Part 51 (1/2)

”You must go and I will stay; you will care for them all; I will look after things here. This war will not last always. You will all come back some time,” said Ruth, her abiding faith rising supreme above the agony of the parting.

”I will care for them,” had been the calm reply of Mary.

”Oh, missus! I can't bear to have ye go, you's been good to me always.

I'se packed a luncheon for ye,” said Phillis, kneeling upon the floor, clasping the knees of her departing mistress, crying and sobbing.

”Oh, ma.s.sa and missus, old Pomp can't tell ye how good ye've been to him. He'll be good to Miss Ruth. He'll pray for de good Lord to bless ye, every night, as he always has,”--the benediction of the slave kneeling by Phillis's side.

Long and tender was the last embrace of the mother and daughter,--of the father and his beloved child. With tears blinding her eyes, with tottering steps, Ruth pa.s.sed across the gang-plank. A sailor drew it in, and unloosed the cable. The vessel swung with the tide from its moorings, the jib and mainsail filled with the breeze, and glided away. The weeping crowd upon its deck saw Ruth standing upon the wharf, her countenance serene, pure, and peaceful, with tears upon her face, gazing at the receding s.h.i.+p. Those around her beheld her steady herself against the post which had held the cable, standing there till the Queen Charlotte was but a white speck dotting the landscape in the lower harbor, then walking with faltering steps to her desolate home.

XXIV.

IN THE OLD HOME.

”Here, Miss Ruth, I has a cordial for ye. Drink it, honey,” said Phillis as Ruth sank into a chair.

”Don't be down-hearted, Miss Ruth; old Pomp will take keer of ye.”

”I do not doubt it. You and Phillis have always been good to me, and now I have something to say to both of you. Would you like to be free, Pompey?”

”Would I like to be free, Miss Ruth?” the negro asked, hardly knowing what to make of the question.

”Yes, would you like to be free, to own yourself, to come and go as you please?”

”'Deed I would, Miss Ruth. Ma.s.sa and missus was always very good to old Pomp, but 'pears I would like to be myself.”

She rose and took Pompey and Phillis by their hands.

”Your old master has given you both to me, and now I give you to yourselves. You are both free now and forever,” said Ruth.

”Free! Miss Ruth! Did you say we is free?”

”Yes, you are no longer slaves; you can go and come, now and always; you are your own.”

”Oh, Miss Ruth, old Pomp never will leave ye, never. Old Pomp free!

'Pears like de New Jerusalem has come,” said the negro, sinking upon his knees, kissing her hand and bathing it with tears.

”Oh, Miss Ruth, honey, I has held ye in my arms when ye was a little baby, toted ye in de garding when de flowers was bloomin', rocked ye to sleep when ye was pinin'; I've seen ye grow to be a woman, and now ye is my missus tellin' me I'm free. I'll cook de chicken and de johnny-cake for ye till I can't cook no more,” said Phillis, clasping Ruth in her arms, with tears rolling down her cheeks and laughter bubbling from her lips.

The foresight that had seen the probable departure of the British troops was forecasting the immediate future; that the interval before the arrival of General Was.h.i.+ngton's army would be one of peril, from vagabonds, camp-followers, and the ragam.u.f.fins enlisted by Creen Brush, commissioned by General Howe to organize a battalion of Tories.

Through the day the British regiments were sullenly taking their departure. Pompey informed Ruth that the vagabonds had begun to plunder the stores and break into houses.

”Dey won't git into dis yeer house, honey. I'se got de water b'ilin'

hot in de kitchen for 'em,” said Phillis.

Ruth did not doubt a mansion like hers would attract the villains, and determined to defend herself against all intruders. General Howe was going on s.h.i.+pboard; no longer would she recognize his authority or that of any subordinate officer. Years before, her father had been member of a battalion of hors.e.m.e.n. The pistols he carried then were in a closet. Pompey brought them, fixed the flints, oiled the locks, and found a horn of powder, but no bullets.