Part 9 (1/2)

But it was too late to worry about that. There was stone arches on either side between the State House and the other buildings. The arches opened onto a mall which ran out to the back. I walked through one of the arches. Just past it there was a door. I walked up the steps and opened it. I was mighty scared to go into a place of such importance, me being low as dirt, and my hand shook on the k.n.o.b. But I knew I had to do it, so I went on in.

I was in a big hall. There was people in fancy clothes walking around and talking to each other. Some of them was delegates to the convention, I reckoned, and was bound to be famous, but I couldn't tell which.

Just inside the door there stood a soldier in blue, with a sword on one side of his belt and a pistol on the other. He put his arm out. ”Hold up there, you,” he said. ”Deliveries around to the rear.”

My knees was shaking. ”I have a message for somebody, sir.”

”All right. Give it to me.”

”It ain't written out, sir. It's in my head.”

He stared at me. ”I don't believe it. n.o.body'd give a n.i.g.g.e.r a message in his head. No n.i.g.g.e.r could ever get anything like that straight.”

It made me mad, him saying that after all the trouble I'd been through to get there. ”It's important,” I said.

”Sure,” he said. ”They always are.”

I was getting madder and madder. ”It's for Mr. William Samuel Johnson.”

”Sure,” he said. ”And I'm the Queen of May. Now run along before I lock you up.”

I could feel tears coming up behind my eyes, I was so mad. ”I have to see him. I'm not lying, it's important.” Just then I realized that a very fancy dressed man no bigger than me was staring at me.

”Guard,” the man said, ”please remove the n.i.g.g.e.r from the doorway so a gentleman can pa.s.s through.”

The guard grabbed me by the arm and jerked me away. ”I'm sorry, Mr. Hamilton,” he said. ”He's been trying to tell me that he has a message for Mr. William Samuel Johnson.”

”No doubt,” Mr. Hamilton said. I knew right away who it was: Mr. Alexander Hamilton, one of the most famous of all the men at the convention. He started to go for the door. I was scared to death, but I knew I had to do something. ”Sir,” I said. ”I ain't lying. It's important.”

Mr. Hamilton snapped his head around. ”Guard, would you please keep this n.i.g.g.e.r away from me.”

The guard grabbed for my arm and jerked me back hard, away from Mr. Hamilton. ”I ain't lying,” I cried out. ”It's for Mr. Johnson from Mr. Fatherscreft.”

Hamilton was halfway out the door, but he stopped dead and spun around. ”Fatherscreft? Where is he? He was due here yesterday.”

”He's dead, sir. He died of the cough last night at Trenton. He was mighty sick.”

”Dead? Fatherscreft is dead?” He was speaking in a loud voice, and I noticed that some of the other men in the hall had turned to look at us.

Yes sir.

”And he gave you a message for us?”

”For Mr. Johnson, sir.”

”All right. Give it to me.”

Two or three other men had walked over to us and were standing there, listening. ”I can't tell it to anybody but Mr. Johnson.”

”What?” Mr. Hamilton shouted. ”Why, I'll wring your neck, you impudent little wretch.” He s.n.a.t.c.hed at my s.h.i.+rt front. ”Now tell me.”

My mouth was bone dry and I could hardly talk, but scared as I was of Mr. Hamilton, I was more scared of going back on a promise to a dying man and being haunted all the rest of my life. ”I can't, sir,” I said. ”I promised Mr. Fatherscreft. I can't go back on my promise.”

He let go of my s.h.i.+rt. ”What's your name, boy?”

”Daniel Arabus,” I said.

”Arabus?”

Now one of the other men who had been standing by pushed forward. ”What's all the commotion, Hamilton?”

”This darky says he has a message from Fatherscreft, General.”

”What is your name, boy?”

I was scared before; now I was about ready to drop down onto the floor in a dead faint, for it was General Was.h.i.+ngton. I'd seen his picture hanging in Fraunces' Tavern. It was him, sure enough. ”Arabus, sir,” I sort of gasped out. ”My daddy fought with you.”

”He did, did he? Maybe I remember. Was it at Trenton? Where's he now?”

”He drowned, sir. He went out in the Katey Lee this spring and never came back. He helped you across a stream once. He held your horse.”

General Was.h.i.+ngton smiled, and some of the others laughed. ”I don't remember that. I remember the fighting at Trenton.”

When he said that, the picture of my daddy came into my mind. I saw him standing there brave and strong, looking down at me, and I began to feel braver and stronger myself.

Mr. Hamilton turned to General Was.h.i.+ngton. ”He has a message for Dr. Johnson. It's obviously word of the negotiations on the slavery issue. He says Fatherscreft is dead, and he won't tell anybody but Johnson. Well have to wring it out of him.”

”There's no need of that, Mr. Hamilton,” General Was.h.i.+ngton said. ”I won't ask the boy to go back on a deathbed promise. Dr. Johnson is in the writing room with one of his const.i.tuents.” He took my arm. ”We'll go see him, shall we, Arabus?”

We marched on with General Was.h.i.+ngton on one side of me and Mr. Hamilton on the other, and some of the other men coming along behind. Oh, I was scared half to death to be with such famous men. We crossed the hall and then turned into a little room filled with fancy furniture-big captain's chairs, a lot of tables, and two fireplaces. I looked around, and that's when I got the most awful shock. Dr. Johnson was sitting at one of the tables with some papers in front of him. Sitting opposite him was Captain Ivers.

The minute Captain Ivers saw me he jumped to his feet. ”Arabus,” he shouted. Then he looked at General Was.h.i.+ngton, sort of confused.

Dr. Johnson stood up, too. ”Your runaway slave seems to have run back to you, Captain,” he said.

”He has a message from Peter Fatherscreft,” General Was.h.i.+ngton said. ”He won't give it to anybody but you, Johnson.”

”Fatherscreft? At last. Where is the old soul?”

”He's dead, sir. He died last night at Trenton.”

”Dead?”

”Yes, sir,” I said. ”He was mighty sick all the way down. He shouldn't ought to have been traveling.”

”And he gave you a message?”