Anyhow, they have got into a trap now,--the baggages! They are safe enough! They
shall sweat for it! [Turns and runs in another direction.] Hallo! there, Sambo!
Quimbo!--all hands!--two runaways in the swamp!--five dollars to any nigger that
catches them!--turn out the dogs!--turn out Tiger!--Fury and fire! Halloo! be
alive!
Enter SAMBO, QUIMBO, and a crowd of negroes with torches. They run about
distractedly, and shouting and whooping, some getting pine knots and some
getting the dogs. Sambo.
Mas'r, shall we shoot them? Can't catch 'em.
Legree. [Giving him a rifle.]
Fire on Cass, if you like--time she is gone where she belongs! Don't fire on the
girl! Now, be spry! Five dollars to him that gets them! Glass of spirits to you
all, any way!
[Exit all, shouting.] Enter UNCLE TOM; looks after them and raises his hands..
Uncle Tom.
Please, good Lord, do, do help 'em--help 'em--help 'em, good Lord!
SCENE X.--A Room in the House.
Enter CASSY and EMMELINE out of breath. From the windows is seen the light of
flambeaux, and the sound of dogs and shouting is heard. Cas. [Walking to the
window and looking out.]
See there, the hunt is begun! Hark, the dogs! Don't you hear? If we were there
now, our chance would n't be worth a picayune!
Em.
O, for pity's sake! Do let 's hide ourselves! Quick! quick!
Cas.
There is no occasion for hurry. The hunt is the amusement for the evening. They
are all out after it. Meanwhile [she walks to a desk and unlocks it] I shall
take something to pay our passage.
Em.
O, don't let 's to that!
Cas. [Taking out a roll of bills and counting them.]
Why not? Would you have us starve in the swamp, or have what will pay our way to
the free states? Money can do anything, girl!
Em.
But it 's stealing!
Cas. [Laughs scornfully.]
Stealing, is it! They who steal body and soul need not talk to us! Let him talk
about stealing! Every one of these bills is stolen--stolen from poor, starving,
sweat ing creatures, that must go to the devil at last for his profit! But come,
we may as well go up garret. I have got a stock of candles there, and some books
to pass away the time. You may be sure they won't come there to inquire after
us.
[Exit.]
SCENE XI.--The Dining-room.
Legree. [Solus.]
It 's all that Tom, I know! Did n't I see the old wretch lifting up his old
black hands, praying? I hate him! I HATE him! And is n't he mine? Is he not
MINE? Can't I do what I like with him? Who is to hinder, I wonder? I 'll try
once more to-morrow. If I don't catch them--I 'll see what I 'll do!
SCENE XII .--.
Emmeline.
What do you see?
Cassy.
At it again this morning! There 's that old Stokes on the run. He has come
over--has he? And Bill Daken, with his dogs! Hear them swear! There he goes,
giving brandy round among them--niggers and all! [Listens.] So I am to be shot
down--am I? "Save the girl!" Do you hear that, Emmeline? Is n't he kind? [CASSY
rises suddenly, clasps her hands, and looks up.] Almighty God, what is t his
for? What have we done more than all the rest of the world, that we are treated
so? [After a pause, she lays her hand on EMMELINE'S shoulder.] If it was n't for
you, child, I would go out there, and I 'd thank any one that would shoot me
down; for what use will freedom be to me? Can it give me back my children, or
make me what I used to be?
Em.
Poor Cassy! don't feel so!
[She takes her hand.] Cas. [Draws it away.]
Don't-- you get me to loving you; and I never mean to love anything again.
Em.
You should n't feel so, Cassy. If the Lord gives us liberty perhaps he will give
you back your daughter. At any rate, I 'll be like a daughter to you. I know I
'll never see my poor old mother again. I shall love you, Cassy, whether you
love me or not.
Cas. [Sits down, and puts her arm around EMMELINE.]
O, Em, I have hungered for my children, and thirsted for them! My heart is
broken in longing for them! Here, here all is desperate, all empty! If God would
give me back my children, then I could pray.
Em.
You must trust him, Cassy. He is our Father.
Cas.
His wrath is upon us. He is turned away in anger.
Em.
No, Cassy, he will be good to us.
SCENE XIII.--LEGREE and QUIMBO. Sitting-room.
Leg.
Now, Quimbo, if you 'll just walk up that Tom right away--the old cuss is at the
bottom of the whole matter, and I 'll have it out of his old black hide, or I
'll know the reason why! [Exit QUIMBO.] What if I did pay a thousand dollars for
him!--two thousand would not pay the plague he has made me! I 've got him! the
--
Enter QUIMBO, dragging along TOM. Quimbo.
Ah! you 'll cotch it now, I 'll be bound! Mas'r's back 's up high. No sneaking
up now--tell you, you 'll get it--no mistake! See how you look now, helping
mas'r's niggers to run away--see what ye got!
A voice from above.
"Fear not them that kill the body, and after that have no more that they can
do."
Leg. [Seizing TOM by the collar.]
Tom, do you know I have made up my mind to kill you?
Tom.
I think it 's quite likely, mas'r.
Leg.
I have--done--just--that--thing, Tom, unless you'll tell me what you know about
these here girls!
[TOM remains silent, and looks on the floor.] Leg. [Stamping.]
Do you hear?--speak!
Tom.
I an't got nothing to tell, mas'r.
Leg.
Do you dare to tell me, you old black Christian, that you don't know?
[TOM remains silent.] Leg. [Furiously.]
Speak! Do you know anything?
Tom.
I know, mas'r, but I can't tell anything. I can die.
Leg. [Comes up to TOM, and speaks close to his face.]
Look here, Tom! you think, because I have let you off other times, that I don't
mean what I say. But I do! I have made up my mind and counted the cost. You
always have stood it out against me; but this time I 'll conquer you, or I 'll
kill you--one or t' other! I 'll count every drop of blood that is in you, and
take them one by one till you give up!
Tom. [Looking up to his master.]
Mas'r, if you were sick, or in trouble, or dying, and I could save ye, I 'd give
ye my heart's blood; and, if taking every drop of blood in this poor old body
would s ave your precious soul, I 'd give 'em freely, as the Lord gave his for
me. O! mas'r, don't bring this great sin on your soul! It will hurt you more
than 't will me! Do the worst you can, my troubles will be over soon; but, if ye
don't repent, yours won't ever end!
[LEGREE hesitates a moment, and then knocks TOM down. SAMBO and QUIMBO rush in.]
Sambo and Quimbo.
Shall we take him, mas'r?
Leg.
Yes, take him. I 'll go with you. We 'll see what we'll see!
r />
[Exit.]
SCENE XIV.--A Hut. UNCLE TOM lying on straw, apparently dead.
Enter GEORGE SHELBY. Kneels down. George.
Is it possible! Is it possible! Uncle Tom, my poor old friend!
Uncle Tom. [Moving in his sleep.]
"Jesus can make a dying bed
Feel soft as downy pillows are."
George.
O! Uncle Tom, do wake! do speak once more! Look up! Here's Mas'r George--your
own little Mas'r George! Don't you know me?
Uncle T. [In a feeble voice.]
Mas'r George! Mas'r George! Bless the Lord! it is--it is--it 's all I wanted!
They have n't forgot me! It warms my soul; it does my old heart good! Now I
shall die content! Bless the Lord, O my soul!
George.
You shan't die! you must n't die, nor think of it! I 've come to buy you, and
take you home.
Uncle T.
O, Mas'r George, ye 're too late! The Lord's bought me, and is going to take me
home; and I long to go. Heaven is better than Kintuck.
George.
O, don't die! It 'll kill me! it 'll break my heart to think what you 've
suffered--and lying in this old shed, here! Poor, poor fellow!
Uncle T.
Don't call me a poor fellow! [Solemnly.] I have been poor fellow, but that 's
all past and gone now. I 'm right in the door, going into glory! O, Mas'r
George! Heaven has come! I 've got the victory! the Lord Jesus has given it to
me! Glory be to his name! [He pauses, and then takes GEORGE'S hand.] Ye must
n't, now, tell Chloe--poor soul!--how ye found me; 't would be so drefful to
her. Only tell her ye found me going into glory; and that I could n't stay for
no one. And tell her the Lord stood by me everywhere, and al'ays, and made
everything light and easy. And, O! the poor chil'en, and the baby--my old
heart's been most broken for 'em, time and again. Tell 'em all to follow
me--follow me! Give my love to mas'r, and dear good missis, and everybody in the
place! Ye don't know. 'Pears like I love 'em all! I loves every creatur',
everywar!--it 's nothing but love! O, Mas'r George, what a thing 't is to be a
Christian!
[LEGREE looks in.] George.
The old Satan! It 's a comfort to think the devil will pay him for this some of
these days!
Uncle T.
O, don't!--O, you must n't! [grasping his hand] He 's a poor mis'able critter.
It 's awful to think on 't. O, if he only would repent, the Lord would forgive
him now; but I 'm feared he never will!
George.
I hope he won't. I never want to see him in heaven!
Uncle T.
Hush, Mas'r George; it worries me! Don't feel so. He an't done me no real
harm--only opened the gate of the kingdom for me--that 's all! [A pause. UNCLE
TOM seems to faint. Draws several long sighs, raises his hand.]
Who--who--who--shall--separate--us from--the--the--love of Christ? LOVE! LOVE!
LOVE OF CHRIST!
Harriet Beecher Stowe, The Christian Slave
(Series: # )
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