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Sapphira and the Slave Girl

Book VIII The Dark Autumn I
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mrs. bywaters’s youngest son walked into mrs. blake’s yard one morning with a letter. she was sitting in her parlour by an open window, sewing. he took off his cap and went to speak to her through the window:

“good day, mrs. blake. i brought a letter for you. mother said it must have been slipped into the letter-box late last night, for she didn’t find it till she was stamping the mail for the stage this morning. she thought it might be important, so she sent me down with it.”

“thank you, jonathan. that was real thoughtful of your mother.”

after jonathan went away, mrs. blake sat contemplating the envelope he had brought. it was addressed in her mother’s neat handwriting. she had heard nothing from the mill farm since her return from winchester by stage three days ago — except from bluebell. that spineless darky girl (doubtless sent by lizzie) had come across the meadow after dark and guilelessly asked mrs. blake if she had seen nothin’ of nancy lately. nobody at home had seen her, an’ they was a-gittin’ right worried. taylor he thought they ought to drag the mill dam, but trudy said maybe she was a-stayin’ over to miz blake’s, or was some’ers miz blake knowed about.

no, mrs. blake knew nothing of nancy’s whereabouts, and bluebell had better run along home, as mrs. blake was going to a prayer meeting at the church.

“yes’m. i’s a-goin’. we cain’t find out nothin’ at home, ‘cause miss sapphy ain’t once spoke nancy’s name since we foun’ her bed empty one mawnin’. an’ till ain’t spoke her name, nuther. when maw axed her where was nancy, she jist tole her to mind her business. but we ‘speck till had some talk wid de missus, ‘cause right from the fust day till’s been doin’ master’s room an’ mr. martin’s. seem like till don’t miss her gal much. las’ night when taylor axed her mus’ he drag de mill dam, she tole him he could do what he pleased, an’ not to come pesterin’ her.”

mrs. blake resolutely put on her bonnet and pointed to the kitchen door. when bluebell went out, she shut it behind her and drew the bolt. this was the only word she had had from the mill people.

the letter jonathan had brought was doubtless something final, since it bore a stamp and came through the post office. people on back creek did not send letters to their neighbours through the post. a note to be sent up or down the road was not even put into an envelope. it was folded, turned down at one corner, and carried to the addressee by one of the boys or girls about the place. government stamps were considered an extravagance. at last mrs. blake opened the letter and read:

mistress blake is kindly requested to make no further visits at the mill house.

sapphira dodderidge colbert

well, that was best, mrs. blake agreed, as she folded up the paper. her mother would meet this situation with dignity, as she had met other misfortunes. she would not set the slave-catchers on to track nancy. she would not question anyone. she knew, of course, that the girl could never have got away without help, and this letter told that she understood who had contrived her escape. the colbert darkies must know that mrs. blake’s house had been closed for two days, and that mary and betty stayed with mrs. bywaters while their mother was away. she was sorriest for the hurt this would be to her mother’s pride. nancy’s disappearance would be the talk of the neighbourhood. every time mrs. colbert drove out she would meet inquiring faces. the whisperings and surmises among her own servants would be a trial to her. mrs. blake knew how her mother hated to be overreached or outwitted, and she was sorry to have brought another humiliation to one who had already lost so much: her activity on horse and foot, her fine figure and rosy complexion.

the property loss mrs. colbert would bear lightly. tansy dave was certainly a property loss, and she had never complained or tried to punish him. but if he had actually run away and stayed in baltimore, his mistress would likely enough have had him seized and brought back.

a girl like nancy, refined and very pretty, skilful with her needle and in chamber work, would easily fetch a thousand dollars, maybe more. but mrs. blake did her mother the justice to believe that this money out was not the thing that cut to the quick. she unfolded the letter again, and as she looked at it, tears rose slowly to her eyes.

“it’s hard for a body to know what to do, sometimes,” she murmured to herself. “i hate to mortify her. maybe i ought to a-thought about how much she suffers, and her poor feet, like nancy said to me that night in the dark cabin by that roaring river. maybe i ought to have thought and waited.”

all through the month of august mrs. blake was busy sewing for her girls, to get them ready for school. she saw no one from the mill house except her father, who walked home with her from church every sunday. nancy’s name was never mentioned between them.

one sunday morning fat lizzie caught mrs. blake outside the church door and came at her. “howdy, miz blake. now maybe you knows when nancy is comin’ home? i axed miss sapphy only yiste’day, an’ she says to me she s’posed nancy’d come back from ches’nut hill when she was sent fur. now tap come up wid a nigger from ches’nut hill in winchester, an’ he tells tap dey ain’t never seen sight a’ nancy down dar. it begins to look like taylor’s right, an’ she drownded herse’f in de dam. he says dat’s all a pack a’ lies ‘bout dem risin’ to de top in fo’ days. she might easy a-ketched on a big root an’ be down dar still.”

by this time a dozen eager listeners had gathered round, and mrs. blake gave lizzie a dark look. “here comes your master. you had better ask him.”

lizzie turned and saw the miller coming up the path. with a “god a’mighty!” she hurried into the church and up the narrow stairs to the gallery as fast as a woman of her figure could go.

after the first october frosts, when everyone went into the woods to gather chestnuts and hickory nuts, mrs. blake and her two little girls happened to come upon a nutting party from the mill house. till was among them. she met mrs. blake with such warmth as she seldom betrayed and called her by her given name.

“it’s surely nice to lay eyes on you agin, miss rachel. it does me good to see you lookin’ fine and hearty.”

mrs. blake asked after her mother’s health.

“i’m right worried about her, miss rachel. doctor clavenger comes out from winchester every week to see her. sometimes he draws the water off, an’ then she’s easier. she don’t git up for breakfast no more. she stays in bed all day till i dresses her an’ takes her into the parlour for tea.”

their talk was suddenly interrupted by shouts and scrambling. tap, the nimblest of the mill boys, had climbed a tall chestnut tree and was thrashing the branches with a pole. the little darkies shouted as the nuts showered down, and all the women fell on their knees and began scratching among the dried leaves and stuffing the nuts into their bags and baskets. till and mrs. blake picked side by side, and once when they were bending over close together, till asked in a low, cautious murmur: “you ain’t heard nothin’, miss rachel?”

“not yet. when i do hear, i’ll let you know. i saw her into good hands, till. i don’t doubt she’s in canada by this time, amongst english people.”

“thank you, mam, miss rachel. i can’t say no more. i don’t want them niggers to see me cryin’. if she’s up there with the english folks, she’ll have some chance.”

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