Stark ushered James into his office, offering brandy and a cigar, both of which James declined. He proved to be a consummate actor, and after half an hour Stark was begging him to take a ride out to the farm. “We can be there in ten minutes, Mr. Hargraves.” James agreed to have a look and the banker quickly opened his office door and said, “Miss Trumbull, have Jerome hitch up my carriage and bring it around front immediately.” Then he escorted James to the door, and when the black servant, Jerome, pulled up in the handsome carriage, they got into the backseat.
The farm was a beautiful place with fenced in pastures, two large ponds, and flat open fields just perfect for cultivation. The house reminded James of his home in Georgia with the same Greek revival architectural influence. It was surrounded by flowers, lots of mature trees, and a manicured lawn adorned with marble statues. Inside, the house was fully furnished with fine oak and mahogany furniture; gold frame paintings, and a huge tapestry hanging in the foyer depicting Monticello—the home of the great Virginian and former president, Thomas Jefferson.
As they walked about the place, James began to wish that things were different; that he really was a prospective buyer. He thought the farm would make a wonderful place for him and Polly to live and raise a family. What a strange time, James thought, to realize that he was in love.
“What do you think?” Stark asked when the tour was over.
“I think it’s just perfect,” said James. “Of course I will have to talk it over with my wife and she will want to see it for herself. We’re staying in town at a hotel. We’ll be here for a few days.”
“I have an idea,” said Stark, with a gleam in his eye. “Why not spend your stay right here? You’ll save the price of your hotel room and you and your wife can really get the feel of living here. I’ll even throw in your meals. I can send a wagon over this evening with enough food to last your stay and I’ll leave a Negress here to cook and serve you. What do you say?”
What could he say? It was all made to order. They would all have lovely accommodations, complete with food, and James could question the slave woman that Stark would send to find out if Emaline was still the banker’s property.
“I must say, you do make an offer that is difficult to refuse, Mr. Stark.”
“Splendid, splendid. Just bring your wife out as soon as you’ve checked out of your hotel. Let’s see now, today is Tuesday . . . I’ll stop out say, Friday morning and maybe you’ll be ready with a decision?”
“I think you can count on it,” James replied.
He wasted no time getting back to the campsite. He told Polly all about the meeting with the banker and the invitation to stay at the farm. He also told her that he had introduced himself as Sterling Hargraves. Polly agreed with James about how well things were working out.
Driving back through Petersburg, Polly sat very close to James, holding his hand. Again he tried to imagine away reality, almost pretending they were simply going home after having spent a wonderful day together.
Near the center of town, however, he noticed the pressure of Polly’s grip increase until her fingernails were digging into his skin. When he looked at her, the fear was unmistakable in her expression. She turned her head slightly toward the left side of the street. “Look over there,” she whispered. His eyes searched along the boardwalk and his heart skipped a beat when he discovered what had caught her attention. Tying his horse in front of the sheriff’s office was their arch enemy, Sheriff Wilkes. There were two other men with him, neither of which was Roscoe. Wilkes had his back to the street and did not look in their direction. All James could say was, “Thank God he didn’t see us.”
Not another word was uttered until they reached the farm and climbed out of the wagon. “Let’s get what we need and get it inside. I want to get this rig in the barn, out of sight.” To Israel he said, “You and the boy go in the house. Take him upstairs and find a bedroom in front. From now on until we leave here, I want you to spend as much time as possible looking out that window. You’ll be able to see for quite a distance so if you spot anyone coming shout out a warning.”
“Yes, sir,” he replied, picking up the boy and hurrying into the house.
After putting the wagon away and tending to Star, James went in and found Polly absorbed in the beautiful décor. “Isn’t it grand, James?”
“Yes, it is.” Then he blurted, “I wish things were different and we were here because this is our home.” Polly looked at him with a smile that said she was thinking the same thing. On impulse, he took her in his arms and kissed her deeply and meaningfully. Then he held her at arm’s length and said, “Can you imagine anyone with a poorer sense of timing than me?”
“Poor timing notwithstanding, I’ll take it.” Then a tear escaped her eye. “Will we ever reach Pennsylvania?” she asked.
“We’ll get there, Polly. I promise you we’ll get there. We just have to be vigilant. We’ll all take turns sleeping and watching. Hopefully Wilkes will move on soon and he’ll be out ahead of us. There is really no reason why we wouldn’t be safe here for a couple of days. No one knows we’re here except Stark and he poses no threat. We’ll find out this evening if he still has Emaline, then we can plan our next move.”
About an hour later, Israel called to James from the top of the stairs. “Someone’s comin, sir. Looks like a horse and wagon wit two peoples in it.”
“All right, Israel. You and the boy stay in your room.” James stood by the window, revolver in hand until he clearly made out who the visitors were. He could see that the driver was a black man and a black woman sat next to him. It had to be the food and the cook Stark had promised. The wagon stopped in front of the house; the man kept his seat, but the woman got down and came up to the door. James laid his revolver on a table in the foyer and waited for her to knock. When it came, he opened the door and there stood the most beautiful black woman he had ever seen. She was about twenty-five years old; light skinned, maybe five feet tall, and even the scar on her cheek did not spoil her exceptionally good looks.
“Mr. Hargraves?” she asked.
“Yes, that’s right.”
“I was sent by Mr. Stark to take care of you and your wife.”
“We’ve been expecting you.”
“I’ll have Jonas unload the wagon, and then I’ll fix supper.”
James was amazed. Not only did she lack the worn, neglected appearance of a slave woman, but unlike Israel’s field hand dialect, she spoke as one who had been educated. He waited until the food was unloaded and Jonas was gone before asking, “What is your name?”
“My name is Emaline, sir.”
“How long have you worked for Mr. Stark?”
“I have worked for him for a little over two years, sir. Before that I lived in Georgia.”
Indeed, she spoke intelligently but still maintained the demeanor of a slave, which was to say, she assumed her place. “Would roasted chicken with all the trimmings be satisfactory, sir?” she asked.
“It would, indeed,” said James. “But, Emaline, I want you to set five places for supper.” She gave him a queer look and repeated the request as if she’d misunderstood. “You want me to set five places, sir?”
“That is correct.”
“Very well, sir,” she replied. James took Polly into the parlor; he could see the excitement in her face. “I cannot wait to witness the reunion,” she said. “This is simply wonderful, James,” and she kissed him most enthusiastically.
“Excuse me, Polly, dear, I’d better go upstairs and speak to Israel.”
Being most accomplished at her work, Emaline laid a beautiful table. Again, it reminded James of the grace and civility he’d grown up with. When the food was ready, he seated Polly then he pulled out a chair for Emaline. For the slave woman, seeing must have been disbelieving and she began to protest. “But sir, I cannot—”
James interrupted her.
“Please, Emaline, sit. We are just people sharing a meal together as it should be.” Staring up at him
, she slowly slid down into her chair.
“Everything looks wonderful, Emaline,” said Polly.
“Thank you, ma’am.”
“Please, call me Polly.”
James stood at the back of his chair and said, “And now, I shall go and get our other two guests.”
Poor Emaline looked so bewildered that James wondered if she would be able to stand the biggest surprise of all. He went upstairs and returned a minute later, leading Israel and the boy into the room. Israel and Emaline locked eyes and remained motionless as if frozen. Then Emaline began to shift her gaze from Israel to the boy and back again. When she was able to control her faculties, she pushed back her chair, rose very slowly, and walked around the table to face them. “Israel,” she said. “My God, Israel how . . .” Her voice failed her; she opened her arms as the tears fell in a downpour. They embraced each other so hard they nearly restricted their abilities to breathe. Together, they cried out many years’ worth of tears as Israel pulled her down with him to their knees. Then, grabbing the boy, they encircled him in their arms. “And my boy,” sobbed Emaline.
James and Polly were unable to allow them all of the emotion as they became caught up in their own hugging and crying. It took some time before they could all separate themselves and regain a modicum of composure. Finally James said, “If we can manage it, let us enjoy this wonderful meal, then we can sit and talk.” Emaline and Israel sat on one side of the table with the boy between them; James and Polly sat on the other side as they broke bread as equals.
Afterwards, Polly helped Emaline clear the table and wash the dishes, and then they all settled into the parlor. James sat by a window to keep a watchful eye while telling the entire story, beginning by describing the encounter with Israel in his father’s barn. After the conclusion of the tale he said, “We’ll leave tonight, and it will be days before Mr. Stark discovers that Emaline is missing. We will have a great advantage.”
As James surveyed his audience, he saw all smiling faces except for Emaline. She wore a very somber expression; it was obvious that something was troubling her deeply. “Emaline, is something wrong?”
She looked at James, then at Israel, then she put her head down and started crying again; but this time they were not tears of joy. Israel attempted to comfort her while begging for an explanation. She looked around the room, took a very deep breath and said, “I cannot go with you.”
In an instant, Israel dropped to his knees before her, pleading with her to tell him why.
“I am so ashamed,” she said. “I cannot leave because I have a child by Mr. Stark.” Jaws dropped and eyes grew large; Israel sat back on his heels in disbelief.
“Mr. Stark took a liking to me from the moment he saw me. When he brought me here, he treated me much better than the other slaves. He even allowed me to learn to read and write in spite of the fact that it is against the law. I was granted many extra privileges, sometimes right under his wife’s nose. As time went by he became more and more friendly; I knew what he was leading up to, but I was always able to escape his advances. Then one night when his wife was in New Orleans he got very drunk. He promised that if I would sleep with him, he would free me and send me north. I didn’t believe him and it wouldn’t have matter if I had. He forced me to have relations with him and he has been doing it on occasion ever since. The same thing happened to my mother. That is why my skin is so light. After a few months I became pregnant. I have an eighteen-month-old daughter. Her name is Jasmine. Mr. Stark does not admit to being her father, mostly because of his wife. But I think she knows anyway. Ever since Jasmine was born he has threatened me, saying that if I ever resist him he will sell her away from me. I had already lost Israel and a son. Please do not misunderstand me: I despise the man, but I can’t leave my daughter behind.”
James could see the rage that had come over Israel. He jumped up and shouted, “I is gwine ta kill dat man Stark!” Then he headed for the door, not even knowing where to find the banker. James stood in his way. “Hold on Israel—you’ve got to hear me out.”
“You is a good man, sir. I owes you a powerful lot but I gots to kill dat man for what he done to Emaline. It’s jes too much what the massa do to da slaves. Emaline and me never even jumped de broom cuz your uncle done sold her off afore we gots da chance. Now this man done had a baby wit her. It jes ain’t right, sir. It jes ain’t right.”
“No, Israel, it isn’t right at all, and believe me—I can understand how you must feel. But if you lose your head and go after Stark, you risk losing all you have gained, not to mention putting everyone here in danger. Please do this my way.”
“What way is dat, sir?”
“No one can change what has happened. Some things you just have to live with. Having lived as a slave I know that you can understand what I’m saying. But I’m making you a promise. We have Emaline. We will get Jasmine. We’ll get Jasmine and then we’ll all go north. You will have your family, Israel, and that’s what counts. What do you say?”
It took several minutes for the distraught man to calm down and think things through. Then Emaline said, “Please, Israel.” He looked over at her, and then he looked at James. “Yes, sir,” he said. “We do it your way.”
It was small relief to James. He had been so grateful that everything seemed to be going so smoothly. They could have just slipped away and by the time Stark found out he had been fooled they would have been well on their way to Pennsylvania. Now they would not only have to risk trying to rescue Emaline’s daughter, but there was a good possibility that Sheriff Wilkes was lurking somewhere in the shadows.
“All right, Emaline, how should we go about getting Jasmine out of there?”
“I can get her out, sir. If we wait until it’s late enough, I can get in and out without any trouble. Jasmine lives in a small cottage out behind the main house with me and Mammy Watkins. Mr. Stark probably wouldn’t notice her missing right away. He doesn’t pay any attention to her and Mammy won’t say anything.”
Wonderful, James thought. If Emaline could get her daughter out quietly, they may still get away with the element of surprise intact.
While they waited for a later hour, James sat in the parlor and wrote a letter to his parents. He kept it simple, basically letting them know that he was busy but otherwise doing fine. He hoped that they were fine as well. Not a day went by that he did not worry about them.
By eleven p.m., Emaline assured James that everyone in the Stark household would be asleep. He had gone out earlier to hitch up the wagon so that it would be ready. It was decided that only James and Emaline would go. He did not trust taking Israel due to his animosity toward Mr. Stark. He would stay behind with Polly and the boy and they would be ready to load the wagon and leave the minute that James returned with Emaline and Jasmine.
It was a clear night with a sky heavily speckled with stars and a moon that was nearly full. The banker’s house was only five miles away, sitting about a quarter mile off the main road. The lane leading back was lined with trees on both sides and a split rail fence covered in places with rose bushes. They drove within fifty yards of the house then James pulled off to the side and stopped. “I’ll go in closer to the house with you in case of trouble,” he told Emaline. “I’ll find a spot where I can keep out of sight.” At the edge of the driveway James ducked into a clump of bushes. Emaline hurried across toward the house and was swallowed up by the darkness.
James watched from his place of concealment as the minutes ticked by. The night was calm and quiet, which should have bolstered his confidence, but somehow it worked on his nerves instead. Maybe he thought it was too quiet or maybe he felt that it was doom disguised as silence and would at any second make its presence known. He consulted his pocket watch. Only five minutes had passed since Emaline disappeared. Prodded by his impatience, James crossed the driveway and melted into the darkness by the side of the house.
From his new vantage point he could see a small cottage like the one Emaline had described. Ha
ving gone that far, he decided he might as well continue on to the cottage when something caught his attention. Thirty feet from the little dwelling was a privy, and through a knothole in the door glowed a dim light. James felt a chill go down his spine. Before he could react, Emaline appeared in the light of the moon with her daughter in tow. He took the woman by the hand and the three of them hastened toward the driveway.
Just when it looked like they might make good their getaway, there was a creaking sound behind them followed by the slamming of the privy door. James turned around and instinctively stepped in front of Emaline and her daughter to offer protection. There, in front of the privy, stood the banker; the moonlight reflecting off of the pocket pistol in his hand.
“Stop right there!” he shouted. Then, holding the pistol steady, he hurried over until he was close enough to recognize James. “Mr. Hargraves what is the meaning of this?” James tried desperately to think of a logical story but it was useless. The banker would have already put two and two together; it was easy to deduce that Emaline was trying to run off with her daughter and that James had not come to him to buy any farm.
Stark grew very angry very fast and his disposition had absolutely no resemblance to the pandering lackey James had met the day before. “Put your hands high in the air, Hargraves. We’ll walk over to the house nice and easy so I can summon my man, Jonas. Then I’ll send him to town for the sheriff.” James raised his hands and Stark grabbed his revolver. “I’ll take that. Now all of you walk to the house.” As they got to the front lawn, the door opened and a woman dressed in a flannel nightgown came out to the veranda. She surveyed the scene, then walked boldly down the steps and confronted her husband.
“What is going on here, Zachary?”
A Deeper Sense of Loyalty Page 13