Cassy entered the room, and found Emmeline sitting, pale with fear,in the furthest corner of it. As she came in, the girl started upnervously; but, on seeing who it was, rushed forward, and catching herarm, said, "O Cassy, is it you? I'm so glad you've come! I was afraidit was--. O, you don't know what a horrid noise there has been, downstairs, all this evening!"

"I ought to know," said Cassy, dryly. "I've heard it often enough."

"O Cassy! do tell me,--couldn't we get away from this place? I don'tcare where,--into the swamp among the snakes,--anywhere! _Couldn't_ weget _somewhere_ away from here?"

"Nowhere, but into our graves," said Cassy.

"Did you ever try?"

"I've seen enough of trying and what comes of it," said Cassy.

"I'd be willing to live in the swamps, and gnaw the bark from trees.I an't afraid of snakes! I'd rather have one near me than him," saidEmmeline, eagerly.

"There have been a good many here of your opinion," said Cassy; "but youcouldn't stay in the swamps,--you'd be tracked by the dogs, and broughtback, and then--then--"

"What would he do?" said the girl, looking, with breathless interest,into her face.

"What _wouldn't_ he do, you'd better ask," said Cassy. "He's learnedhis trade well, among the pirates in the West Indies. You wouldn't sleepmuch, if I should tell you things I've seen,--things that he tells of,sometimes, for good jokes. I've heard screams here that I haven't beenable to get out of my head for weeks and weeks. There's a place way outdown by the quarters, where you can see a black, blasted tree, and theground all covered with black ashes. Ask anyone what was done there, andsee if they will dare to tell you."

"O! what do you mean?"

"I won't tell you. I hate to think of it. And I tell you, the Lord onlyknows what we may see tomorrow, if that poor fellow holds out as he'sbegun."

"Horrid!" said Emmeline, every drop of blood receding from her cheeks."O, Cassy, do tell me what I shall do!"

"What I've done. Do the best you can,--do what you must,--and make it upin hating and cursing."

"He wanted to make me drink some of his hateful brandy," said Emmeline;"and I hate it so--"

"You'd better drink," said Cassy. "I hated it, too; and now I can't livewithout it. One must have something;--things don't look so dreadful,when you take that."

"Mother used to tell me never to touch any such thing," said Emmeline.

"_Mother_ told you!" said Cassy, with a thrilling and bitter emphasison the word mother. "What use is it for mothers to say anything? Youare all to be bought and paid for, and your souls belong to whoever getsyou. That's the way it goes. I say, _drink_ brandy; drink all you can,and it'll make things come easier."

"O, Cassy! do pity me!"

"Pity you!--don't I? Haven't I a daughter,--Lord knows where she is,and whose she is, now,--going the way her mother went, before her, Isuppose, and that her children must go, after her! There's no end to thecurse--forever!"

"I wish I'd never been born!" said Emmeline, wringing her hands.

"That's an old wish with me," said Cassy. "I've got used to wishingthat. I'd die, if I dared to," she said, looking out into the darkness,with that still, fixed despair which was the habitual expression of herface when at rest.

"It would be wicked to kill one's self," said Emmeline.

"I don't know why,--no wickeder than things we live and do, day afterday. But the sisters told me things, when I was in the convent, thatmake me afraid to die. If it would only be the end of us, why, then--"

Emmeline turned away, and hid her face in her hands.

While this conversation was passing in the chamber, Legree, overcomewith his carouse, had sunk to sleep in the room below. Legree was not anhabitual drunkard. His coarse, strong nature craved, and could endure,a continual stimulation, that would have utterly wrecked and crazed afiner one. But a deep, underlying spirit of cautiousness prevented hisoften yielding to appetite in such measure as to lose control of himself.

This night, however, in his feverish efforts to banish from his mindthose fearful elements of woe and remorse which woke within him, he hadindulged more than common; so that, when he had discharged his sableattendants, he fell heavily on a settle in the room, and was soundasleep.

O! how dares the bad soul to enter the shadowy world of sleep?--thatland whose dim outlines lie so fearfully near to the mystic scene ofretribution! Legree dreamed. In his heavy and feverish sleep, a veiledform stood beside him, and laid a cold, soft hand upon him. He thoughthe knew who it was; and shuddered, with creeping horror, though theface was veiled. Then he thought he felt _that hair_ twining round hisfingers; and then, that it slid smoothly round his neck, and tightenedand tightened, and he could not draw his breath; and then he thoughtvoices _whispered_ to him,--whispers that chilled him with horror. Thenit seemed to him he was on the edge of a frightful abyss, holding onand struggling in mortal fear, while dark hands stretched up, and werepulling him over; and Cassy came behind him laughing, and pushed him.And then rose up that solemn veiled figure, and drew aside the veil. Itwas his mother; and she turned away from him, and he fell down, down,down, amid a confused noise of shrieks, and groans, and shouts of demonlaughter,--and Legree awoke.

Calmly the rosy hue of dawn was stealing into the room. The morning starstood, with its solemn, holy eye of light, looking down on the manof sin, from out the brightening sky. O, with what freshness, whatsolemnity and beauty, is each new day born; as if to say to insensateman, "Behold! thou hast one more chance! _Strive_ for immortal glory!"There is no speech nor language where this voice is not heard; but thebold, bad man heard it not. He woke with an oath and a curse. What tohim was the gold and purple, the daily miracle of morning! What to himthe sanctity of the star which the Son of God has hallowed as his ownemblem? Brute-like, he saw without perceiving; and, stumbling forward,poured out a tumbler of brandy, and drank half of it.

"I've had a h--l of a night!" he said to Cassy, who just then enteredfrom an opposite door.

"You'll get plenty of the same sort, by and by," said she, dryly.

"What do you mean, you minx?"

"You'll find out, one of these days," returned Cassy, in the same tone."Now Simon, I've one piece of advice to give you."

"The devil, you have!"

"My advice is," said Cassy, steadily, as she began adjusting some thingsabout the room, "that you let Tom alone."

"What business is 't of yours?"

"What? To be sure, I don't know what it should be. If you want to paytwelve hundred for a fellow, and use him right up in the press of theseason, just to serve your own spite, it's no business of mine, I'vedone what I could for him."

"You have? What business have you meddling in my matters?"

"None, to be sure. I've saved you some thousands of dollars, atdifferent times, by taking care of your hands,--that's all the thanksI get. If your crop comes shorter into market than any of theirs, youwon't lose your bet, I suppose? Tompkins won't lord it over you, Isuppose,--and you'll pay down your money like a lady, won't you? I thinkI see you doing it!"

Legree, like many other planters, had but one form of ambition,--to havein the heaviest crop of the season,--and he had several bets on thisvery present season pending in the next town. Cassy, therefore, withwoman's tact, touched the only string that could be made to vibrate.

"Well, I'll let him off at what he's got," said Legree; "but he shallbeg my pardon, and promise better fashions."

"That he won't do," said Cassy.

"Won't,--eh?"

"No, he won't," said Cassy.

"I'd like to know _why_, Mistress," said Legree, in the extreme ofscorn.

"Because he's done right, and he knows it, and won't say he's donewrong."

"Who a cuss cares what he knows? The nigger shall say what I please,or--"

"Or, you'll lose your bet on the cotton crop, by keeping him out of thefield, just at this very press."

"But he _will_ give up,--course, he will; don't I know what niggers is?He'll beg like a dog, this morning."

"He won't, Simon; you don't know this kind. You may kill him byinches,--you won't get the first word of confession out of him."

"We'll see,--where is he?" said Legree, going out.

"In the waste-room of the gin-house," said Cassy.

Legree, though he talked so stoutly to Cassy, still sallied forth fromthe house with a degree of misgiving which was not common with him. Hisdreams of the past night, mingled with Cassy's prudential suggestions,considerably affected his mind. He resolved that nobody should bewitness of his encounter with Tom; and determined, if he could notsubdue him by bullying, to defer his vengeance, to be wreaked in a moreconvenient season.

The solemn light of dawn--the angelic glory of the morning-star--hadlooked in through the rude window of the shed where Tom was lying; and,as if descending on that star-beam, came the solemn words, "I am theroot and offspring of David, and the bright and morning star." Themysterious warnings and intimations of Cassy, so far from discouraginghis soul, in the end had roused it as with a heavenly call. He did notknow but that the day of his death was dawning in the sky; and his heartthrobbed with solemn throes of joy and desire, as he thought that thewondrous _all_, of which he had often pondered,--the great white throne,with its ever radiant rainbow; the white-robed multitude, with voices asmany waters; the crowns, the palms, the harps,--might all break uponhis vision before that sun should set again. And, therefore, withoutshuddering or trembling, he heard the voice of his persecutor, as hedrew near.

"Well, my boy," said Legree, with a contemptuous kick, "how do you findyourself? Didn't I tell yer I could larn yer a thing or two? How do yerlike it--eh? How did yer whaling agree with yer, Tom? An't quite socrank as ye was last night. Ye couldn't treat a poor sinner, now, to abit of sermon, could ye,--eh?"

Tom answered nothing.

"Get up, you beast!" said Legree, kicking him again.

This was a difficult matter for one so bruised and faint; and, as Tommade efforts to do so, Legree laughed brutally.

"What makes ye so spry, this morning, Tom? Cotched cold, may be, lastnight."

Tom by this time had gained his feet, and was confronting his masterwith a steady, unmoved front.

"The devil, you can!" said Legree, looking him over. "I believe youhaven't got enough yet. Now, Tom, get right down on yer knees and beg mypardon, for yer shines last night."

Tom did not move.

"Down, you dog!" said Legree, striking him with his riding-whip.

"Mas'r Legree," said Tom, "I can't do it. I did only what I thought wasright. I shall do just so again, if ever the time comes. I never will doa cruel thing, come what may."

"Yes, but ye don't know what may come, Master Tom. Ye think what you'vegot is something. I tell you 'tan't anything,--nothing 't all. Howwould ye like to be tied to a tree, and have a slow fire lit up aroundye;--wouldn't that be pleasant,--eh, Tom?"

"Mas'r," said Tom, "I know ye can do dreadful things; but,"--hestretched himself upward and clasped his hands,--"but, after ye'vekilled the body, there an't no more ye can do. And O, there's allETERNITY to come, after that!"

ETERNITY,--the word thrilled through the black man's soul with light andpower, as he spoke; it thrilled through the sinner's soul, too, like thebite of a scorpion. Legree gnashed on him with his teeth, but rage kepthim silent; and Tom, like a man disenthralled, spoke, in a clear andcheerful voice,

"Mas'r Legree, as ye bought me, I'll be a true and faithful servant toye. I'll give ye all the work of my hands, all my time, all my strength;but my soul I won't give up to mortal man. I will hold on to the Lord,and put his commands before all,--die or live; you may be sure on 't.Mas'r Legree, I ain't a grain afeard to die. I'd as soon die as not. Yemay whip me, starve me, burn me,--it'll only send me sooner where I wantto go."

"I'll make ye give out, though, 'fore I've done!" said Legree, in arage.

"I shall have _help_," said Tom; "you'll never do it."

"Who the devil's going to help you?" said Legree, scornfully.

"The Lord Almighty," said Tom.

"D--n you!" said Legree, as with one blow of his fist he felled Tom tothe earth.

A cold soft hand fell on Legree's at this moment. He turned,--it wasCassy's; but the cold soft touch recalled his dream of the night before,and, flashing through the chambers of his brain, came all the fearfulimages of the night-watches, with a portion of the horror thataccompanied them.

"Will you be a fool?" said Cassy, in French. "Let him go! Let me aloneto get him fit to be in the field again. Isn't it just as I told you?"

They say the alligator, the rhinoceros, though enclosed in bullet-proofmail, have each a spot where they are vulnerable; and fierce, reckless,unbelieving reprobates, have commonly this point in superstitious dread.

Legree turned away, determined to let the point go for the time.

"Well, have it your own way," he said, doggedly, to Cassy.

"Hark, ye!" he said to Tom; "I won't deal with ye now, because thebusiness is pressing, and I want all my hands; but I _never_ forget.I'll score it against ye, and sometime I'll have my pay out o' yer oldblack hide,--mind ye!"

Legree turned, and went out.

"There you go," said Cassy, looking darkly after him; "your reckoning'sto come, yet!--My poor fellow, how are you?"

"The Lord God hath sent his angel, and shut the lion's mouth, for thistime," said Tom.

"For this time, to be sure," said Cassy; "but now you've got his illwill upon you, to follow you day in, day out, hanging like a dog on yourthroat,--sucking your blood, bleeding away your life, drop by drop. Iknow the man."