The Harvest of Years Part 34

"If father could find work here it would be nice," and a little while after, he said in a low tone:

"There ain't any rum shops here, is there?"

He was a tender plant, touchingly sensitive, and when I told him we were to send word to his mother that he liked his home, his joy was a pleasure to witness.

"Miss North says we may have some flowers, and we'd better go back, Willie, and see about getting the spot ready--she had her seed box out last night, but I guess she'll give us plants too, to put in the ground."

He was very thoughtful, and would not stay too long for anything, he said. Aunt Hildy looked after them, and sighed with the thoughts that rose within, but said no word.

The three weeks of Mr. and Mrs. Waterman's stay were at an end.

"On the morrow," said Mary, "we go to Aunty Goodwin's. I want to go, and dread to leave. But is that Matthias coming over the hill? It is, and I have something to tell him. I have meant to do it before, but there was really no opportunity. Come out with me, and let's sit down under the elm tree while I tell him. Come, Allie," and she lifted the blue-eyed baby tenderly. Oh, how sweet she was! and I wondered how we could bear to lose her. She crowed with delight at Matthias' approach, and at Mary's suggestion he took a seat beside us.

"I have something to tell you now; open wide your ears, Uncle Peter."

"What's dat you say, Miss Molly; got some news from home?"

"Yes, I have news for you from your own."

"Oh, Miss Molly, don't for de Lord's sake wait a minit!"

"Your wife, whom Mr. Sumner so cruelly sold for you, is very happy now, for she is free, Matthias."

"Done gone to hevin, does you mean? Tell it all," said the old man, who trembled visibly.

"She did not live two months, but she was in good hands. I accidentally met her mistress, who told me about her. She said she had kept her in the house to wait on her, for she liked her very much. But she seemed sad, and grew tired, and one morning she did not appear, and they found her in her little room, next that of Mrs. Sanders, quite dead and looking peaceful and happy. Her mistress felt badly, for she meant to do well by her. They thought some heart trouble caused her death."

"Oh, my! oh, my! dat heart ob hern was done broke when dat man sold our little gal. Oh, I knowed it ud neber heal up agin! but tank de Lord she's free up dar. Oh, Miss Emily! can't no murderers go in troo de gate? Dat Mas'r Sumner can't neber get dar any more, Miss Molly?"

"Yes, Matthias. Dry your tears, for I've something good to tell. Your oldest boy, John, has a good master, and is buying his freedom. They help him along. He drives a team, and is a splendid fellow. He will be free soon, and will come to see you, perhaps to live with you. This is all I know, but isn't it a great deal?"

Matthias stood on his feet, his eyes dilating as they turned full on Mary, his hands clenched, his form raised as erect as it was possible for him, and his breast heaving with great emotion, as from his lips came slowly these words:

"Do you mean it, Miss Molly? Is you foolin, or is you in dead earnest for sartin?"

"It is truth, every word I say."

"Oh, oh, oh!" and he sank on the seat beside us, covering his face with both hands, while tears fell at his feet, and as they touched the gra.s.s they shone in the sun like large round drops of dew. I thought they were as white and pure as though his skin was fair. And he wept not alone, for we wept with him.

Allie reached to bury her fingers in his ma.s.s of woolly, curling hair, and as he felt their tender tips, he raised his head and put out his hands to her, saying:

"Come, picaninny, come and help me be glad. Oh, Canaan, bright Canaan!

Oh, de Lord has hearn my prayer an' what kin I say, what kin I do, an'

how kin I wait fur to see dat chile? He's jes like his mother, pooty, I know. Oh, picaninny, holler louder! le's tell it to the people that my John is a comin' fur to see me, dat he haint got no use fur a mas'r any more," and up and down he walked before us, while Allie made demonstrations of joy.

It was a strange picture. "Oh, Canaan!" still he sang, and "De New Jerusalem," until I really feared his joy would overcome him, and was glad to see Louis coming toward us. He took a seat beside me, and I was about to tell him the wonderful news, when Matthias, who noticed him, handed Allie to her mother, and falling on his knees before Louis, cried aloud:

"Oh, Mas'r Louis, help me, for de good Lord's sake! will you help me, Mas'r Louis?"

"Oh, yes, my dear fellow!" and he laid his hand on him tenderly; "tell me just what you want me to do."

"Oh, my boy! Miss Molly tells me my own boy John have got his freedom mos out, an' he's comin' to find me. I can't wait, Mas'r Louis; 'pears like a day'll be a year. I mout die, he mout die too. I'll sen' him my buryin' money, an' ef tant enough, can't you sen' a little more? an'

I'll work it out, I will, sure, an' no mistake; fur de sake of the right, Mas'r Louis, an' for to make my ole heart glad. Will you do it?"

"I certainly will, Matthias; but you are excited now."

"Bless ye. May de heavins open fur to swallow me in ef I don't clar up ebery cent you pays fur me. But you can't tell. Oh, ye don't know!" and again he walked, clapped his hands, and sang, "Oh, Canaan, bright Canaan!" till, pausing suddenly, he said, "Guess I better shuffle ober to tell Peg--'pears like I'm done gone clar out whar I can't know nothin';" and with "good arternoon" he left us, swinging his hat in his hand, and singing still "Oh, Canaan!" as he traveled over the hill toward home.

We were all glad for Matthias, and Clara said:

"Let us rejoice with them that rejoice; and Louis, my dear boy, write at once to the gentleman who owns John, and pay him whatever he says is due. We can do it, and we should, for the poor, tired heart of his father cannot afford to wait when a promise lies so near. Let us help him to lay hold upon it."

"Amen," said Aunt Hildy. "I'll help ten dollars' worth; taint much."

"But you shall keep it for John," said Clara; "he will need something after he gets here."

The next morning Matthias came to deliver his bank-book to Louis, saying:

"Get the buryin' money; get it and send it fur me, please."

Louis told him to keep his bank-book.

"You shall see your boy as soon as money can get him here."

"Oh, Mas'r Louis!" and he grasped both his hands; "de Lord help this ole n.i.g.g.e.r to pay you. I's willin' to work dese fingers clean to de bone."

Our two boys got on bravely. The first Sat.u.r.day night we sent them home with loaded baskets, and each with a pail of new milk, which we knew would be a treat to the children, and in their little purses the amount promised by Louis. Matthias took them to their homes, and Louis went for them on Monday morning, and when he returned he said:

"The pictures are growing, Emily. Bright eyes and rosy cheeks will come soon."

Mr. and Mrs. Waterman were leaving us. We were kissing "our baby"

good-bye. How we disliked to say the word! And when looking back at Matthias after we started, she cried, "Mah, mah!" I laughed and cried together. Louis and I parted with them reluctantly at the depot, and our last words were:

"Send John right along."

"We will," they answered, as the train rode away and baby Allie pressed her shining face against the window. It was only two weeks and two days from that day that Louis, Clara and I (she said after our marriage "Call me Clara, for we are sisters--never say 'mother Desmonde;' to say mother when you have such a blessed one of your own is robbery to her") drove to the depot to meet John. Matthias said to us,

"You go fur him, ef you please, fur I can never meet him in de crowd; I want to wait by de road an' see him c.u.m along. Mighty feared I'll make a noony o' myself."

The train stopped, and Louis left us in the carriage and went to find him. My heart jumped as I thought he might not be there, but ere I had time to say it to Clara, he came in sight, walking proudly erect by the side of Louis, as handsome a colored man as could be seen. He was quite light, tall as Louis, and well proportioned, his mouth pleasantly shaped and not large, his nose suited to a Greek rather than to a negro, and over his forehead, which was broad and full, black hair fell in tight-curling rings,--resembling Matthias in nothing save perhaps his eyes. It did not seem possible this could be a man coming from the power of a master--how I dislike that term, a slave--this n.o.ble looking fellow; I shuddered involuntarily, and grasped his hand in welcome with a fervent "G.o.d bless you, John; I welcome you heartily." Clara stretched forth her little hand also, saying:

"John, you can never know how glad we are." He stood with his hat raised, and his large beautiful eyes turned toward us filled with feeling as he answered:

"Ladies, you can never realize the debt I have to pay you. It seems a dream that I am here, a free man with an old father waiting to see his son; oh, sir," and he turned to Louis, "my heart is full!"

"We do not doubt it, dear fellow, but get into the carriage and let Gipsy take us to the hills. She knows your father waits. Now go, Gipsy,"

and the willing creature seemed inspired, going at a quick pace as if she understood her mission.

I saw Matthias sitting on a log a little this side of our home, shading his eyes with his hand, and when John spied him, he laid his hand on his heart and said: