Mr. and Mrs. Shelby had retired to their apartment for the night. He waslounging in a large easy-chair, looking over some letters that had comein the afternoon mail, and she was standing before her mirror, brushingout the complicated braids and curls in which Eliza had arranged herhair; for, noticing her pale cheeks and haggard eyes, she had excusedher attendance that night, and ordered her to bed. The employment,naturally enough, suggested her conversation with the girl in themorning; and turning to her husband, she said, carelessly,

"By the by, Arthur, who was that low-bred fellow that you lugged in toour dinner-table today?"

"Haley is his name," said Shelby, turning himself rather uneasily in hischair, and continuing with his eyes fixed on a letter.

"Haley! Who is he, and what may be his business here, pray?"

"Well, he's a man that I transacted some business with, last time I wasat Natchez," said Mr. Shelby.

"And he presumed on it to make himself quite at home, and call and dinehere, ay?"

"Why, I invited him; I had some accounts with him," said Shelby.

"Is he a negro-trader?" said Mrs. Shelby, noticing a certainembarrassment in her husband's manner.

"Why, my dear, what put that into your head?" said Shelby, looking up.

"Nothing,--only Eliza came in here, after dinner, in a great worry,crying and taking on, and said you were talking with a trader, and thatshe heard him make an offer for her boy--the ridiculous little goose!"

"She did, hey?" said Mr. Shelby, returning to his paper, which he seemedfor a few moments quite intent upon, not perceiving that he was holdingit bottom upwards.

"It will have to come out," said he, mentally; "as well now as ever."

"I told Eliza," said Mrs. Shelby, as she continued brushing her hair,"that she was a little fool for her pains, and that you never hadanything to do with that sort of persons. Of course, I knew you nevermeant to sell any of our people,--least of all, to such a fellow."

"Well, Emily," said her husband, "so I have always felt and said; butthe fact is that my business lies so that I cannot get on without. Ishall have to sell some of my hands."

"To that creature? Impossible! Mr. Shelby, you cannot be serious."

"I'm sorry to say that I am," said Mr. Shelby. "I've agreed to sellTom."

"What! our Tom?--that good, faithful creature!--been your faithfulservant from a boy! O, Mr. Shelby!--and you have promised him hisfreedom, too,--you and I have spoken to him a hundred times of it. Well,I can believe anything now,--I can believe _now_ that you could selllittle Harry, poor Eliza's only child!" said Mrs. Shelby, in a tonebetween grief and indignation.

"Well, since you must know all, it is so. I have agreed to sell Tomand Harry both; and I don't know why I am to be rated, as if I were amonster, for doing what every one does every day."

"But why, of all others, choose these?" said Mrs. Shelby. "Why sellthem, of all on the place, if you must sell at all?"

"Because they will bring the highest sum of any,--that's why. I couldchoose another, if you say so. The fellow made me a high bid on Eliza,if that would suit you any better," said Mr. Shelby.

"The wretch!" said Mrs. Shelby, vehemently.

"Well, I didn't listen to it, a moment,--out of regard to your feelings,I wouldn't;--so give me some credit."

"My dear," said Mrs. Shelby, recollecting herself, "forgive me. I havebeen hasty. I was surprised, and entirely unprepared for this;--butsurely you will allow me to intercede for these poor creatures. Tom isa noble-hearted, faithful fellow, if he is black. I do believe, Mr.Shelby, that if he were put to it, he would lay down his life for you."

"I know it,--I dare say;--but what's the use of all this?--I can't helpmyself."

"Why not make a pecuniary sacrifice? I'm willing to bear my part of theinconvenience. O, Mr. Shelby, I have tried--tried most faithfully, as aChristian woman should--to do my duty to these poor, simple, dependentcreatures. I have cared for them, instructed them, watched over them,and know all their little cares and joys, for years; and how can I everhold up my head again among them, if, for the sake of a little paltrygain, we sell such a faithful, excellent, confiding creature as poorTom, and tear from him in a moment all we have taught him to love andvalue? I have taught them the duties of the family, of parent andchild, and husband and wife; and how can I bear to have this openacknowledgment that we care for no tie, no duty, no relation, howeversacred, compared with money? I have talked with Eliza about her boy--herduty to him as a Christian mother, to watch over him, pray for him, andbring him up in a Christian way; and now what can I say, if you tear himaway, and sell him, soul and body, to a profane, unprincipled man, justto save a little money? I have told her that one soul is worth more thanall the money in the world; and how will she believe me when she seesus turn round and sell her child?--sell him, perhaps, to certain ruin ofbody and soul!"

"I'm sorry you feel so about it,--indeed I am," said Mr. Shelby; "andI respect your feelings, too, though I don't pretend to share them totheir full extent; but I tell you now, solemnly, it's of no use--I can'thelp myself. I didn't mean to tell you this Emily; but, in plain words,there is no choice between selling these two and selling everything.Either they must go, or _all_ must. Haley has come into possession ofa mortgage, which, if I don't clear off with him directly, will takeeverything before it. I've raked, and scraped, and borrowed, and all butbegged,--and the price of these two was needed to make up the balance,and I had to give them up. Haley fancied the child; he agreed to settlethe matter that way, and no other. I was in his power, and _had_ to doit. If you feel so to have them sold, would it be any better to have_all_ sold?"

Mrs. Shelby stood like one stricken. Finally, turning to her toilet, sherested her face in her hands, and gave a sort of groan.

"This is God's curse on slavery!--a bitter, bitter, most accursedthing!--a curse to the master and a curse to the slave! I was a fool tothink I could make anything good out of such a deadly evil. It is a sinto hold a slave under laws like ours,--I always felt it was,--I alwaysthought so when I was a girl,--I thought so still more after I joinedthe church; but I thought I could gild it over,--I thought, by kindness,and care, and instruction, I could make the condition of mine betterthan freedom--fool that I was!"

"Why, wife, you are getting to be an abolitionist, quite."

"Abolitionist! if they knew all I know about slavery, they _might_ talk!We don't need them to tell us; you know I never thought that slavery wasright--never felt willing to own slaves."

"Well, therein you differ from many wise and pious men," said Mr.Shelby. "You remember Mr. B.'s sermon, the other Sunday?"

"I don't want to hear such sermons; I never wish to hear Mr. B. in ourchurch again. Ministers can't help the evil, perhaps,--can't cure it,any more than we can,--but defend it!--it always went against my commonsense. And I think you didn't think much of that sermon, either."

"Well," said Shelby, "I must say these ministers sometimes carry mattersfurther than we poor sinners would exactly dare to do. We men of theworld must wink pretty hard at various things, and get used to a dealthat isn't the exact thing. But we don't quite fancy, when women andministers come out broad and square, and go beyond us in matters ofeither modesty or morals, that's a fact. But now, my dear, I trust yousee the necessity of the thing, and you see that I have done the verybest that circumstances would allow."

"O yes, yes!" said Mrs. Shelby, hurriedly and abstractedly fingeringher gold watch,--"I haven't any jewelry of any amount," she added,thoughtfully; "but would not this watch do something?--it was anexpensive one, when it was bought. If I could only at least save Eliza'schild, I would sacrifice anything I have."

"I'm sorry, very sorry, Emily," said Mr. Shelby, "I'm sorry this takeshold of you so; but it will do no good. The fact is, Emily, the thing'sdone; the bills of sale are already signed, and in Haley's hands; andyou must be thankful it is no worse. That man has had it in his powerto ruin us all,--and now he is fairly off. If you knew the man as I do,you'd think that we had had a narrow escape."

"Is he so hard, then?"

"Why, not a cruel man, exactly, but a man of leather,--a man alive tonothing but trade and profit,--cool, and unhesitating, and unrelenting,as death and the grave. He'd sell his own mother at a goodpercentage--not wishing the old woman any harm, either."

"And this wretch owns that good, faithful Tom, and Eliza's child!"

"Well, my dear, the fact is that this goes rather hard with me; it'sa thing I hate to think of. Haley wants to drive matters, and takepossession tomorrow. I'm going to get out my horse bright and early,and be off. I can't see Tom, that's a fact; and you had better arrange adrive somewhere, and carry Eliza off. Let the thing be done when she isout of sight."

"No, no," said Mrs. Shelby; "I'll be in no sense accomplice or help inthis cruel business. I'll go and see poor old Tom, God help him, in hisdistress! They shall see, at any rate, that their mistress can feel forand with them. As to Eliza, I dare not think about it. The Lord forgiveus! What have we done, that this cruel necessity should come on us?"

There was one listener to this conversation whom Mr. and Mrs. Shelbylittle suspected.

Communicating with their apartment was a large closet, opening by a doorinto the outer passage. When Mrs. Shelby had dismissed Eliza for thenight, her feverish and excited mind had suggested the idea of thiscloset; and she had hidden herself there, and, with her ear pressedclose against the crack of the door, had lost not a word of theconversation.

When the voices died into silence, she rose and crept stealthily away.Pale, shivering, with rigid features and compressed lips, she lookedan entirely altered being from the soft and timid creature she had beenhitherto. She moved cautiously along the entry, paused one moment at hermistress' door, and raised her hands in mute appeal to Heaven, and thenturned and glided into her own room. It was a quiet, neat apartment,on the same floor with her mistress. There was a pleasant sunny window,where she had often sat singing at her sewing; there a little case ofbooks, and various little fancy articles, ranged by them, the gifts ofChristmas holidays; there was her simple wardrobe in the closet and inthe drawers:--here was, in short, her home; and, on the whole, a happyone it had been to her. But there, on the bed, lay her slumbering boy,his long curls falling negligently around his unconscious face, his rosymouth half open, his little fat hands thrown out over the bedclothes,and a smile spread like a sunbeam over his whole face.

"Poor boy! poor fellow!" said Eliza; "they have sold you! but yourmother will save you yet!"

No tear dropped over that pillow; in such straits as these, the hearthas no tears to give,--it drops only blood, bleeding itself away insilence. She took a piece of paper and a pencil, and wrote, hastily,

"O, Missis! dear Missis! don't think me ungrateful,--don't think hard ofme, any way,--I heard all you and master said tonight. I am going to tryto save my boy--you will not blame me! God bless and reward you for allyour kindness!"

Hastily folding and directing this, she went to a drawer and made upa little package of clothing for her boy, which she tied with ahandkerchief firmly round her waist; and, so fond is a mother'sremembrance, that, even in the terrors of that hour, she did not forgetto put in the little package one or two of his favorite toys, reservinga gayly painted parrot to amuse him, when she should be called on toawaken him. It was some trouble to arouse the little sleeper; but, aftersome effort, he sat up, and was playing with his bird, while his motherwas putting on her bonnet and shawl.

"Where are you going, mother?" said he, as she drew near the bed, withhis little coat and cap.

His mother drew near, and looked so earnestly into his eyes, that he atonce divined that something unusual was the matter.

"Hush, Harry," she said; "mustn't speak loud, or they will hear us. Awicked man was coming to take little Harry away from his mother, andcarry him 'way off in the dark; but mother won't let him--she's going toput on her little boy's cap and coat, and run off with him, so the uglyman can't catch him."

Saying these words, she had tied and buttoned on the child's simpleoutfit, and, taking him in her arms, she whispered to him to bevery still; and, opening a door in her room which led into the outerverandah, she glided noiselessly out.

It was a sparkling, frosty, starlight night, and the mother wrapped theshawl close round her child, as, perfectly quiet with vague terror, heclung round her neck.

Old Bruno, a great Newfoundland, who slept at the end of the porch,rose, with a low growl, as she came near. She gently spoke his name,and the animal, an old pet and playmate of hers, instantly, wagging histail, prepared to follow her, though apparently revolving much, in thissimple dog's head, what such an indiscreet midnight promenade mightmean. Some dim ideas of imprudence or impropriety in the measure seemedto embarrass him considerably; for he often stopped, as Eliza glidedforward, and looked wistfully, first at her and then at the house, andthen, as if reassured by reflection, he pattered along after her again.A few minutes brought them to the window of Uncle Tom's cottage, andEliza stopping, tapped lightly on the window-pane.

The prayer-meeting at Uncle Tom's had, in the order of hymn-singing,been protracted to a very late hour; and, as Uncle Tom had indulgedhimself in a few lengthy solos afterwards, the consequence was, that,although it was now between twelve and one o'clock, he and his worthyhelpmeet were not yet asleep.

"Good Lord! what's that?" said Aunt Chloe, starting up and hastilydrawing the curtain. "My sakes alive, if it an't Lizy! Get on yourclothes, old man, quick!--there's old Bruno, too, a pawin round; what onairth! I'm gwine to open the door."

And suiting the action to the word, the door flew open, and the lightof the tallow candle, which Tom had hastily lighted, fell on the haggardface and dark, wild eyes of the fugitive.

"Lord bless you!--I'm skeered to look at ye, Lizy! Are ye tuck sick, orwhat's come over ye?"

"I'm running away--Uncle Tom and Aunt Chloe--carrying off mychild--Master sold him!"

"Sold him?" echoed both, lifting up their hands in dismay.

"Yes, sold him!" said Eliza, firmly; "I crept into the closet byMistress' door tonight, and I heard Master tell Missis that he had soldmy Harry, and you, Uncle Tom, both, to a trader; and that he was goingoff this morning on his horse, and that the man was to take possessiontoday."

Tom had stood, during this speech, with his hands raised, and his eyesdilated, like a man in a dream. Slowly and gradually, as its meaningcame over him, he collapsed, rather than seated himself, on his oldchair, and sunk his head down upon his knees.

"The good Lord have pity on us!" said Aunt Chloe. "O! it don't seem asif it was true! What has he done, that Mas'r should sell _him_?"

"He hasn't done anything,--it isn't for that. Master don't want to sell,and Missis she's always good. I heard her plead and beg for us; but hetold her 't was no use; that he was in this man's debt, and that thisman had got the power over him; and that if he didn't pay him off clear,it would end in his having to sell the place and all the people, andmove off. Yes, I heard him say there was no choice between selling thesetwo and selling all, the man was driving him so hard. Master said he wassorry; but oh, Missis--you ought to have heard her talk! If she an't aChristian and an angel, there never was one. I'm a wicked girl to leaveher so; but, then, I can't help it. She said, herself, one soul wasworth more than the world; and this boy has a soul, and if I let him becarried off, who knows what'll become of it? It must be right: but, ifit an't right, the Lord forgive me, for I can't help doing it!"

"Well, old man!" said Aunt Chloe, "why don't you go, too? Will youwait to be toted down river, where they kill niggers with hard work andstarving? I'd a heap rather die than go there, any day! There's time forye,--be off with Lizy,--you've got a pass to come and go any time. Come,bustle up, and I'll get your things together."

Tom slowly raised his head, and looked sorrowfully but quietly around,and said,

"No, no--I an't going. Let Eliza go--it's her right! I wouldn't be theone to say no--'tan't in _natur_ for her to stay; but you heard what shesaid! If I must be sold, or all the people on the place, and everythinggo to rack, why, let me be sold. I s'pose I can bar it as well asany on 'em," he added, while something like a sob and a sigh shook hisbroad, rough chest convulsively. "Mas'r always found me on the spot--healways will. I never have broke trust, nor used my pass no ways contraryto my word, and I never will. It's better for me alone to go, than tobreak up the place and sell all. Mas'r an't to blame, Chloe, and he'lltake care of you and the poor--"

Here he turned to the rough trundle bed full of little woolly heads, andbroke fairly down. He leaned over the back of the chair, and coveredhis face with his large hands. Sobs, heavy, hoarse and loud, shook thechair, and great tears fell through his fingers on the floor; just suchtears, sir, as you dropped into the coffin where lay your first-bornson; such tears, woman, as you shed when you heard the cries of yourdying babe. For, sir, he was a man,--and you are but another man. And,woman, though dressed in silk and jewels, you are but a woman, and, inlife's great straits and mighty griefs, ye feel but one sorrow!

"And now," said Eliza, as she stood in the door, "I saw my husbandonly this afternoon, and I little knew then what was to come. They havepushed him to the very last standing place, and he told me, today, thathe was going to run away. Do try, if you can, to get word to him. Tellhim how I went, and why I went; and tell him I'm going to try and findCanada. You must give my love to him, and tell him, if I never see himagain," she turned away, and stood with her back to them for a moment,and then added, in a husky voice, "tell him to be as good as he can, andtry and meet me in the kingdom of heaven."

"Call Bruno in there," she added. "Shut the door on him, poor beast! Hemustn't go with me!"

A few last words and tears, a few simple adieus and blessings, andclasping her wondering and affrighted child in her arms, she glidednoiselessly away.