XIV.
_A MAN'S STORY._
Three days longer Penn lay there on his rude bed in the cave, helplessstill, and still in ignorance.
Pomp repeatedly assured him that all was well, and that he had no causefor anxiety, but refused to enlighten him. The negro's demeanor was wellcalculated to inspire calmness and trust. There was something trulygrand and majestic, not only in his person, but in his character also.He was a superb man. Penn was never weary of watching him. He thoughthim the most perfect specimen of a gentleman he had ever seen; alwayscheerful, always courteous, always comporting himself with the ease ofan equal in the presence of his guest. His strength was enormous. Helifted Penn in his arms as if he had been an infant. But his grace wasno less than his vigor. He was, in short, a lion of a man.
Cudjo was more like an ape. His gibberings, his grimaces, his antics,his delight in mischief, excited in the mind of the convalescent almostas much surprise as the other's princely deportment. For hours togetherhe would lie watching those two wonderfully contrasted beings. Petulantand malicious as Cudjo appeared, he was completely under the control ofhis noble companion, who would often stand looking down at his tricksand deformity, with composedly folded arms and an air of patientindulgence and compassion beautiful to witness.
Meanwhile Penn gradually regained his strength, so that on the fourthday Pomp permitted him to talk a little.
"Tell me first about my friends," said Penn. "Are they well? Do theyknow where I am?"
"I hope not, sir," said the negro, with a significant smile, seatinghimself on the giant's stool. "I trust that no one knows where you are."
"What, then, must they think?" said Penn. "How did I leave them?"
"That is what they are very much perplexed to find out, sir."
"You have heard from them, then?"
"O, yes; we have a way of getting news of people down there. Toby hasnearly gone distracted on your account. He is positive that you aredead, for he believes you could never have got well out of his hands."
"And Miss--Mr. Villars----?"
"They have been so much disturbed about you, that I would have been gladto inform them of your safety, if I could. But not even they must knowof this place."
"Where am I, then?"
"You are, as you perceive, in a cave. But I suppose you know so littlehow you came here that you would find some difficulty in tracing yourway to us again?" This was spoken interrogatively, with an intelligentsmile.
"I am so ignorant of the place," said Penn, "that it may be in theplanet Mars, for aught I know."
"That is well! Now, sir," continued the negro, "since you have severaltimes expressed your obligations to us for preserving your life, I wishto ask one favor in return. It is this. You are welcome to remain hereas long as you find your stay beneficial; but when you conclude to go,we desire the privilege of conducting you away. That is not anunreasonable request?"
"Far from it. And I pledge you my word to make no movement without yoursanction, and to keep your secret sacredly. But tell me--will younot?--how you came to inhabit this dreadful place?"
"Dreadful? There are worse places, my friend, than this. Is it gloomy?The house of bondage is gloomier. Is it damp? It is not with the cruelsweat and blood of the slave's brow and back. Is it cold? The hearts ofour tyrants are colder."
"I understand you," said Penn, whose suspicion was thus confirmed thatthese men were fugitives. "And I am deeply interested in you. How longhave you lived here?"
"Would you like to hear something of my story?" said the negro, theexpression of his eyes growing deep and stern,--his black, closelycurling beard stirring with a proud smile that curved his lips. "Perhapsit will amuse you."
"Amuse me? No!" said Penn. "I know by your looks that it will not amuse:it will absorb me!"
"Well, then," said Pomp, bearing his head upon his massy and flexibleneck of polished ebony like a king, yet speaking in tones very gentleand low,--and he had a most mellow, musical, deep voice,--"you aretalking with one who was born a slave."
"You know what I think of that!" said Penn. "Even such a birth could notdebase the manhood of one like you."
"It might have done so under different circumstances. But I was sofortunate as to be brought up by a young master who was only too kindand indulgent to me, considering my station. We were playmates whenchildren; and we were scarcely less intimate when we had both grown upto be men. He went to Paris to study medicine, and took me with him. Ipassed for his body servant, but I was rather his friend. He never tookany important step in life without consulting me; and I am happy toknow," added Pomp, with grand simplicity, "that my counsel was alwaysgood. He acknowledged as much on his death-bed. 'If I had taken youradvice oftener,' said he, 'it would have been better for me. I alwaysmeant to reward you. You are to have your freedom--your freedom, my dearboy!'"
The negro knitted his brows, his breath came thick, and there was astrange moisture in his eye.
"I loved my master," he continued, with simple pathos. "And when I sawhim troubled on my account, when he ought to have been thinking of hisown soul, I begged him not to let a thought of me give him anyuneasiness. My free papers had not been made out, and he was for sendingat once for a notary. But his younger brother was with him--he who wasto be his heir. 'Don't vex yourself about Pomp, Edwin,' said he. 'I willsee that justice is done him.'
"'Ah, thank you, brother!' said Edwin. 'You will set him free, and givehim a few hundred dollars to begin life with. Promise that, and I willrest in peace.' For you must know Edwin had neither wife nor child, andI was the only person dependent on his bounty. He was not rich; he hadspent a good part of his fortune abroad, and had but recentlyestablished himself in a successful practice in Montgomery. Yet he leftenough so that his brother could have well afforded to give me myfreedom, and a thousand dollars."
"And did he not promise to do so?"
"He promised readily enough. And so my master died, and was buried, andI--had another master. For a few days nothing was said about freepapers; and I had been too much absorbed in grief for the only man Iloved to think much about them. But when the estate was settled up, andmy new master was preparing to return to his home here in Tennessee, Igrew uneasy.
"'Master,' said I, taking off my hat to him one morning, 'there isnothing more I can do for him who is gone; so I am thinking I would liketo be for myself now, if you please.'
"'For yourself, you black rascal?' said my new master, laughing in myface.
"I wasn't used to being spoken to in that way, and it cut. But I keptdown that which swelled up in here"--Pomp laid his hand on hisheart--"and reminded him, respectfully as I could, of the doctor's lastwords about me, and of his promise.
"'You fool!' said he, 'do you think I was in earnest?'
"'If you were not,' said I, 'the doctor was.'
"'And do you think,' said he, 'that I am to be bound by the last wordsof a man too far gone to know his own mind in the matter?'
"'He always meant I should have my freedom,' I answered him, 'and alwayssaid so.'
"'Then why didn't he give it to you before, instead of requiring me tomake such a sacrifice? Come, come, Pomp!' he patted my shoulder; 'youare altogether too valuable a nigger to throw away. Why, people say youknow almost as much about medicine as my brother did. You'll be aninvaluable fellow to have on a plantation; you can doctor the fieldhands, and, may be, if you behave yourself, get a chance to prescribefor the family. Come, my boy, you musn't get foolish ideas of freedominto your head; they're what spoil a nigger, and they'll have to bewhipped out of you, which would be too bad for a fine, handsome darkeylike you.'
"He patted my shoulder again, and looked as pleasant and flattering asif I had been a child to be coaxed,--I, as much a man, every bit, ashe!" said Pomp, with a gleam of pride. "I could have torn him like atiger for his insolence, his heartless injustice. But I repressedmyself; I knew nothing was to be gained by violence.
"'Master,' said I, 'what you say is no doubt very flattering.
But I wantwhat my master gave me--what you promised that I should have--I shall becontented with nothing else.'
"'What! you persist?' he said, kindling up. 'Let me tell you now, Pomp,once for all, you'll have to be contented with a good deal less; andnever mention the word "freedom" to me again if you would keep thatprecious hide of yours whole!'
"I saw he meant it, and that there was no help for me. Despair and furywere in me. Then, for the only time in my life, I felt what it was towish to murder a man. I could have smitten the life out of that smiling,handsome face of his! Thank God I was kept from that. I concealed whatwas burning within. Then first I learned to pray,--I learned to trust inGod. And so better thoughts came to me; and I said, 'If he uses me well,I will serve him; if not, I will run for my life.'
"Well, he brought me here to Tennessee. Here he was managing his aunt'sestate, which she, soon dying, bequeathed to him. Up to this time I hadgot on very well; but he never liked me; he often said I knew too much,and was too proud. He was determined to humiliate me; so one day he saidto me, 'Pomp, that Nance has been acting ugly of late, and you permither.' I was a sort of overseer, you see. 'Now I'll tell you what I amgoing to have done. Nance is going to be whipped, and you are the fellowthat's going to whip her.'
"'Pardon, master,' said I, 'that's what I never did--to whip a woman.'
"'Then it's time for you to begin. I've had enough of your fine manners,Pomp, and now you have got to come down a little.'
"'I will do any thing you please to serve your interests, sir,' said I.'But whip a woman I never can, and never will. That's so, master.'
"'You villain!' he shouted, seizing a riding whip, 'I'll teach you todefy my authority to my face!' And he sprang at me, furious with rage.
"'Take care, sir!' I said, stepping back. ''Twill be better for both ofus for you not to strike me!'
"'What! you threaten, you villain?'
"'I do not threaten, sir; but I say what I say. It will be better forboth of us. You will never strike me twice. I tell you that.'
"I reckon he saw something dangerous in me, as I said this, for, insteadof striking, he immediately called for help. 'Sam! Harry! Nap! bind thisdevil! Be quick!'
"'They won't do it!' said I. 'Woe to the man that lays a finger on me,be he master or be he slave!'
"'I'll see about that!' said he, running into the house. He came outagain in a minute with his rifle. I was standing there still, the boysall keeping a safe distance, not one daring to touch me.
"'Master,' said I, 'hear one word. I am perfectly willing to die. Longenough you have robbed me of my liberty, and now you are welcome to whatis less precious--my poor life. But for your own sake, for your deadbrother's sake, let me warn you to beware what you do.'
"I suppose the allusion to his injustice towards me maddened him. Helevelled his piece, and pulled the trigger. Luckily the percussion wasdamp,--or else I should not be talking with you now. His aim wasstraight at my head. I did not give him time for a second attempt. I wason him in an instant. I beat him down, I trampled him with rage. Isnatched his gun from him, and lifted it to smash his skull. Just then avoice cried, 'Don't, Pomp! don't kill master!'
"It was Nance, pleading for the man who would have had her whipped. Icouldn't stand that. Her mercy made me merciful. 'Good by, boys!' Isaid. They were all standing around, motionless with terror. 'Good by,Nance! I am off; live or die, I quit this man's service forever!'
"So I left him," said Pomp, "and ran for the woods. I was soon rangingthese mountains, free, a wild man whom not even their blood-hounds couldcatch. I took the gun with me--a good one: here it is." He removed therifle from its crevice in the rocks. "Do you know that name? It is thatof its former owner--the man who called himself my master. Do you thinkit was taking too much from one who would have robbed me of my soul?"
He held the stock over the bed, so that Penn could make out thelettering. Delicately engraved on a surface of inlaid silver, was thewell-known name,--
"_Augustus Bythewood._"