Bessy seated herself in the hall before entering the drawing-room,
where we heard many voices and gay laughter going on.
"Go in, Richard, go in," she said, giving me her hand; "let me recover
myself a little. I shall be better soon. The worst is over; I shall
join you presently."
I pressed my lips upon her hand, and went into the drawing-room.
Though still anxious--though still grieved--I was not near so much
agitated as she was. As she had said, the worst was over, and ever
buoyant hope had risen up again speedily in my heart. She had promised
to tell me all within the next three months; and I could not, I would
not, believe that any barrier really existed between herself and me,
which a little argument, a little persuasion, would not overcome.
Woman's mind, I thought, more timid, more delicate than man's,
magnified difficulties and dangers, and sometimes even _created_ them
where they did not exist.
"But there can be no obstacle between us," I said to myself, "which
reason and love cannot overcome."
In about ten minutes, Bessy joined the rest of the party, and was
certainly more cheerful than she had been the night before. The
evening passed heavily enough, however; and about half-past nine she
retired to rest.
Half an hour after, the whole party separated, and I proceeded to my
own room, not to sleep, but to meditate. I was anxious to think of
every possible obstacle which could lie between Bessy and myself; and,
as we are often inclined to do, to lay out plans for removing that of
which I had no means of ascertaining the weight or the nature.
When I entered the room, I found the candles lighted, and Zed, in one
corner, upon his knees, very busy over something lying on a chair. He
did not hear me enter; and, while throwing off my coat and waistcoat,
I asked him a little sharply,--
"What are you about there, Zed?"
"Only looking up your pistols, master," said Zed, raising his head.
"Why, you seem to be loading them," I exclaimed.
"Just loaded the little ones, master; will load the big ones in a
minute."
"Stay, stay. Why are you loading them?" I demanded, "I don't want them
loaded."
"Oh, always better to have pistols loaded in troublesome times,
master," answered the man earnestly. "Better let me load them."
There was something in his manner which struck me as strange: and I
replied,--
"Come here, and speak to me."
The man hobbled up to the chair where I was sitting, and I fixed my
eyes inquiringly on his face.
"Do you know anything," I said sternly, "which makes you judge that it
would be better for me to have my pistols loaded this night, after
they have been so long unloaded?"
"No," replied the man firmly.
"I suspect you do," I rejoined; "and remember, if you _do_ know of any
evil about to take place, and do not inform me, you will be an
accomplice."
"Master, I do not know anything," replied Zed; "but I do not like the
looks of things. I will tell you all I do know, and will lay down my
life for you, master, for you have been a very kind master to me. This
evening I went out to take a walk all by myself; and, down in the wood
out there, I saw a good number of coloured gentlemen together--more
nor common--and they were not talking loud and laughing, nor poking
fun at each other; but they had all got their heads together and were
whispering quite low; and Nat Turner was there, and Nelson, and Harry,
and James, and several more who, at the time of the preaching, I
overheard say very wild things. So I say to myself, 'I'll go home and
load master's pistols--no knowing what may happen.'"
"Did you see any arms amongst them?" I inquired.
"No; they had no arms," he answered; "not even sticks; but they had a
great big demi-john of some liquor."
"Most probably they were out upon some frolic," I suggested,
entertaining some slight suspicion that my good friend Zed had not
entirely forgotten the beating he had received in coming from the
camp-meeting. "Give me that light jacket," I continued, "and then you
can go, Zed. I have got a good deal to do before I can go to bed."
The man did as I bade him, laying the small pistols he had loaded on
the table, before he went; and I could hear his step descending, not
as usual by the back staircase, but by the great stairs into the hall.
There it seemed to stop, and I heard no further, but judged it not at
all improbable that Zed had gone to Mr. Stringer's room to communicate
his suspicions to that gentleman.
I should have explained before, that the great hall ran straight
through the middle of the house, dividing it into two equal parts, and
being itself divided by a large thick door from what was called the
pantry-hall. On entering from the front of the house, the first room
on the left hand was the drawing-room, or parlour, as they call it
here. Then came a little parlour used as breakfast-room, and then the
dining-room. On the opposite side of the hall was, first, Mr. and Mrs.
Stringer's bed-room, then a dressing-room; and then, facing the
dining-room, another bed-room where the children slept. Mr. McGrubber
slept at the top of the house in a room next to the school-room. My
room was over that of Mr. and Mrs. Stringer; and Bessy's on the
opposite side over the dining-room. Thus, when Zed went down the great
staircase, though his tread was very heavy, I should lose the sound of
his foot if he entered Mr. Stringer's room or the dressing-room.
To say the truth, I did not attach much importance to his information
or his fears; and, sitting down at the table, I leaned my head upon my
hand and gave myself up to meditation.
"What could be the impediment," I asked myself, "to my union with
Bessy Davenport, which seemed so formidable in her eyes?"
I traced back the history of my family as far as I knew it. I dwelt
upon all that I had ever heard even in my childhood's days, which
could in any degree account for her scruples or her doubts. But I
could find nothing. My mind was too much excited for sleep to approach
my eyes; and, many a time, I went over and over the same ground,
turning the question before me in every different direction, and only
puzzling myself more and more.
Hour passed by after hour; the dull chime of the hall clock sounded
one and two; and I resolved at length to lie down to rest.
Just, however, as I rose from my chair, I fancied I heard voices
speaking in a low tone on the outside of the house; and, approaching
the window, I looked out. There was nobody there, and I returned to
the table. I had hardly reached it, when I heard distinctly a window
raised. I paused to listen; and then came what seemed to me a faint,
smothered cry.
Snatching up the pistols from the table, I advanced towards the door;
but before I could reach it, it was thrown open, and Zed appeared. He
carried a large key in his hand, and his eyes seemed starting from his
head.
"Run, master, run," he cried, "down the back staircase, out through
the little hall into the wood. They are murdering all the white people
down below!"
"How many are there?" I exclaimed.
"Oh, thirty or more," answered Zed; "but I have locked the door
between the halls, so they can't get through. Run down the back
staircase; run, master, quick quick!"
Resistance was evidently in vain, and I rushed out of the room, but
not to the top of the back staircase. Something dearer to me than my
own life was to be protected; and, darting across, I threw open
Bessy's door and went in, followed by Zed.
For the last two or three nights, she had burnt a light in her room;
and, while my faithful servant locked the door behind us, I hurried
towards her bedside. She had started up at the first sound of our
coming, and gazed at me with eyes full of terror and surprise.
"The house is attacked by revolted negroes, Bessy," I exclaimed. "They
are murdering every one below. Come quick, come quick! I will protect
you with my life."
She sprang out of bed and was seeking for some clothes, but a piercing
shriek rang up from the rooms below, and I caught her hand, saying,
"For God's sake, come!"
"Run, missie, run," cried Zed, "down the back stairs, out into the
wood. I will keep them here some time--I hear them coming up
stairs--run, run!"
Half carrying, half leading, I drew her to the door opening to the
little staircase, making Zed a sign to follow; but he shook his head,
and, just as I passed through the door with Bessy, I heard him say,
"Won't hurt me. What's a poor black man's life worth?"
I hurried Bessy down stairs as fast as possible, feeling tempted, I
will admit, to lock the door behind us, for the key was in the lock on
the outside, few persons thinking it worth while at that time in
Virginia to take what seemed the unnecessary precaution of fastening
their doors. But I thought of poor Zed, and I refrained.
The pantry-hall was quite vacant and very dark, so that we had to feel
our way through; but, as we passed, I heard voices speaking loudly
above, and what seemed to me the blows of an axe upon a door.
At length we reached the open air of the stable-yard, over which the
sinking moon was throwing her pallid light. Before us, at the distance
of some sixty or seventy yards, were two of the women servants flying
in terror, and one of them dropped a cloak which was over her
shoulders, made a snatch at it from the ground, but ran on without
recovering it on seeing Bessy and myself issuing from the house,
doubtless imagining us to be pursuers. I thought it no robbery to take
up the cloak, and throw it over my fair companion.
"To the left, Richard, to the left," she said, "between the two
buildings. It will lead us sooner to the wood."
I hurried on as she directed, and soon entered a path amongst some
tall open trees, with greensward beneath, which, at the end of five
minutes, led us to the outskirt of the forest. We plunged in, and all
was darkness round us, so that we were obliged to go more slowly; for
though the path continued, it was frequently obstructed by obtruding
trees.
"Your feet, dear Bessy," I said, in a whisper; "you have nothing to
protect them."
"Yes I have," she answered, in the same tone, "my slippers were by the
bedside."
As she spoke, I heard steps advancing quickly upon the path behind us,
at the further end of which was a little break of light, like one of
those gaps which we sometimes see in a dark cloud, and I discerned the
figure of a man, with what seemed a hatchet in his hand, coming
rapidly up.
Throwing my arm round Bessy, I drew her out of the path, and, taking
one of the pistols out of my pocket, resolved to wait and see if the
man would pass us, before I fired, first because I had no ammunition
with me, and secondly because I feared the report might attract
attention towards us.
"Dis way, dis way, they must be up here," cried a negro's voice. "Kill
'em all; kill 'em all!"
I could faintly see him as he rushed forward, whirling the axe in his
hand. I thought he would have passed us; but no: he caught a glimpse
of something white in the wood, and stopped short.
"Still, Bessy, still!" I whispered, raising my arm, and aiming
deliberately, as well as I could, by the faint light. He took a step
forward towards us, and I obtained a clearer view of him. My finger
pressed the trigger, and I only heard the ringing report of the pistol
and the sound of a heavy fall. There was neither cry nor groan, and I
suspect the ball had gone right through his head.
"Now, Bessy," I said, "the report may bring them hither quickly. Do
you know any way that will lead us from the other side of this path?"
"Yes, yes," she answered; "I will show you. It will take us to what I
call the labyrinth. We shall be safe there."
We hurried on; and I thought she gave a little start as we came
suddenly upon the body of a negro, lying partly on the path and partly
in the bushes, with the axe he had carried thrown full ten feet from
him, so that we passed between it and his corpse. She did not quail
nor falter, but led me on to the mouth of a little side path, down
which we went.
With many a bend and many a turning, it led us, after more than a
mile, into those low woods, intersected by many little by-ways, in
which she and I had passed more than one hour of deep, though very
varied, interest. We passed the open space overshadowed by the great
old tree, under which she had told me how she loved me; but that she
could never be my wife. The sinking moon shone upon the spot now as
the sun had done then. We both remembered the emotions which had now
been swallowed up in others; and while her right hand clasped my arm,
her left was extended and lay gently upon mine.
It seemed to say, "Don't you remember, Richard?"
Still we hurried on, however, for I felt that we were yet too near the
scene of slaughter to pause in safety there.
"Will not this lead us to the river, Bessy?" I asked.
"No; take to the left," she answered, "and we shall come to the house
of Mr. Travis, where we shall be safe, I doubt not."
"I fear, Bessy, the insurrection is general," I replied. "Poor Zed
gave me some intimation this evening; but I foolishly treated his
warning with too little consideration. However, we must seek some
place of shelter, though it will be necessary that we take every
precaution to avoid falling into fresh danger. Can we not reach the
town?"
"We shall have to pass close by the house," she answered. "It would be
madness to attempt it to-night. The revolt can hardly be so general as
you think."
We walked quickly on for about two or three miles, still keeping
within the shelter of the woods, though the path was crossed with
roots, and in some places encumbered with briars. I felt Bessy's hand
lean more and more heavily on my arm. Grief, anxiety, and terror had
weakened her, and I became convinced that she could not go much
further.
"What is the distance to Mr. Travis's house, now?" I asked.
"Perhaps three miles," she answered, with a sigh.
"Hadn't we better stop here and rest?" I said; "morning will soon
arrive, and you cannot walk that distance at present, I am sure."
"A little further on there is an open space," she answered; "and I
recollect there is a bank that used to be covered with wild flowers
and soft grass, and we can sit down there and rest a little, for I am,
I confess, very, very weary, dear Richard."
"Let me carry you," I said.
But she would not suffer me, saying:--
"Your arm, your arm."
At the end of about a quarter of an hour we came to the spot she had
mentioned. It was indeed like a place made for lovers. The moon,
though she was below the woods, still spread a soft light over the sky
and the grassy bank; and the tall irregular trees around, waving their
wide branches over it, were all distinct, though softened in the half
light. I led her up the bank, and seated her where it seemed driest;
then, taking my place by her side, I put my arm fondly round her. For
a minute or two she spoke not, but she sighed deeply, and her head
sank silently on my bosom.
I was almost afraid she had fainted, but I soon perceived, by the soft
breath upon my cheek, that such was not the case; and I said:--
"Now, dearest Bessy, take a short sleep; it will refresh you. I will
roll up this jacket and make a pillow for you."
"No, no, I will rest here, with my head upon your shoulder," she
answered. "I know, Richard, I can trust you as a brother."
I would not touch her lips, but I pressed mine upon her brow. Then,
wrapping the cloak tightly round her, without removing my arm from her
waist, I leaned gently back against the bank, with her head still
resting on my bosom. Then, drawing the undischarged pistol from my
pocket, I threw my right arm over her also, ready to fire at the first
approach of danger.
I felt Bessy's heart beat against mine, but I was her brother. In two
minutes she was asleep, utterly exhausted; and I kept watch while the
last ray of moonlight faded from the sky. Very soon after, the first
faint beams of morning began to spread up towards the zenith.