Weekly Calaveras chronicle., 1866-09-15

WOrOS.
Sam, Sam, help me, Sam! You
couldn't take me if Sam was here I'm
his wife. Sam, Sam p Then the voice
was smothered down, and those clus-
tered at the kitchen door saw Honey
dragged toward carriage, which, with
windows closely shut, was driven rapid
ly away. 1t passed the Gordons on the
, road.
Massa Charlie and Sam came home
at nightfall. Massa Charlie was nerv-
Gus. 1t was not exactly the time at
which he should have wished to find
Miss Grace Gordon spending the even
ing with his mother but he was glad
to see her, nevertheless Soon, in her
society, he forgot, or almost forgot Sam
and the scene which must soon come.
He remembered it again when Sam
came bowling to the door.
Excuse, me, Missus; can you tell
me whar l shill find Honey?'
Indeed I can't, Sam,' said Mrs
Brusle, afraid to say more. Sam went
away. He returned in ten minutes
with a frightened face. 'Missus,' he
said, 4 can't find Honey The three
looked at each other. Miss Gordon
knew that a girl had been sold, and
guessed the rest Nobody answered
'Whar's Honey?' asked Sam, speak
ing fast and loud. Then trying to laugh
! Seems me, ladies and Massa,' he said.
fac is, dem no count niggers in de
kitchen has been tryin to skeer me-
Tink it fun. l s'pose, not understandin'
how folks feel. Dey told me-law now
dem niggers-dey say-Honey's-
Sold And the last words were only
gasps, forced from lips on which white
froth had gathered as the negro stared
at his master
Charles Brusle began to guess what
be had doue.
SAM he said, don't take it hard.
I've been kind to you. I've
She's >oldl gasped Sam.
yes, Sam, she's Sold
Sam was black no longer. His skin
had taken the hue of smouldering ashes.
Il knowed it, he said, in a kind of
crushed despair. 'Kep thinkin, arter
all she don't b'long to me. Nuthin'
don't b'long to niger. But l didn't
know Massa could do it. Massa jest
gwine to hab wife hisself What's dat
de minister said? Dem dat God has
jined let no man put asunder Denis
words for white folks, not for niggers.'
Then out of the calm, as from the
lull of tornado, rushed the storm.
The passionate nature of his white faith
er, the barbaric fierceness of those who
were his mothers ancestors, blazed to-
gether in his eyes, as. turning on his
master, he cursed him with curses hor-
rible as those of the Popish excommu-
nication. 'Dere's One that's your
Massa, Massa Charles be painted at the
end-'One dat kin take dem you love
as you've taken Honey. And He'll do
it, Massa Charles-He'll do it. Black
skins don't make no difference, Massa
Charles, only p'raps Honey was moro to
ME than anybody kin be to you, for I
hadn't nothin' else. And as you've
took her He'll take some from you fore
you die
Then wild sob came like the break
ing OF a wave upon the shore, and he
had flung himself upon the ground,
writhing with the agony of his awful
woe.
Grace Gordon stood over him, Charles
Brusle knelt beside him He under
stood now. SAM he cried, Sam! 1
didn't know you felt So The trader
isn't gone. I'll have her back, Sam
l swear it! And his betrothed turned
toward him.
4 hold you to your oath,' she said.
Restore this mans wife to him or I
will never be yours l.
And there, humbled in the dust,
kissing his masters feet and the hem
of the lady's robe, knelt the slave man.
The little carriage was at the door,
the horses harnessed by fingers tremb-
ling with eagerness. Massa Charles
and Grace sat within, and Sam begged
to drive.
Tll drive faster than anybody else,'
he said. Least l shill think so, and
think Honey knows it And the
whirling wheels flung the dust on high,
and half hid the horses in gray cloud.
Soon dusky in the moonlight loomed
the traders house
They could see the lights in its win
dows, hear voices within Alighting at
the veraDda they saw figure upon it
to their surprise the Rev. Oliver
Huile. He only gave them gloomy
bow Then the door opened and they
faced the trader.
The glrl-Honey-you have her
YETI asked Charles Brusle, in breath.
The trader nodded.
That was good spec of yours, Sir
he said. You're one for luck, reck-
on. 'Tan't on my hands, though, that's
a blessin.'
And filling them with an undefnable
terror, he opened another door and
ushered them in. An old negress sat
crouched upon low stool A light
burned dimly. By its ray they saw
cot with coarse check covering, and
woman lying upon it with newborn
infant at her breast Sam gave scream
Of joy. He rushed forward; he flung
aside the dfapery and bent over the cot,
looking into the faces of the wife he
loved and the child he had not yet
seen.
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