the way. Steam was too slow for my
impatience. I would have harnessed the lightning.
At last--it was sundown of the sixteenth--the stage drove into Newbern.
With my carpet bag in my hand, I rushed into the hotel. Four or five
loungers were in the office, and the lazy bartender was mixing drinks
behind the counter.
'Sir, I want a horse, or a horse and buggy, at once.'
'A horse? Ye're in a hurry, hain't ye?'
'Yes.'
'Wall, I reckon ye'll hev ter git over it. Thar hain't a durned critter
in th' whole place.'
'I'm in no mood for jesting, sir. I want a horse _at once_. I will
deposit twice his value.'
'Ye couldn't git nary critter, stranger, ef ye wus made uv gold. They're
all off--off ter Squire Preston's sale.'
'The sale! Has it begun?'
'I reckon! Ben a gwine fur two days.'
My heart sank within me. I was too late!
'Are all the negroes sold?'
'No; them comes on ter morrer. He's got a likely gang.'
I breathed more freely. At this moment a well-dressed gentleman,
followed by a good-looking yellow man, entered the room. He wore spurs,
and was covered with dust. Approaching the counter, he said:
'Here, you lazy devil--a drink for me and my boy. I'm drier than a
parson--Old Bourbon.'
As the bartender poured out the liquor, the new comer's eye fell upon
me. His face seemed familiar, but I could not recall it. Scanning me for
a moment, he held out his hand in a free, cordial manner, saying:
'Ah! Mr. Kirke, is this you? You don't remember me? my name is Gaston.'
'Mr. Gaston, I'm glad to see you,' I replied, returning his salutation.
'Have a drink, sir?'
'Thank you.' I emptied the glass. I was jaded, and had eaten nothing
since morning. 'I'm in pursuit of a horse under difficulties, Mr.
Gaston. Perhaps you can tell me where to get one. I must be at Preston's
to-night.'
'They're scarcer than hen's teeth round here, just now, I reckon. But
hold on; I go there in the morning. I'll borrow a buggy, and you can
ride up with me.'
'No, I must be there to-night. How far is it?'
'Twenty miles.'
'Well, I'll walk. Landlord, give me supper at once.'
'_Walk_ there! My dear sir, we don't abuse strangers in these diggin's.
The road is sandier than an Arab desert. You'd never get there afoot.
Tom,' he added, calling to his man, 'give Buster some oats; rub him
down, and have him here in half an hour. Travel, now, like greased
lightning.' Then turning to me, he continued: 'You can have _my_ horse.
He's a spirited fellow, and you'll need to keep an eye on him; but he'll
get you there in two hours.'
'But how will _you_ get on?'
'I'll take my boy's, and leave the darky here.'
'Mr. Gaston, I cannot tell you the service you are doing me.'
'Don't speak of it, my dear sir. A stranger can have anything of mine
but my wife;' and he laughed pleasantly.
He went with me into the supper room, and there told me that the sale of
Preston's plantation, furniture, live stock, farm tools, &c., had
occupied the two previous days; and that the negroes were to be put on
the block at nine o'clock the next morning. 'I've got my eye on one or
two of them, that I mean to buy. The niggers will sell well, I reckon.'
After supper, we strolled again into the bar room. Approaching the
counter, my eye fell on the hotel register, which lay open upon it. I
glanced involuntarily over the book. Among the arrivals of the previous
day, I noticed two recorded in a hand that I at once recognized. The
names were, 'JOHN HALLET, _New Orleans_; JACOB LARKIN, _ditto_.'
'Are these gentlemen here?' I asked the bartender.
'No; they left same day the' come.'
'Where did they go?'
'Doan't know.'
In five minutes, with my carpet bag strapped to the pommel of the
saddle, I was bounding up the road to Trenton.
It was nearly ten o'clock when I sprang from the horse and rang the bell
at the mansion. A light was burning in the library, but the rest of the
house was dark. A negro opened the door.
'Where is master Joe, or Miss Selly?'
'In de library, massa. I'll tell dem you'm here.'
'No; I'll go myself. Look after my horse.'
I strode through the parlors and the passage way to the old room. Selma
was seated on a lounge by the side of Joe, her head on his shoulder. As
I opened the door, I spoke the two words: 'My child!'
She looked up, sprang to her feet, and rushed into my arms.
'And you are safe!' I cried, putting back her soft brown hair, and
kissing her pale, beautiful forehead.
'Yes, I am safe. My brother is here--I am _safe_.'
'Joe--God bless you!--you're a noble fellow!'
He was only twenty-three, but his face was already seamed and haggard,
and his hair thickly streaked with white! We sat down, and from Selma's
lips I learned the events of the preceding months.