Mrs. Shelby had gone on her visit, and Eliza stood in the verandah,rather dejectedly looking after the retreating carriage, when a hand waslaid on her shoulder. She turned, and a bright smile lighted up her fineeyes.

"George, is it you? How you frightened me! Well; I am so glad you 'scome! Missis is gone to spend the afternoon; so come into my littleroom, and we'll have the time all to ourselves."

Saying this, she drew him into a neat little apartment opening on theverandah, where she generally sat at her sewing, within call of hermistress.

"How glad I am!--why don't you smile?--and look at Harry--how he grows."The boy stood shyly regarding his father through his curls, holdingclose to the skirts of his mother's dress. "Isn't he beautiful?" saidEliza, lifting his long curls and kissing him.

"I wish he'd never been born!" said George, bitterly. "I wish I'd neverbeen born myself!"

Surprised and frightened, Eliza sat down, leaned her head on herhusband's shoulder, and burst into tears.

"There now, Eliza, it's too bad for me to make you feel so, poor girl!"said he, fondly; "it's too bad: O, how I wish you never had seen me--youmight have been happy!"

"George! George! how can you talk so? What dreadful thing has happened,or is going to happen? I'm sure we've been very happy, till lately."

"So we have, dear," said George. Then drawing his child on his knee, hegazed intently on his glorious dark eyes, and passed his hands throughhis long curls.

"Just like you, Eliza; and you are the handsomest woman I ever saw, andthe best one I ever wish to see; but, oh, I wish I'd never seen you, noryou me!"

"O, George, how can you!"

"Yes, Eliza, it's all misery, misery, misery! My life is bitter aswormwood; the very life is burning out of me. I'm a poor, miserable,forlorn drudge; I shall only drag you down with me, that's all. What'sthe use of our trying to do anything, trying to know anything, trying tobe anything? What's the use of living? I wish I was dead!"

"O, now, dear George, that is really wicked! I know how you feel aboutlosing your place in the factory, and you have a hard master; but praybe patient, and perhaps something--"

"Patient!" said he, interrupting her; "haven't I been patient? Did I saya word when he came and took me away, for no earthly reason, from theplace where everybody was kind to me? I'd paid him truly every cent ofmy earnings,--and they all say I worked well."

"Well, it _is_ dreadful," said Eliza; "but, after all, he is yourmaster, you know."

"My master! and who made him my master? That's what I think of--whatright has he to me? I'm a man as much as he is. I'm a better man than heis. I know more about business than he does; I am a better manager thanhe is; I can read better than he can; I can write a better hand,--andI've learned it all myself, and no thanks to him,--I've learned it inspite of him; and now what right has he to make a dray-horse of me?--totake me from things I can do, and do better than he can, and put me towork that any horse can do? He tries to do it; he says he'll bring medown and humble me, and he puts me to just the hardest, meanest anddirtiest work, on purpose!"

"O, George! George! you frighten me! Why, I never heard you talk so; I'mafraid you'll do something dreadful. I don't wonder at your feelings, atall; but oh, do be careful--do, do--for my sake--for Harry's!"

"I have been careful, and I have been patient, but it's growing worseand worse; flesh and blood can't bear it any longer;--every chance hecan get to insult and torment me, he takes. I thought I could do my workwell, and keep on quiet, and have some time to read and learn out ofwork hours; but the more he sees I can do, the more he loads on. He saysthat though I don't say anything, he sees I've got the devil in me, andhe means to bring it out; and one of these days it will come out in away that he won't like, or I'm mistaken!"

"O dear! what shall we do?" said Eliza, mournfully.

"It was only yesterday," said George, "as I was busy loading stones intoa cart, that young Mas'r Tom stood there, slashing his whip so near thehorse that the creature was frightened. I asked him to stop, as pleasantas I could,--he just kept right on. I begged him again, and then heturned on me, and began striking me. I held his hand, and then hescreamed and kicked and ran to his father, and told him that I wasfighting him. He came in a rage, and said he'd teach me who was mymaster; and he tied me to a tree, and cut switches for young master, andtold him that he might whip me till he was tired;--and he did do it! IfI don't make him remember it, some time!" and the brow of the young mangrew dark, and his eyes burned with an expression that made his youngwife tremble. "Who made this man my master? That's what I want to know!"he said.

"Well," said Eliza, mournfully, "I always thought that I must obey mymaster and mistress, or I couldn't be a Christian."

"There is some sense in it, in your case; they have brought you up likea child, fed you, clothed you, indulged you, and taught you, so that youhave a good education; that is some reason why they should claim you.But I have been kicked and cuffed and sworn at, and at the best only letalone; and what do I owe? I've paid for all my keeping a hundred timesover. I _won't_ bear it. No, I _won't_!" he said, clenching his handwith a fierce frown.

Eliza trembled, and was silent. She had never seen her husband in thismood before; and her gentle system of ethics seemed to bend like a reedin the surges of such passions.

"You know poor little Carlo, that you gave me," added George; "thecreature has been about all the comfort that I've had. He has slept withme nights, and followed me around days, and kind o' looked at me as ifhe understood how I felt. Well, the other day I was just feeding himwith a few old scraps I picked up by the kitchen door, and Mas'rcame along, and said I was feeding him up at his expense, and that hecouldn't afford to have every nigger keeping his dog, and ordered me totie a stone to his neck and throw him in the pond."

"O, George, you didn't do it!"

"Do it? not I!--but he did. Mas'r and Tom pelted the poor drowningcreature with stones. Poor thing! he looked at me so mournful, as ifhe wondered why I didn't save him. I had to take a flogging because Iwouldn't do it myself. I don't care. Mas'r will find out that I'm onethat whipping won't tame. My day will come yet, if he don't look out."

"What are you going to do? O, George, don't do anything wicked; if youonly trust in God, and try to do right, he'll deliver you."

"I an't a Christian like you, Eliza; my heart's full of bitterness; Ican't trust in God. Why does he let things be so?"

"O, George, we must have faith. Mistress says that when all things gowrong to us, we must believe that God is doing the very best."

"That's easy to say for people that are sitting on their sofas andriding in their carriages; but let 'em be where I am, I guess it wouldcome some harder. I wish I could be good; but my heart burns, and can'tbe reconciled, anyhow. You couldn't in my place,--you can't now, if Itell you all I've got to say. You don't know the whole yet."

"What can be coming now?"

"Well, lately Mas'r has been saying that he was a fool to let me marryoff the place; that he hates Mr. Shelby and all his tribe, because theyare proud, and hold their heads up above him, and that I've got proudnotions from you; and he says he won't let me come here any more, andthat I shall take a wife and settle down on his place. At first heonly scolded and grumbled these things; but yesterday he told me that Ishould take Mina for a wife, and settle down in a cabin with her, or hewould sell me down river."

"Why--but you were married to _me_, by the minister, as much as if you'dbeen a white man!" said Eliza, simply.

"Don't you know a slave can't be married? There is no law in thiscountry for that; I can't hold you for my wife, if he chooses to partus. That's why I wish I'd never seen you,--why I wish I'd never beenborn; it would have been better for us both,--it would have been betterfor this poor child if he had never been born. All this may happen tohim yet!"

"O, but master is so kind!"

"Yes, but who knows?--he may die--and then he may be sold to nobodyknows who. What pleasure is it that he is handsome, and smart, andbright? I tell you, Eliza, that a sword will pierce through your soulfor every good and pleasant thing your child is or has; it will make himworth too much for you to keep."

The words smote heavily on Eliza's heart; the vision of the trader camebefore her eyes, and, as if some one had struck her a deadly blow,she turned pale and gasped for breath. She looked nervously out on theverandah, where the boy, tired of the grave conversation, had retired,and where he was riding triumphantly up and down on Mr. Shelby'swalking-stick. She would have spoken to tell her husband her fears, butchecked herself.

"No, no,--he has enough to bear, poor fellow!" she thought. "No, I won'ttell him; besides, it an't true; Missis never deceives us."

"So, Eliza, my girl," said the husband, mournfully, "bear up, now; andgood-by, for I'm going."

"Going, George! Going where?"

"To Canada," said he, straightening himself up; "and when I'm there, I'llbuy you; that's all the hope that's left us. You have a kind master,that won't refuse to sell you. I'll buy you and the boy;--God helpingme, I will!"

"O, dreadful! if you should be taken?"

"I won't be taken, Eliza; I'll _die_ first! I'll be free, or I'll die!"

"You won't kill yourself!"

"No need of that. They will kill me, fast enough; they never will get medown the river alive!"

"O, George, for my sake, do be careful! Don't do anything wicked; don'tlay hands on yourself, or anybody else! You are tempted too much--toomuch; but don't--go you must--but go carefully, prudently; pray God tohelp you."

"Well, then, Eliza, hear my plan. Mas'r took it into his head to sendme right by here, with a note to Mr. Symmes, that lives a mile past. Ibelieve he expected I should come here to tell you what I have. It wouldplease him, if he thought it would aggravate 'Shelby's folks,' as hecalls 'em. I'm going home quite resigned, you understand, as if all wasover. I've got some preparations made,--and there are those that willhelp me; and, in the course of a week or so, I shall be among themissing, some day. Pray for me, Eliza; perhaps the good Lord will hear_you_."

"O, pray yourself, George, and go trusting in him; then you won't doanything wicked."

"Well, now, _good-by_," said George, holding Eliza's hands, and gazinginto her eyes, without moving. They stood silent; then there were lastwords, and sobs, and bitter weeping,--such parting as those may makewhose hope to meet again is as the spider's web,--and the husband andwife were parted.