Mrs. Shepherd smiled very complacently at the compliment, and modestly replied, that it was always her study to follow to the best of her power the example set her by the gentry of the best standing in the state. “But what was it, Mr. Smith,” she added, “that you was going to say to me about the name of Bligh?”
“I’ll tell you exact and confidential, Mrs. Shepherd; and the affair’s no trifling one neither, I can tell you. You know Hogstown? him that was overseer, I mean, to General Dissequeur, for so many years. Well, we’ve all subscribed and handsome too, to give Hogstown a salary for keeping a lookout far and near for all strangers suspected of preaching and praying. We couldn’t have hit upon a better man, I promise ye. He’s first-rate, upon my word, quite remarkable, and I calculate that we may be lucky enough to find an example before long to try a little Lynch-law upon. Depend upon it, Mrs. Shepherd, there’s nothing as would do us so much good as that. But to come to the point, you must know that Hogstown has got his eye upon a young fellow called Bligh, that hails from Kentucky by his own account — but at any rate he is a stranger in these parts; and Hogstown has fished out, the Lord knows how, that this Bligh is dreadful pitiful and tender-hearted over the niggers, and that he frequents a family of German foreigners, downright anti-slavery folks, for they’re as rich as Jews, and yet don’t own a slave, and a deal more beside about him that I can’t justly remember; but it all goes to this, that he thinks there’s a pretty considerable good chance of bringing him in guilty of some of the damnable preaching and praying practices that we’re on the look-out for: and if he succeeds, we’re agreed among ourselves, Mrs. Shepherd, to get up a sort of a riot, you see, to set at him; and then, if happens that they let blood, why’t will do a deal of good to the state, you may depend upon that; for there’s great symptoms of fever about, I can tell you.”
“You need not tell me that, Mr. Smith, — I’m sorry to say I know it over well myself. I can’t sleep for thinking of it; and happy and thankful will I be if anything can be done for the public good, and to keep all quiet. God grant that it may last out my time! but I do think there’s mischief brewing, Mr. Smith.”
“You an’t the only one that lies awake in Louisiana for that, Mrs. Shepherd. And so, you see, there’s reason good for pricking up one’s ears for such a name as Bligh. Do you think, ma’am, ’tis possible the young woman can be any kin to him?”
“The most possible thing in the whole world, Mr. Smith; and I’d wager a dollar to a cent that I’ve had the very identical man in my store, sir. I think ’tis a matter of a month ago, or near it, that a pale, tall, soft-spoken young man, altogether a stranger to me and mine, and, I expect, to all Natchez into the bargain, come here speering for needle-work for his sister. I wasn’t over and above inclined to have anything to say to him, that’s a fact; but I happened to have a deal of pressing work in the house, and I was afraid of my life that I should be obligated to disappoint one or two planters’ ladies as was in a vast hurry for their things, and so I yielded just for a trial, and the gal come over in a waggon the next market-day from somewhere back in the woods, and here she’s been ever since. But if the chap’s her brother, I suppose he’s too much taken up with some of his unlawful doings to think much about her, for she come by herself, and he’s never been here to look after her since.”
“Well, that’s remarkable too, an’t it? — and the coming of this young nigger to visit her, without having a single word to say for himself as to who sent him? For certain it might help us out considerable, Mrs. Shepherd, if we could certify that this gal’s brother is the chap that Hogstown has got his eye upon: and then, you know, we’d get you to watch her a spell; and we might wait from July to eternity before we found out a slicker way to come at him.”
“You speak sense, Mr. Smith, and trust to me for having eyes in my head. But, first and foremost, we ought to come to an enlightenment upon the point of whether the man is the right man or not; and I expect that you could conduct so as easy to make this plain, sir.”
“Why, I don’t rightly know how at this present moment, seeing that Hogstown isn’t come back yet from New Orlines — at least I expect not. But I’ll tell you, Mrs. Shepherd, who I saw in town to-day, as ‘cute a chap and as true a well-wisher to the cause as Hogstown himself — and that’s young Whitlaw.”
“Very true indeed, sir, he’s an unaccountable fine young gentleman; but that don’t go to prove as he ever saw, this young Bligh, does it, Mr. Smith?”
“You’re as sharp, as your own needles, ma’am, and upon my word I admire your quick capacity greatly; but I expect I can answer you not that bad either, Mrs. Shepherd. Didn’t I explain to you but now how this Bligh, against whom we’ve got such black suspicions, was hand and glove with the German foreigners as are held to be anti-slavery folks? — Well, then, now I’ll come round to the right point, as I always do, I expect, Mrs. Shepherd, in the way of logic and argument. My young friend Whitlaw lives — or at least his father does, with nothing but a zig-zag to part him and the Germans; and I know well enough that they’re no strangers, if they’re no friends, for I’ve heard’ young Whitlaw talk unaccountable of the German’s daughter, who is the biggest beauty, by his account, in the whole Union. Come now, Mrs. Shepherd, don’t you think it first-rate likely that things being so as I say, that young Whitlaw must know this Bligh gal by sight if she’s of that breed we calculate she is? — And if so, couldn’t he verify her slick if we could give him a sight of her?”
“That’s jest like your ‘cuteness, Mr. Smith, I must say; and I’ll make no objection to that young gentleman coming here, provided he don’t stare at the gal over-much, which would be what I could not approbate on no account.”
“Oh, trust him for that, Mrs. Shepherd; Whitlaw can behave himself when there’s a reason for it. Well, then, I’ll step and look after him, shall I? — I know mostly where he’s likely to be found, and I shan’t be long, you may depend upon it,”
CHAPTER V.
CLOSE beside the house of Mrs. Shepherd ran one of those dirty little passages which are so numerous in the town of Natchez. This dark alley caught the eye of Cæsar as he left the store where himself and his embassy had been so roughly treated, and it came into his head that if he turned down it, he should assuredly come upon the kitchen-entrance to the mansion of the uncourteous sempstress. He reasoned farther still, and felt equally certain that not far from this kitchen-entrance he should infallibly encounter some household slave, who, with the natural kindness of the race for each other, would listen to his petition, and obtain for him a moment’s sight of Lucy Bligh.
The experiment answered to his wish. The little Dido, already gratefully attached to Lucy for the gentle kindness of the few words that daily passed between them, no sooner comprehended that Cæsar was a person Miss Bligh would like to see, than she promised to let her know he was there. Accordingly she carried into the “keeping room” some glasses of cold water; a volunteer attention which produced no remark, the females of that region being as constant in their demands for “a drink of water” as the superior sex for “a drink of whisky.”
The little girl set the waiter upon the table close beside the place where Lucy sat, and furtively but distinctly whispered in her ear as she did so the name of “Cæsar Bush.”
Lucy started, but her companions did not remark it, and soon after little Dido had quitted the room she rose to follow her.
“Where are you going, Miss Lucy Bligh?” was uttered in a voice of authority from the chair. “I am going only for a moment, ma’am,” was the reply; and as Lucy had never yet been found guilty of even appearing to wish for a moment’s idleness, she was permitted to go. Dido stood ready on the outside of the door to receive her; and pressing a finger to her lip in token that silence was desirable, she stepped on before her to the door which led into the lane.
There stood Cæsar impatiently waiting, and wavering between hope and fear for the will and power of his little messenger to perform her promise. “God bless y
ou, Miss Lucy!” he exclaimed eagerly the moment he saw her; “if this isn’t a glory to me! — I beg pardon for taking such a great liberty, Miss Lucy, but dear as I love the sight of you, I never would have asked such an unaccountable favour as your coming out here only for a message from Phebe, Miss Lucy.”
It will readily be supposed that poor Lucy felt no such apology necessary; but that she listened with the deepest interest to all he had to say; and Cæsar, though she occasionally hinted that she must not prolong her stay, continued to pour out so many eloquent details of his happiness and his hopes, that the minutes flew faster than either of them was aware.
It chanced that as Mr. Smith left the store of Mrs. Shepherd, he saw Whitlaw at the distance of half a dozen paces from him. His business with him was explained in a moment; and though our hero, to the best of his knowledge and belief, had never seen either Bligh or his sister in his life, he concealed the fact with his usual readiness, for the sake of “having a stare at Mrs. Shepherd’s gals.” They entered the store therefore together, when the lady welcomed the new arrival with great civility, and, fortunately for him, without making any inquiries as to the nature of the evidence which was to prove our poor Lucy to be the sister of “a man forbid.”
“Here we are in no time, Mrs. Shepherd,” said the facetious Mr. Smith, “and now, by your good will and pleasure, we’ll be after having a peep at that young miss as negro-boys are making such tender inquiries for.”
“It isn’t much in my way to show off my young ladies to gentlemen, that’s a fact, Mr. Smith: however, there may be reasons, doubtless, for setting the best rules aside. I’d better go myself, I expect, to fetch her, that she mayn’t be dashed by learning that there’s such gay gentlemen in the store.”
Having thus spoken, the stiff Mrs. Shepherd rose to leave the store; but it is probable that some misgiving, or some feeling of the necessity of an ever-watchful eye over the multitudinous articles which adorned it, caused her to check her steps; and ringing her little bell, Miss Tomkins, the lady in waiting for the day, obeyed it, and was gravely desired by her chief to take her place.
Mrs. Shepherd remained absent for some minutes, and at length returned, just as young Whitlaw, to the extreme amusement of Mr. Smith, had gone the unwarrantable length of trying a new cap on the beautifully-curled hair of Miss Tomkins.
Had the presiding lady been at all in her usual state of mind, such a spectacle would unquestionably have produced some very serious consequences: but this was, happily for the young Miss Tomkins, very far from being the case. She entered with the air of one who had made an important discovery, and not even perceiving the offending cap, which was very dexterously replaced on its own proper block by the young lady, she mysteriously beckoned to the two gentlemen to follow her.
They did so instantly, and without demanding any farther explanation than that it was her will they should do so. In less than no time, as Mr. Smith would have expressed it, they had passed through one dark and narrow passage into another which crossed it at right angles, and thence again through a kitchen and into a court, the door of which was open, and before it Lucy, in earnest but smiling conversation with the young negro who had so recently been turned with contumely from the presence of two of the persons, who now again seemed ready to launch the thunders of their indignation and contempt upon his head.
Before, however, the approaching party became visible to those without, Mr. Smith laid a band on each of his companions, and suddenly drew them back. “This is capital!” he exclaimed; “but don’t let us spoil all by being in a hurry.”
The persons he led obediently yielded to his touch, and no more was said till the kitchen was repassed and they again found themselves in the dark passage behind it.
“It would be worth a hundred dollars,” whispered Mr. Smith to his friend Mrs. Shepherd, “if we could but listen to them two a spell without being seen.”
“Nothing more easy, Mr. Smith,” replied the lady in the same tone. “Look at that bit of grating yonder; they are jest exact outside that, if I an’t mistaken.”
“Don’t speak, Whitlaw, for your life,” said Mr. Smith, gently approaching the aperture; “but jest follow me and listen.”
The ears of the two gentlemen were in a moment laid against the grating pointed out to them, and the voice of Cæsar was distinctly heard in an accent of uncontrollable delight.
“On Sunday night then, Miss Lucy, jest exact at midnight, you’ll be in the heart of the dear blessed forest, at the hollow bit, you know, jest behind the great knot of maples to the east of Fox’s clearing. Arn’t I a happy fellow now?”
“Indeed you are, Cæsar,” said the gentle voice of Lucy in reply; “but are you quite sure my brother means to preach there next Sabbath night?”
“Am I sure, Miss Lucy? Why, didn’t he tell me so himself?”
“That’s well then,” said Lucy: “and now go, dear Cæsar, — I really must stay no longer. Tell my—”
But at this moment the current of air through the bars caused Mr. Smith to sneeze violently. Lucy started away like a frightened bird in one direction, while the happy and triumphant Cæsar ran off in another. The interruption, however, was of little consequence. The one pair had said enough, and the other heard enough for all their purposes. Lucy glided quietly back to her place at the work-table, while Mrs. Shepherd and the gentlemen returned to the store, where Miss Tomkins being dismissed, a very interesting consultation took place.
“And what did you contrive to hear, gentlemen?” said Mrs. Shepherd eagerly. “I’m not that short neither, but I couldn’t manage to catch a word.”
“It don’t much matter, I take it, ma’am,” said Mr. Smith; “I expect we’ve heard enough and to spare; and since I was born, I never come near anything to pair it! Did you hear her downright call him her dear? Did you hear Whitlaw? If my hair don’t stand an end, I’ll be flogged!”
“And the preaching too; did you hear the pretty appointment she made for her brother as well as for herself?” rejoined Whitlaw. “And the girl’s not ugly to look at neither. Wouldn’t it be as well, ma’am, for us to have her in, and jest ask her a few questions?”
“I ask your pardon, Whitlaw, for stopping your frolic,” said Mr. Smith; “but that’s not the way we must manage her. Why, what would that be, but jest so much putting her upon her guard? And if we do but take care a little not to tangle our net, we shall bag ’em all, and lose none.”
“You’re right, sir, and I honour your wisdom,” replied Whitlaw. “Faith! this is no moment to be looking in a girl’s face to spy if she’s pretty. This is a capital find, Mr. Smith, and I only wish Hogstown wasn’t that far away. If he was here, I’d wager that he’d contrive to have them confounded Steinmarks in it somehow or other, as in justice they ought to be; for they are all of one kidney, I promise ye.”
“Then if Hogstown don’t come, we’ll manage it without him, Mr. Whitlaw. If they are that way minded, I don’t question as one and all they’ll be at the preaching; and if so, what’s to hinder us, as in course means to be there too I expect, from pouncing upon ’em at once, and binding ’em hand and foot, as conspirators in a negro rebellion?”
“That sounds right and feasible enough, Mr. Smith; but you’ve no guess what an old fox this German farmer is. I expect, sir, it wouldn’t be no bad scheme if you and I was to away to Mount Etna to talk to my father a spell about him. He knows the old chap better than I do, that’s a fact; and if Hogstown is right in his surmise about the precious brother of this nigger-fancying Miss, as to his being so hand and glove with the Germans I mean, where’s the difficulty but that Mr. Whitlaw of Mount Etna must know it?”
“I’ll go with you wherever you please. It’s duty and pleasure both to labour in this business. Is Mount Etna a long remove from Natchez, Mr. Whitlaw?”
“A matter of three or four mile, Mr. Smith. But I’ve got a horse, and so have you I expect; and the sooner we’re about it the better, sir.”
“You may say that, Whi
tlaw, so let’s be off. Good afternoon to you, Mrs. Shepherd: you shall have news how we prosper, depend upon me for that.”
“Thank you, sir, thank you! God knows, I shall live in hot water till I hear justice is done on this abomination set; for never did my ears hear the like before. But how long am I to bear this horrid gal in my sight, gentlemen? Do pray be speedy in taking her out of my house, for I’m sure I shall never feel safe as long as she remains in it. Who shall answer to me that she shan’t let in half a score of her nigger friends and sweethearts, gentlemen, and murder us all in our beds?”
“The business will be soon despatched, Mrs. Shepherd, depend upon it, and the gal will be safe enough out of your way. Hogstown will be back tomorrow or next day, I guess; and if things take the turn I look for, it wouldn’t do by no means to bring ’em to a conclusion without him: and as to sending the gal off at once, ’tis just giving ’em notice, and we’re stumped outright. It will be a glorious day for Natchez I promise you, Mrs. Shepherd, if we can catch a fellow preaching at midnight to the niggers. And I heard the words as plain as if they’d been spoke to me. So be patient a spell, my dear lady, and don’t spoil it good hit for a trifle.”
Collected Works of Frances Trollope Page 38