Doctor Franck came in as I sat sewing up therents in an old shirt, that Tom might go tidily to hisgrave. New shirts were needed for the living, andthere was no wife or mother to "dress him handsomewhen he went to meet the Lord," as onewoman said, describing the fine funeral she hadpinched herself to give her son.
"Miss Dane, I'm in a quandary," began theDoctor, with that expression of countenance whichsays as plainly as words, "I want to ask a favor,but I wish you'd save me the trouble."
"Can I help you out of it?
"Faith! I don't like to propose it. but youcertainly can, if you please."
"Then give it a name, I beg."
"You see a Reb has just been brought in crazywith typhoid; a bad case every way; a drunken,rascally little captain somebody took the troubleto capture, but whom nobody wants to take thetrouble to cure. The wards are full, the ladiesworked to death, and willing to be for our ownboys, but rather slow to risk their lives for a Reb.Now you've had the fever, you like queer patients,your mate will see to your ward for a while, and Iwill find you a good attendant. The fellow won'tlast long, I fancy; but he can't die without somesort of care, you know. I've put him in the fourthstory of the west wing, away from the rest. It isairy, quiet, and comfortable there. I'm on thatward, and will do my best for you in every way.Now, then, will you go?"
"Of course I will, out of perversity, if not commoncharity; for some of these people think thatbecause I'm an abolitionist I am also a heathen,and I should rather like to show them, that, thoughI cannot quite love my enemies, I am willing totake care of them."
"Very good; I thought you'd go; and speakingof abolition reminds me that you can have a contrabandfor servant, if you like. It is that finemulatto fellow who was found burying his Rebelmaster after the fight, and, being badly cut overthe head, our boys brought him along. Will youhave him?"
"By all means,--for I'll stand to my guns onthat point, as on the other; these black boys arefar more faithful and handy than some of the whitescamps given me to serve, instead of being servedby. But is this man well enough?"
"Yes, for that sort of work, and I think you'lllike him. He must have been a handsome fellowbefore he got his face slashed; not much darkerthan myself; his master's son, I dare say, and thewhite blood makes him rather high and haughtyabout some things. He was in a bad way whenhe came in, but vowed he'd die in the street ratherthan turn in with the black fellows below; so Iput him up in the west wing, to be out of the way,and he's seen to the captain all the morning.When can you go up?"
"As soon as Tom is laid out, Skinner moved,Haywood washed, Marble dressed, Charleyrubbed, Downs taken up, Upham laid down, andthe whole forty fed."
We both laughed, though the Doctor was onhis way to the dead-house and I held a shroud onmy lap. But in a hospital one learns that cheerfulnessis one's salvation; for, in an atmosphere ofsuffering and death, heaviness of heart would soonparalyze usefulness of hand, if the blessed gift ofsmiles had been denied us.
In an hour I took possession of my new charge,finding a dissipated-looking boy of nineteen ortwenty raving in the solitary little room, with noone near him but the contraband in the room adjoining.Feeling decidedly more interest in theblack man than in the white, yet remembering theDoctor's hint of his being "high and haughty," Iglanced furtively at him as I scattered chloride oflime about the room to purify the air, and settledmatters to suit myself. I had seen many contrabands,but never one so attractive as this. Allcolored men are called "boys," even if their headsare white; this boy was five-and-twenty at least,strong-limbed and manly, and had the look of onewho never had been cowed by abuse or worn withoppressive labor. He sat on his bed doing nothing;no book, no pipe, no pen or paper anywhereappeared, yet anything less indolent or listless thanhis attitude and expression I never saw. Erect hesat with a hand on either knee, and eyes fixed onthe bare wall opposite, so rapt in some absorbingthought as to be unconscious of my presence,though the door stood wide open and my movementswere by no means noiseless. His face washalf averted, but I instantly approved the Doctor'staste, for the profile which I saw possessed all theattributes of comeliness belonging to his mixed race.He was more quadroon than mulatto, with Saxonfeatures, Spanish complexion darkened by exposure,color in lips and cheek, waving hair, andan eye full of the passionate melancholy which insuch men always seems to utter a mute protestagainst the broken law that doomed them at theirbirth. What could he be thinking of? The sickboy cursed and raved, I rustled to and fro, stepspassed the door, bells rang, and the steady rumbleof army-wagons came up from the street, still henever stirred. I had seen colored people in whatthey call "the black sulks," when, for days, theyneither smiled nor spoke, and scarcely ate. Butthis was something more than that; for the manwas not dully brooding over some small grievance,--he seemed to see an all-absorbing fact or fancyrecorded on the wall, which was a blank to me.I wondered if it were some deep wrong or sorrow,kept alive by memory and impotent regret; if hemourned for the dead master to whom he had beenfaithful to the end; or if the liberty now his wererobbed of half its sweetness by the knowledge thatsome one near and dear to him still languished inthe hell from which he had escaped. My heartquite warmed to him at that idea; I wanted toknow and comfort him; and, following the impulseof the moment, I went in and touched him on theshoulder.
In an instant the man vanished and the slaveappeared. Freedom was too new a boon to havewrought its blessed changes yet, and as he startedup, with his hand at his temple and an obsequious"Yes, Ma'am," any romance that had gatheredround him fled away, leaving the saddest of allsad facts in living guise before me. Not only didthe manhood seem to die out of him, but the comelinessthat first attracted me; for, as he turned, Isaw the ghastly wound that had laid open cheekand forehead. Being partly healed, it was nolonger bandaged, but held together with strips ofthat transparent plaster which I never see withouta shiver and swift recollections of scenes withwhich it is associated in my mind. Part of hisblack hair had been shorn away, and one eye wasnearly closed; pain so distorted, and the cruelsabre-cut so marred that portion of his face, that,when I saw it, I felt as if a fine medal had beensuddenly reversed, showing me a far more strikingtype of human suffering and wrong than MichelAngelo's bronze prisoner. By one of those inexplicableprocesses that often teach us how little weunderstand ourselves, my purpose was suddenlychanged, and though I went in to offer comfort asa friend, I merely gave an order as a mistress.
"Will you open these windows? this man needsmore air."
He obeyed at once, and, as he slowly urged upthe unruly sash, the handsome profile was againturned toward me, and again I was possessed bymy first impression so strongly that I involuntarilysaid,--
"Thank you, Sir."
Perhaps it was fancy, but I thought that in thelook of mingled surprise and something likereproach which be gave me there was also a trace ofgrateful pleasure. But he said, in that tone ofspiritless humility these poor souls learn sosoon,--
"I ain't a white man, Ma'am, I'm a contraband."
"Yes, I know it; but a contraband is a freeman, and I heartily congratulate you."
He liked that; his face shone, he squared hisshoulders, lifted his head, and looked me full inthe eye with a brisk--
"Thank ye, Ma'am; anything more to do feryer?"
"Doctor Franck thought you would help mewith this man, as there are many patients and fewnurses or attendants. Have you had the fever?"
"No, Ma'am."
"They should have thought of that when theyput him here; wounds and fevers should not betogether. I'll try to get you moved."
He laughed a sudden laugh,--if he had been awhite man, I should have called it scornful; as hewas a few shades darker than myself, I suppose itmust be considered an insolent, or at least anunmannerly one.
"It don't matter, Ma'am. I'd rather be uphere with the fever than down with those niggers;and there ain't no other place fer me."
Poor fellow! that was true. No ward in allthe hospital would take him in to lie side by sidewith the most miserable white wreck there. Likethe bat in Aesop's fable, he belonged to neitherrace; and the pride of one, the helplessness of theother, kept him hovering alone in the twilight agreat sin has brought to overshadow the wholeland.
"You shall stay, then; for I would far ratherhave you than any lazy Jack. But are you welland strong enough?"
"I guess I'll do, Ma'am."
He spoke with a passive sort of acquiescence,--as if it did not much matter, if he were not able,and no one would particularly rejoice, if hewere.
"Yes, I think you will. By what name shallI call you?"
"Bob, Ma'am."
Every woman has her pet whim; one of minewas to teach the men self-respect by treating themrespectfully. Tom, Dick, and Harry would pass,when lads rejoiced in those familiar abbreviations;but to address men often old enough to be myfather in that style did not suit my old-fashionedideas of propriety. This "Bob" would never do;I should have found it as easy to call the chaplain"Gus" as my tragical-looking contraband by atitle so strongly associated with the tail of a kite.
"What is your other name?" I asked. "I like to call myattendants by their last names rather than by their first."
"I've got no other, Ma'am; we have our masters' names,or do without. Mine's dead, and I won't have anythingof his about me."
"Well, I'll call you Robert, then, and you mayfill this pitcher for me, if you will be so kind."
He went; but, through all the tame, obedienceyears of servitude had taught him, I could see thatthe proud spirit his father gave him was not yetsubdued, for the look and gesture with which herepudiated his master's name were a more effectivedeclaration of independence than any Fourth-of-Julyorator could have prepared.
We spent a curious week together. Robertseldom left his room, except upon my errands; andI was a prisoner all day, often all night, by thebedside of the Rebel. The fever burned itself rapidlyaway, for there seemed little vitality to feed it inthe feeble frame of this old young man, whose lifehad been none of the most righteous, judging fromthe revelations made by his unconscious lips; sincemore than once Robert authoritatively silencedhim, when my gentler bushings were of no avail,and blasphemous wanderings or ribald camp-songsmade my cheeks burn and Robert's face assumean aspect of disgust. The captain was a gentlemanin the world's eye, but the contraband wasthe gentleman in mine;--I was a fanatic, and thataccounts for such depravity of taste, I hope. Inever asked Robert of himself, feeling that somewherethere was a spot still too sore to bear thelightest touch; but, from his language, manner, andintelligence, I inferred that his color had procuredfor him the few advantages within the reach of aquick-witted, kindly treated slave. Silent, grave,and thoughtful, but most serviceable, was my contraband;glad of the books I brought him, faithfulin the performance of the duties I assigned to him,grateful for the friendliness I could not but feel andshow toward him. Often I longed to ask what purposewas so visibly altering his aspect with such dailydeepening gloom. But I never dared, and no one elsehad either time or desire to pry into the past of thisspecimen of one branch of the chivalrous "F.F.Vs."
On the seventh night, Dr. Franck suggested thatit would be well for some one, besides the generalwatchman of the ward, to be with the captain, asit might be his last. Although the greater part ofthe two preceding nights had been spent there, ofcourse I offered to remain,--for there is a strangefascination in these scenes, which renders onecareless of fatigue and unconscious of fear until thecrisis is passed.
"Give him water as long as he can drink, andif he drops into a natural sleep, it may save him.I'll look in at midnight, when some change willprobably take place. Nothing but sleep or amiracle will keep him now. Good night."
Away went the Doctor; and, devouring a wholemouthful of grapes, I lowered the lamp, wetthe captain's head, and sat down on a hard stoolto begin my watch. The captain lay with hishot, haggard face turned toward me, filling the airwith his poisonous breath, and feebly muttering,with lips and tongue so parched that the sanestspeech would have been difficult to understand.Robert was stretched on his bed in the inner room,the door of which stood ajar, that a fresh draughtfrom his open window might carry the fever-fumesaway through mine. I could just see a long, darkfigure, with the lighter outline of a face, and, havinglittle else to do just then, I fell to thinking ofthis curious contraband, who evidently prizedhis freedom highly, yet seemed in no haste toenjoy it. Doctor Franck had offered to send him onto safer quarters, but he had said, "No, thankyer, Sir, not yet," and then had gone away tofall into one of those black moods of his, whichbegan to disturb me, because I had no power tolighten them. As I sat listening to the clocks fromthe steeples all about us, I amused myself withplanning Robert's future, as I often did my own,and had dealt out to him a generous hand oftrumps wherewith to play this game of life whichhitherto had gone so cruelly against him, when aharsh, choked voice called,--
"Lucy!"
It was the captain, and some new terror seemedto have gifted him with momentary strength.
"Yes, here's Lucy," I answered, hoping thatby following the fancy I might quiet him,--forhis face was damp with the clammy moisture, andhis frame shaken with the nervous tremor that sooften precedes death. His dull eye fixed uponme, dilating with a bewildered look of incredulityand wrath, till he broke out fiercely.--
"That's a lie! she's dead,--and so's Bob,damn him!"
Finding speech a failure, I began to sing thequiet tune that had often soothed delirium likethis; but hardly had the line,
"See gentle patience smile on pain,"
passed my lips, when he clutched me by the wrist,whispering like one in mortal fear,--
"Hush! she used to sing that way to Bob, butshe never would to me. I swore I'd whip theDevil out of her, and I did; but you know beforeshe cut her throat she said she'd haunt me, andthere she is!"
He pointed behind me with an aspect of suchpale dismay, that I involuntarily glanced overmy shoulder and started as if I had seen a veritableghost; for, peering from the gloom of that innerroom, I saw a shadowy face, with dark hair allabout it, and a glimpse of scarlet at the throat.An instant showed me that it was only Robertleaning from his bed's-foot, wrapped in a grayarmy-blanket, with his red shirt just visible aboveit, and his long hair disordered by sleep. Butwhat a strange expression was on his face! Theunmarred side was toward me, fixed and motionlessas when I first observed it,--less absorbednow, but more intent. His eye glittered, his lipswere apart like one who listened with every sense,and his whole aspect reminded me of a hound to whichsome wind had brought the scent of unsuspected prey.
"Do you know him, Robert? Does he meanyou?"
"Lord, no, Ma'am; they all own half a dozenBobs: but hearin' my name woke me; that's all."
He spoke quite naturally, and lay down again,while I returned to my charge, thinking that thisparoxysm was probably his last. But by anotherhour I perceived a hopeful change, for the tremorhad subsided, the cold dew was gone, his breathingwas more regular, and Sleep, the healer, haddescended to save or take him gently away.Doctor Franck looked in at midnight, bade mekeep all cool and quiet, and not fail to administera certain draught as soon as the captain woke.Very much relieved, I laid my head on my arms,uncomfortably folded on the little table, andfancied I was about to perform one of the featswhich practice renders possible,--"sleeping withone eye open," as we say: a half-and-half doze, forall senses sleep but that of hearing; the faintestmurmur, sigh, or motion will break it, and giveone back one's wits much brightened by thepermission to "stand at ease." On this night,the experiment was a failure, for previous vigils,confinement, and much care had rendered napsa dangerous indulgence, Having roused half adozen times in an hour to find all quiet, I droppedmy heavy head on my arms, and, drowsily resolvingto look up again in fifteen minutes, fell fastasleep.
The striking of a deep-voiced clock woke mewith a start. "That is one," thought I, but, tomy dismay, two more strokes followed; and inremorseful haste I sprang up to see what harm mylong oblivion had done. A strong hand put meback into my seat, and held me there. It wasRobert. The instant my eye met his my heartbegan to beat, and all along my nerves tingledthat electric flash which foretells a danger that wecannot see. He was very pale, his mouth grim,and both eyes full of sombre fire,--for even thewounded one was open now, all the more sinisterfor the deep scar above and below. But his touchwas steady, his voice quiet, as he said,--
"Sit still, Ma'am; I won't hurt yer, nor evenscare yer, if I can help it, but yer waked toosoon."
"Let me go, Robert,--the captain is stirring,--I must give him something."
"No, Ma'am, yer can't stir an inch. Lookhere!"
Holding me with one hand, with the other hetook up the glass in which I had left the draught,and showed me it was empty.
"Has he taken it?" I asked, more and morebewildered.
"I flung it out o' winder, Ma'am; he'll have todo without."
"But why, Robert? why did you do it?"
"Because I hate him!"
Impossible to doubt the truth of that; his wholeface showed it, as he spoke through his set teeth,and launched a fiery glance at the unconsciouscaptain. I could only hold my breath and stareblankly at him, wondering what mad act was comingnext. I suppose I shook and turned white, as womenhave a foolish habit of doing when sudden dangerdaunts them; for Robert released my arm, sat downupon the bedside just in front of me, and said, withthe ominous quietude that made me cold to see and hear,--
"Don't yer be frightened, Ma'am: don't tryto run away, fer the door's locked an' the keyin my pocket; don't yer cry out, fer yer'd have toscream a long while, with my hand on yer mouth,before yer was heard. Be still, an' I'll tell yerwhat I'm goin' to do."
"Lord help us! he has taken the fever in somesudden, violent way, and is out of his head. Imust humor him till some one comes"; in pursuanceof which swift determination, I tried to say,quite composedly,--
"I will be still and hear you; but open thewindow. Why did you shut it?"
"I'm sorry I can't do it, Ma'am; but yer'djump out, or call, if I did, an' I'm not ready yet.I shut it to make yer sleep, an' heat would do itquicker'n anything else I could do."
The captain moved, and feebly muttered,"Water!" Instinctively I rose to give it to him,but the heavy hand came down upon my shoulder,and in the same decided tone Robert said,-=
"The water went with the physic; let himcall."
"Do let me go to him! he'll die withoutcare!"
"I mean he shall;--don't yer interfere, if yerplease, Ma'am."
In spite of his quiet tone and respectful manner,I saw murder in his eyes, and turned faint withfear; yet the fear excited me, and, hardly knowingwhat I did, I seized the hands that had seized me,crying,--
"No, no, you shall not kill him! it is base tohurt a helpless man. Why do you hate him?He is not your master?"
"He's my brother."
I felt that answer from head to foot. andseemed to fathom what was coming, with aprescience vague, but unmistakable. One appealwas left to me, and I made it.
"Robert, tell me what it means? Do notcommit a crime and make me accessory to it--There is a better way of righting wrong than byviolence;--let me help you find it."
My voice trembled as I spoke, and I heard thefrightened flutter of my heart; so did he, and ifany little act of mine had ever won affection orrespect from him, the memory of it served methen. He looked down, and seemed to put somequestion to himself; whatever it was, the answerwas in my favor, for when his eyes rose again,they were gloomy, but not desperate.
"I will tell you, Ma'am; but mind, this makesno difference; the boy is mine. I'll give the Lorda chance to take him fust; if He don't, I shall."
"Oh, no! remember, he is your brother."
An unwise speech; I felt it as it passed my lips,for a black frown gathered on Robert's face, andhis strong hands closed with an ugly sort of grip.But he did not touch the poor soul gasping therebefore him, and seemed content to let the slowsuffocation of that stifling room end his frail life.
"I'm not like to forget that, Ma'am, when I'vebeen thinkin' of it all this week. I knew him whenthey fetched him in, an' would 'a' done it long'fore this, but I wanted to ask where Lucy was;he knows,--he told to-night,--an' now he's donefor."
"Who is Lucy?" I asked hurriedly, intent onkeeping his mind busy with any thought butmurder.
With one of the swift transitions of a mixedtemperament like this, at my question Robert'sdeep eyes filled, the clenched hands were spreadbefore his face, and all I heard were the brokenwords,--
"My wife,--he took her--"
In that instant every thought of fear was swallowedup in burning indignation for the wrong,and a perfect passion of pity for the desperate manso tempted to avenge an injury for which thereseemed no redress but this. He was no longerslave or contraband, no drop of black bloodmarred him in my sight, but an infinite compassionyearned to save, to help, to comfort him.Words seemed so powerless I offered none, onlyput my hand on his poor head, wounded, homeless,bowed down with grief for which I had nocure, and softly smoothed the long neglected hair,pitifully wondering the while where was thewife who must have loved this tender-hearted manso well.
The captain moaned again, and faintly whispered,"Air!" but I never stirred. God forgive me!just then I hated him as only a woman thinkingof a sister woman's wrong could hate. Robertlooked up; his eyes were dry again, his mouthgrim. I saw that, said, "Tell me more," and hedid,--for sympathy is a gift the poorest may give,the proudest stoop to receive.
"Yer see, Ma'am, his father,--I might sayours, if I warn't ashamed of both of 'em,--hisfather died two years ago, an' left us all toMarster Ned,--that's him here, eighteen then. Healways hated me, I looked so like old Marster: hedon't--only the light skin an' hair. Old Marsterwas kind to all of us, me 'specially, an' boughtLucy off the next plantation down there in SouthCar'lina, when he found I liked her. I marriedher, all I could, Ma'am; it warn't much, but wewas true to one another till Marster Ned comehome a year after an' made hell fer both of us.He sent my old mother to be used up in hisrice swamp in Georgy; he found me with my prettyLucy, an' though young Miss cried, an' I prayedto him on my knees, an' Lucy run away, hewouldn't have no mercy; he brought her back,an'--took her, Ma'am."
"Oh! what did you do?" I cried, hot withhelpless pain and passion.
How the man's outraged heart sent the bloodflaming up into his face and deepened the tonesof his impetuous voice, as he stretched his armacross the bed, saying, with a terribly expressivegesture,--
"I half murdered him, an' to-night I'll finish."
"Yes, yes,--but go on now; what came next?"
He gave me a look that showed no white man couldhave felt a deeper degradation in remembering andconfessing these last acts of brotherlyoppression.
"They whipped me till I couldn't stand, an'then they sold me further South. Yer thoughtI was a white man once;--look here!"
With a sudden wrench he tore the shirt fromneck to waist, and on his strong brown shouldersshowed me furrows deeply ploughed, woundswhich, though healed, were ghastlier to me thanany in that house. I could not speak to him, and,with the pathetic dignity a great grief lends thehumblest sufferer, he ended his brief tragedy bysimply saying,--
"That's all. Ma'am. I've never seen her since,an' now I never shall in this world,--maybe notin t' other."
"But, Robert, why think her dead? Thecaptain was wandering when he said those sadthings; perhaps he will retract them when he issane. Don't despair; don't give up yet."
"No, Ma'am, I guess he's right; she was tooproud to bear that long. It's like her to killherself. I told her to, if there was no other way;an' she always minded me, Lucy did. My poorgirl! Oh, it warn't right! No, by God, it warn't!"
As the memory of this bitter wrong, thisdouble bereavement, burned in his sore heart, thedevil that lurks in every strong man's blood leapedup; he put his hand upon his brother's throat, and,watching the white face before him, muttered lowbetween his teeth,--
"I'm lettin' him go too easy; there's no pain inthis; we a'n't even yet. I wish he knew me.Marster Ned! it's Bob; where's Lucy?"
From the captain's lips there came a long faintsigh, and nothing but a flutter of the eyelidsshowed that he still lived. A strange stillnessfilled the room as the elder brother held theyounger's life suspended in his hand, while waveringbetween a dim hope and a deadly hate. Inthe whirl of thoughts that went on in my brain,only one was clear enough to act upon. I mustprevent murder, if I could,--but how? Whatcould I do up there alone, locked in with a dyingman and a lunatic?--for any mind yielded utterlyto any unrighteous impulse is mad while the impulserules it. Strength I had not, nor muchcourage, neither time nor wit for stratagem, andchance only could bring me help before it wastoo late. But one weapon I possessed,--a tongue,--often a woman's best defence: and sympathy,stronger than fear, gave me power to use it. WhatI said Heaven only knows, but surely Heavenhelped me; words burned on my lips, tearsstreamed from my eyes, and some good angelprompted me to use the one name that had powerto arrest my hearer's hand and touch his heart.For at that moment I heartily believed that Lucylived, and this earnest faith roused in him a likebelief.
He listened with the lowering look of one inwhom brute instinct was sovereign for the time,--a look that makes the noblest countenance base.He was but a man,--a poor, untaught, outcast,outraged man. Life had few joys for him; theworld offered him no honors, no success, no home,no love. What future would this crime mar? andwhy should he deny himself that sweet, yet bittermorsel called revenge? How many white men,with all New England's freedom, culture, Christianity,would not have felt as he felt then?Should I have reproached him for a human anguish,a human longing for redress, all now lefthim from the ruin of his few poor hopes? Whohad taught him that self-control, self-sacrifice, areattributes that make men masters of the earth andlift them nearer heaven? Should I have urgedthe beauty of forgiveness, the duty of devoutsubmission? He had no religion, for he was nosaintly "Uncle Tom," and Slavery's black shadowseemed to darken all the world to him and shutout God. Should I have warned him of penalties,of judgments, and the potency of law? Whatdid he know of justice, or the mercy that shouldtemper that stern virtue, when every law, humanand divine, had been broken on his hearthstone?Should I have tried to touch him by appeals tofilial duty, to brotherly love? How had hisappeals been answered? What memories hadfather and brother stored up in his heart to pleadfor either now? No,--all these influences, theseassociations, would have proved worse than useless,had I been calm enough to try them. I wasnot; but instinct, subtler than reason, showed methe one safe clue by which to lead this troubledsoul from the labyrinth in which it groped andnearly fell. When I paused, breathless, Robertturned to me, asking, as if human assurances couldstrengthen his faith in Divine Omnipotence,--
"Do you believe, if I let Marster Ned live, theLord will give me back my Lucy?"
"As surely as there is a Lord, you will find herhere or in the beautiful hereafter, where there isno black or white, no master and no slave."
He took his hand from his brother's throat,lifted his eyes from my face to the wintry skybeyond, as if searching for that blessed country,happier even than the happy North. Alas, it wasthe darkest hour before the dawn!--there was nostar above, no light below but the pale glimmerof the lamp that showed the brother who hadmade him desolate. Like a blind man who believesthere is a sun, yet cannot see it, he shookhis head, let his arms drop nervously upon hisknees, and sat there dumbly asking that questionwhich many a soul whose faith is firmer fixed thanhis has asked in hours less dark than this,--
"Where is God?" I saw the tide had turned,and strenuously tried to keep this rudderlesslifeboat from slipping back into the whirlpoolwherein it had been so nearly lost.
"I have listened to you, Robert; now hear me,and heed what I say, because my heart is full ofpity for you, full of hope for your future, and adesire to help you now. I want you to go awayfrom here, from the temptation of this place, andthe sad thoughts that haunt it. You have conqueredyourself once, and I honor you for it, because,the harder the battle, the more glorious thevictory; but it is safer to put a greater distancebetween you and this man. I will write youletters, give you money, and send you to good oldMassachusetts to begin your new life a freeman,--yes, and a happy man; for when the captain ishimself again, I will learn where Lucy is, and moveheaven and earth to find and give her back toyou. Will you do this, Robert?"
Slowly, very slowly, the answer came; for thepurpose of a week, perhaps a year, was hard torelinquish in an hour.
"Yes, Ma'am, I will."
"Good! Now you are the man I thought you,and I'll work for you with all my heart. Youneed sleep, my poor fellow; go, and try to forget.The captain is still alive, and as yet you are sparedthe sin. No, don't look there; I'll care for him.Come, Robert, for Lucy's sake."
Thank Heaven for the immortality of love!for when all other means of salvation failed, a sparkof this vital fire softened the man's iron will untila woman's hand could bend it. He let me takefrom him the key, let me draw him gently awayand lead him to the solitude which now was themost healing balm I could bestow. Once in hislittle room, he fell down on his bed and lay thereas if spent with the sharpest conflict of his life. Islipped the bolt across his door, and unlocked myown, flung up the window, steadied myself with abreath of air, then rushed to Doctor Franck. Hecame; and till dawn we worked together, savingone brother's life, and taking earnest thought howbest to secure the other's liberty. When the suncame up as blithely as if it shone only upon happyhomes, the Doctor went to Robert. For an hourI heard the murmur of their voices; once I caughtthe sound of heavy sobs, and for a time a reverenthush, as if in the silence that good man wereministering to soul as well as sense. When hedeparted he took Robert with him, pausing to tellme he should get him off as soon as possible, butnot before we met again.
Nothing more was seen of them all day; anothersurgeon came to see the captain, and anotherattendant came to fill the empty place. I tried torest, but could not, with the thought of poor Lucytugging at my heart, and was soon back at mypost again, anxiously hoping that my contrabandhad not been too hastily spirited away. Just asnight fell there came a tap, and opening, I sawRobert literally "clothed and in his right mind."The Doctor had replaced the ragged suit withtidy garments, and no trace of that tempestuousnight remained but deeper lines upon the forehead,and the docile look of a repentant child. He didnot cross the threshold, did not offer me his hand,--only took off his cap, saying, with a traitorousfalter in his voice,--
"God bless you, Ma'am! I'm goin'."
I put out both my hands, and held his fast.
"Good-bye, Robert! Keep up good heart,and when I come home to Massachusetts we'llmeet in a happier place than this. Are you quiteready, quite comfortable for your journey?
"Yes, Ma'am, Yes; the Doctor's fixed everything;I'm goin' with a friend of his; my papersare all right, an' I'm as happy as I can be till Ifind,--"
He stopped there; then went on, with a glanceinto the room,--
"I'm glad I didn't do it, an' I thank yer,Ma'am, fer hinderin' me,--thank yer hearty; butI'm afraid I hate him jest the same."
Of course he did; and so did I; for these faultyhearts of ours cannot turn perfect in a night, butneed frost and fire, wind and rain, to ripen andmake them ready for the great harvest-home.Wishing to divert his mind, I put my poor miteinto his hand, and, remembering the magic of acertain little book, I gave him mine, on whosedark cover whitely shone the Virgin Mother andthe Child, the grand history of whose life the bookcontained. The money went into Robert's pocketwith a grateful murmur, the book into his bosomwith a long took and a tremulous--
"I never saw my baby, Ma'am."
I broke down then; and though my eyes weretoo dim to see, I felt the touch of lips upon myhands, heard the sound of departing feet, andknew my contraband was gone.
When one feels an intense dislike, the less onesays about the subject of it the better; thereforeI shall merely record that the captain lived,--intime was exchanged; and that, whoever the otherparty was, I am convinced the Government gotthe best of the bargain. But long before thisoccurred, I had fulfilled my promise to Robert; foras soon as my patient recovered strength of memoryenough to make his answer trustworthy, I asked, withoutany circumlocution,--
"Captain Fairfax, where is Lucy?"
And too feeble to be angry, surprised, or insincere,he straightway answered,--
"Dead, Miss Dane."
"And she killed herself, when you sold Bob?"
"How the Devil did you know that?" hemuttered, with an expression half-remorseful,half-amazed; but I was satisfied, and said no more.
Of course, this went to Robert, waiting faraway there in a lonely home,--waiting, working,hoping for his Lucy. It almost broke my heartto do it; but delay was weak, deceit was wicked;so I sent the heavy tidings. and very soon theanswer came,--only three lines; but I felt that thesustaining power of the man's life was gone.
"I thought I'd never see her any more; I'm gladto know she's out of trouble. I thank yer, Ma'am;an' if they let us, I'll fight fer yer till I'm killed.which I hope will be 'fore long."
Six months later he had his wish, and kept hisword.
Every one knows the story of the attack onFort Wagner; but we should not tire yet ofrecalling how our Fifty-Fourth, spent with threesleepless nights, a day's fast, and a march underthe July sun, stormed the fort as night fell, facingdeath in many shapes, following their brave leadersthrough a fiery rain of shot and shell, fightingvaliantly for God and Governor Andrew,"--how the regiment that went into action seven hundredstrong came out having had nearly half itsnumber captured, killed, or wounded, leavingtheir young commander to be buried, like a chiefof earlier times, with his body-guard around him,faithful to the death. Surely, the insult turns tohonor, and the wide grave needs no monumentbut the heroism that consecrates it in our sight;surely, the hearts that held him nearest see throughtheir tears a noble victory in the seeming sad defeat;and surely, God's benediction was bestowed,when this loyal soul answered, as Death calledthe roll, "Lord, here I am, with the brothersThou hast given me!"
The future must show how well that fight wasfought; for though Fort Wagner still defies us,public prejudice is down; and through the cannonsmoke of that black night the manhood of thecolored race shines before many eyes that wouldnot see, rings in many ears that would not hear,wins many hearts that would not hitherto believe.
When the news came that we were needed,there was none so glad as I to leave teachingcontrabands, the new work I had taken up, andgo to nurse "our boys," as my dusky flock soproudly called the wounded of the Fifty-Fourth.Feeling more satisfaction, as I assumed my bigapron and turned up my cuffs, than if dressing forthe President's levee, I fell to work on board thehospital-ship in Hilton-Head harbor. The scenewas most familiar, and yet strange; for only darkfaces looked up at me from the pallets so thicklylaid along the floor, and I missed the sharp accentof my Yankee boys in the slower, softer voicescalling cheerily to one another, or answering myquestions with a stout, "We'll never give it up,Ma'am, till the last Reb's dead," or, "If ourpeople's free, we can afford to die."
Passing from bed to bed, intent on making onepair of hands do the work of three, at least, Igradually washed, fed, and bandaged my waydown the long line of sable heroes, and coming tothe very last, found that he was my contraband.So old, so worn, so deathly weak and wan, Inever should have known him but for the deepscar on his cheek. That side lay uppermost, andcaught my eye at once; but even then I doubted,such an awful change had come upon him, when,turning to the ticket just above his head, I saw thename, "Robert Dane." That both assured andtouched me, for, remembering that he had noname, I knew that he had taken mine. I longedfor him to speak to me, to tell how he had faredsince I lost sight of him, and let me perform somelittle service for him in return for many he haddone for me; but he seemed asleep; and as Istood re-living that strange night again, a brightlad, who lay next him softly waving an old fanacross both beds, looked up and said,--
"I guess you know him, Ma'am?"
"You are right. Do you?"
"As much as any one was able to, Ma'am."
"Why do you say 'was,' as if the man weredead and gone?"
"I s'pose because I know he'll have to go.He's got a bad jab in the breast, an' is bleedin'inside, the Doctor says. He don't suffer any,only gets weaker 'n' weaker every minute. I'vebeen fannin' him this long while, an' he's talkeda little; but he don't know me now, so he's mostgone, I guess."
There was so much sorrow and affection in theboy's face, that I remembered something, andasked, with redoubled interest,--
Are you the one that brought him off? Iwas told about a boy who nearly lost his life insaving that of his mate."
I dare say the young fellow blushed, as anymodest lad might have done; I could not see it,but I heard the chuckle of satisfaction that escapedhim, as he glanced from his shattered arm andbandaged side to the pale figure opposite.
"Lord, Ma'am, that's nothin'; we boys alwaysstan' by one another, an' I warn't goin' toleave him to be tormented any more by themcussed Rebs. He's been a slave once, thoughhe don't look half so much like it as me, an'was born in Boston."
He did not; for the speaker was as black as the aceof spades,--being a sturdy specimen, the knave of clubswould perhaps be a fitter representative,-- but the darkfreeman looked at the white slave with the pitiful, yetpuzzled expression I have so often seen on the faces ofour wisest men, when this tangled question of Slaverypresents itself, asking to be cut or patiently undone.
"Tell me what you know of this man; for,even if he were awake, he is too weak to talk."
"I never saw him till I joined the regiment, an'no one 'peared to have got much out of him. Hewas a shut-up sort of feller, an' didn't seem tocare for anything but gettin' at the Rebs. Somesay he was the fust man of us that enlisted; I knowhe fretted till we were off, an' when we pitchedinto old Wagner, he fought like the Devil."
"Were you with him when he was wounded?How was it?"
"Yes, Ma'am. There was somethin' queerabout it; for he 'peared to know the chap thatkilled him, an' the chap knew him. I don't dareto ask, but I rather guess one owned the othersome time,--for, when they clinched, the chapsung out, 'Bob!' an' Dane, 'Marster Ned!then they went at it."
I sat down suddenly, for the old anger andcompassion struggled in my heart, and I both longedand feared to hear what was to follow.
"You see, when the Colonel--Lord keep an'send him back to us!--it a'n't certain yet, youknow, Ma'am, though it's two days ago we losthim--well, when the Colonel shouted, 'Rush on.boys, rush on!' Dane tore away as if he wasgoin' to take the fort alone; I was next him, an'kept close as we went through the ditch an' upthe wall. Hi! warn't that a rusher!" and theboy flung up his well arm with a whoop, as if themere memory of that stirring moment came overhim in a gust of irrepressible excitement.
"Were you afraid?" I said,--asking the questionwomen often put, and receiving the answerthey seldom fail to get.
"No, Ma'am!"-- emphasis on the "Ma'am,"--"I never thought of anything but the damnRebs, that scalp, slash, an' cut our ears off, whenthey git us. I was bound to let daylight into oneof 'em at least, an' I did. Hope he liked it!"
"It is evident that you did, and I don't blameyou in the least. Now go on about Robert, forI should be at work."
"He was one of the fust up; I was just behind,an' though the whole thing happened in a minute.I remember how it was, for all I was yellin' an'knockin' round like mad. Just where we were,some sort of an officer was wavin' his sword an'cheerin' on his men; Dane saw him by a bigflash that come by; he flung away his gun, give aleap, an' went at that feller as if he was Jeff,Beauregard, an' Lee, all in one. I scrabbledafter as quick as I could, but was only up in timeto see him git the sword straight through him an'drop into the ditch. You needn't ask what I didnext, Ma'am, for I don't quite know myself; allI 'm clear about is, that I managed somehow topitch that Reb into the fort as dead as Moses,git hold of Dane, an' bring him off. Poor oldfeller! we said we went in to live or die; he saidhe went in to die, an' he 's done it."
I had been intently watching the excitedspeaker; but as he regretfully added those lastwords I turned again, and Robert's eyes met mine,--those melancholy eyes, so full of an intelligencethat proved he had heard, remembered, and reflectedwith that preternatural power which oftenoutlives all other faculties. He knew me, yetgave no greeting; was glad to see a woman's face,yet had no smile wherewith to welcome it; feltthat he was dying, yet uttered no farewell. Hewas too far across the river to return or lingernow; departing thought, strength, breath, werespent in one grateful look, one murmur of submissionto the last pang he could ever feel. His lipsmoved, and, bending to them, a whisper chilledmy cheek, as it shaped the broken words,--
"I would have done it,--but it 's better so,--I'm satisfied."
Ah! well he might be,--for, as he turned his facefrom the shadow of the life that was, the sunshineof the life to be touched it with a beautifulcontent, and in the drawing of a breath mycontraband found wife and home, eternal libertyand God.