Part 68 (2/2)
”Me who?”
”Hit's me--Sam.”
”'Tain't no Sam nuther--”
”'Tis me.”
”Sam's bin free mos' ten year now an' he's livin' in New York--”
”I done come back. Lemme come in a minute!”
Ben was not sure. He picked up a heavy cane, held it in his right hand and cautiously opened the door with his left, as Sam entered.
The old man dropped the cane and stepped back in dumb amazement. It was some time before he spoke.
”Name er Gawd, Sam--hit is you.”
”Sho, hit's me!”
”What yer doin' here?”
”I come to see my old marster when I hears all dis talk 'bout war. Whar is he?”
Ben lifted his eyes to the ceiling and spoke in a solemn tone:
”Up dar in his room all night trampin' back an' forth lak er lion in de cage, waitin' fur Ma.r.s.e Stuart ter fetch de news fum Richmond 'bout secessun--”
”Secessun?”
Ben nodded--and raised his eyes in a dreamy look.
”Some say Ole Virginy gwine ter stay in de Union. Some say she's a gwine ter secede. De Convenshun in Richmon' wuz votin' on hit yestiddy. Ma.r.s.e Stuart gone ter town ter fetch de news ter Arlington.”
Sam stepped close and searched Ben's face.
”What's my ole marster dat set me free gwine ter do?”
”Dat's what everybody's axin. He bin prayin' up dar all night.”
Sam glanced toward the stairway and held his silence for a while. He spoke finally with firm conviction.
”Well, I'se gwine wid him. Ef he go wid de Union, I goes. Ef he go wid ole Virginy, I go wid ole Virginy. Whichever way _he_ go, dat's de _right_ way--”
”Dat's so, too!” Ben responded fervently.
Sam advanced to the old butler with the quick step of the days when he was his efficient helper.
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