How They Stole The Preacher
THE scenes we have described in the foregoing chapter have not yet been brought to a close. In and about the tavern2 may be seen groups of men, in the last stage of muddled3 mellowness4, the rank fumes5 of bad liquor making the very air morbid6. Conclaves7 of grotesque9 figures are seated in the veranda10 and drinking-room, breaking the midnight stillness with their stifled11 songs, their frenzied12 congratulations, their political jargon13; nothing of fatal consequence would seem to have happened.
"Did master send for me? You've risen from a rag shop, my man!" interrupts the physician.
"Master there-sorry to see him sick-owns me." Harry14 cast a subdued15 look on the bed where lay his late purchaser.
Harry's appearance is not the most prepossessing,--he might have been taken for anything else but a minister of the gospel; though the quick eye of the southerner readily detected those frank and manly16 features which belong to a class of very dark men who exhibit uncommon17 natural genius.
At the sound of Harry's voice, M'Fadden makes an effort to raise himself on his elbow. The loss of blood has so reduced his physical power that his effort is unsuccessful. He sinks back, prostrate,--requests the physician to assist him in turning over. He will face his preacher. Putting out his hand, he embraces him cordially,--motions him to be seated.
The black preacher, that article of men merchandise, takes a seat at the bed-side, while the man of medicine withdraws to the table. The summons is as acceptable to Harry as it is strange to the physician, who has never before witnessed so strange a scene of familiarity between slave and master. All is silent for several minutes. Harry looks at his master, as if questioning the motive18 for which he is summoned into his presence; and still he can read the deep anxiety playing upon M'Fadden's distorted countenance19. At length, Harry, feeling that his presence may be intrusive20, breaks the silence by enquiring21 if there is anything he can do for master. Mr. M'Fadden whispers something, lays his trembling hand on Harry's, casts a meaning glance at the physician, and seems to swoon. Returning to his bed-side, the physician lays his hand upon the sick man's brow; he will ascertain22 the state of his system.
"Give-him-his-Bible," mutters the wounded man, pointing languidly to the table. "Give it to him that he may ask God's blessing23 for me-for me-for me,--"
The doctor obeys his commands, and the wretch24, heart bounding with joy, receives back his inspiring companion. It is dear to him, and with a smile of gratitude25 invading his countenance he returns thanks. There is pleasure in that little book. "And now, Harry, my boy," says M'Fadden, raising his hand to Harry's shoulder, and looking imploringly26 in his face as he regains28 strength; "forgive what I have done. I took from you that which was most dear to your feelings; I took it from you when the wounds of your heart were gushing29 with grief-" He makes an effort to say more, but his voice fails; he will wait a few moments.
The kind words touch Harry's feelings; tears glistening31 in his eyes tell how he struggles to suppress the emotions of his heart. "Did you mean my wife and children, master?" he enquires33.
M'Fadden, somewhat regaining34 strength, replies in the affirmative. He acknowledges to have seen that the thing "warn't just right." His imagination has been wandering through the regions of heaven, where, he is fully35 satisfied, there is no objection to a black face. God has made a great opening in his eyes and heart just now. He sees and believes such things as he neither saw nor believed before; they pass like clouds before his eyes, never, never to be erased36 from his memory. Never before has he thought much about repentance37; but now that he sees heaven on one side and hell on the other, all that once seemed right in bartering38 and selling the bodies and souls of men, vanishes. There, high above all, is the vengeance39 of heaven written in letters of blood, execrating40 such acts, and pointing to the retribution. It is a burning consciousness of all the suffering he has inflicted41 upon his negroes. Death, awful monitor! stares him in the face; it holds the stern realities of truth and justice before him; it tells him of the wrong,--points him to the right. The unbending mandates42 of slave law, giving to man power to debase himself with crimes the judicious43 dare not punish, are being consumed before Omnipotence44, the warning voice of which is calling him to his last account.
And now the wounded man is all condescension45, hoping forgiveness! His spirit has yielded to Almighty46 power; he no longer craves47 for property in man; no, his coarse voice is subdued into softest accents. He whispers "coloured man," as if the merchandise changed as his thoughts are brought in contact with revelations of the future.
"Take the Bible, my good boy-take it, read it to me, before I die. Read it, that it may convert my soul. If I have neglected myself on earth, forgive me; receive my repentance, and let me be saved from eternal misery48. Read, my dear good boy,"-M'Fadden grasps his hand tighter and tighter-"and let your voice be a warning to those who never look beyond earth and earth's enjoyments49." The physician thinks his patient will get along until morning, and giving directions to the attendants, leaves him.
Harry has recovered from the surprise which so sudden a change of circumstances produced, and has drawn50 from the patient the cause of his suffering. He opens the restored Bible, and reads from it, to Mr. M'Fadden's satisfaction. He reads from Job; the words producing a deep effect upon the patient's mind.
The wretched preacher, whose white soul is concealed51 beneath black skin, has finished his reading. He will now address himself to his master, in the following simple manner.
"Master, it is one thing to die, and another to die happy. It is one thing to be prepared to die, another to forget that we have to die, to leave the world and its nothingness behind us. But you are not going to die, not now. Master, the Lord will forgive you if you, make your repentance durable52. 'Tis only the fear of death that has produced the change on your mind. Do, master! learn the Lord; be just to we poor creatures, for the Lord now tells you it is not right to buy and sell us."
"Buy and sell you!" interrupts the frightened man, making an effort to rise from his pillow; "that I never will, man nor woman. If God spares my life, my people shall be liberated53; I feel different on that subject, now! The difference between the commerce of this world and the glory of heaven brightens before me. I was an ignorant man on all religious matters; I only wanted to be set right in the way of the Lord,--that's all." Again he draws his face under the sheet, writhing54 with the pain of his wound.
"I wish everybody could see us as master does, about this time; for surely God can touch the heart of the most hardened. But master ain't going to die so soon as he thinks," mutters Harry, wiping the sweat from his face, as he lays his left hand softly upon master's arm. "God guide us in all coming time, and make us forget the retribution that awaits our sins!" he concludes, with a smile glowing on his countenance.
The half spoken words catch upon the patient's ear. He starts suddenly from his pillow, as if eager to receive some favourable55 intelligence. "Don't you think my case dangerous, my boy? Do you know how deep is the wound?" he enquires, his glassy eyes staring intently at Harry.
"It is all the same, master!" is the reply.
"Give me your hand again"-M'Fadden grasps his hand and seems to revive-"pray for me now; your prayers will be received into heaven, they will serve me there!"
"Ah, master," says Harry, kindly56, interrupting him at this juncture57, "I feel more than ever like a christian58. It does my heart good to hear you talk so true, so kind. How different from yesterday! then I was a poor slave, forced from my children, with nobody to speak a kind word for me; everybody to reckon me as a good piece of property only. I forgive you, master-I forgive you; God is a loving God, and will forgive you also." The sick man is consoled; and, while his preacher kneels at his bed-side, offering up a prayer imploring27 forgiveness, he listens to the words as they fall like cooling drops on his burning soul. The earnestness--the fervency59 and pathos60 of the words, as they gush30 forth61 from the lips of a wretch, produce a still deeper effect upon the wounded man. Nay62, there is even a chord loosened in his heart; he sobs63 audibly. "Live on earth so as to be prepared for heaven; that when death knocks at the door you may receive him as a welcome guest. But, master! you cannot meet our Father in heaven while the sin of selling men clings to your garments. Let your hair grow grey with justice, and God will reward you," he concludes.
"True, Harry; true!"--he lays his hand on the black man's shoulder, is about to rise--"it is the truth plainly told, and nothing more." He will have a glass of water to quench64 his thirst; Harry must bring it to him, for there is consolation65 in his touch. Seized with another pain, he grasps with his left hand the arm of his consoler, works his fingers through his matted hair, breathes violently, contorts his face haggardly, as if suffering acutely. Harry waits till the spasm66 has subsided67, then calls an attendant to watch the patient while he goes to the well. This done he proceeds into the kitchen to enquire32 for a vessel68. Having entered that department as the clock strikes two, he finds Ellen busily engaged preparing food for Mr. M'Fadden's property, which is yet fast secured in the pen. Feeling himself a little more at liberty to move about unrestrained, he procures69 a vessel, fills it at the well, carries it to his master's bed-side, sees him comfortably cared for, and returns to the kitchen, where he will assist Ellen in her mission of goodness.
The little pen is situated70 a few yards from the tavern, on the edge of a clump71 of tall pines.
Ellen has got ready the corn and bacon, and with Harry she proceeds to the pen, where the property are still enjoying that inestimable boon,--a deep sleep.
"Always sleeping," he says, waking them one by one at the announcement of corn and bacon. "Start up and get something good my girl has prepared for you." He shakes them, while Ellen holds the lantern. There is something piercing in the summons-meats are strong arguments with the slave-they start from their slumbers72, seize upon the food, and swallow it with great relish73. Harry and Ellen stand smiling over the gusto with which they swallow their coarse meal.
"You must be good boys to-night. Old master's sick; flat down on e' back, and 'spects he's going to die, he does." Harry shakes his head as he tells it to the astonished merchandise. "Had a great time at the crossing to-day; killed two or three certain, and almost put master on the plank74."
"'Twarn't no matter, nohow: nobody lose nofin if old Boss do die: nigger on e' plantation75 don' put e' hat in mournin'," mutters the negro woman, with an air of hatred76. She has eaten her share of the meal, shrugs77 her shoulders, and again stretches her valuable body on the ground.
"Uncle Sparton know'd old Boss warn't gwine t' be whar de debil couldn't cotch 'em, so long as 'e tink. If dat old mas'r debil, what white man talk 'bout1 so much, don' gib 'em big roasting win 'e git 'e dah, better hab no place wid fireins fo' such folks," speaks up old Uncle Sparton, one of the negroes, whose face shines like a black-balled boot.
"Neber mind dat, Uncle Sparton; 'taint78 what ye say 'bout he. Ven mas'r debil cotch old Boss 'e don't cotch no fool. Mas'r debil down yander find old Boss too tuf fo' he business; he jus' like old hoss what neber die," rejoins another.
In a word, M'Fadden had told his negroes what a great democrat79 he was-how he loved freedom and a free country-until their ideas of freedom became strangely mystified; and they ventured to assert that he would not find so free a country when the devil became his keeper. "Mas'r tink 'e carry 'e plantation t' t'oder world wid him, reckon," Uncle Sparton grumblingly80 concludes, joining the motley conclave8 of property about to resume its repose81.
Ellen returns to the house. Harry will remain, and have a few words more with the boys. A few minutes pass, and Ellen returns with an armful of blankets, with which she covers the people carefully and kindly. How full of goodness-how touching82 is the act! She has done her part, and she returns to the house in advance of Harry, who stops to take a parting good-night, and whisper a word of consolation in their ears. He looks upon them as dear brothers in distress83, objects for whom he has a fellow sympathy. He leaves them for the night; closes the door after him; locks it. He will return to Ellen, and enjoy a mutual84 exchange of feeling.
Scarcely has he left the door, when three persons, disguised, rush upon him, muffle85 his head with a blanket, bind86 his hands and feet, throw him bodily into a waggon87, and drive away at a rapid speed.
收听单词发音 |
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bout
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| n.侵袭，发作；一次(阵，回)；拳击等比赛 | |
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tavern
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| n.小旅馆，客栈；小酒店 | |
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muddled
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| adj.混乱的；糊涂的；头脑昏昏然的v.弄乱，弄糟( muddle的过去式)；使糊涂；对付，混日子 | |
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mellowness
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| 成熟； 芳醇； 肥沃； 怡然 | |
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fumes
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| n.(强烈而刺激的)气味，气体 | |
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morbid
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| adj.病的；致病的；病态的；可怕的 | |
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conclaves
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| n.秘密会议，教皇选举会议，红衣主教团( conclave的名词复数 ) | |
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conclave
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| n.秘密会议，红衣主教团 | |
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grotesque
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| adj.怪诞的，丑陋的；n.怪诞的图案，怪人（物） | |
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veranda
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| n.走廊；阳台 | |
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stifled
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| （使）窒息， （使）窒闷( stifle的过去式和过去分词 )； 镇压，遏制； 堵 | |
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frenzied
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| a.激怒的；疯狂的 | |
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jargon
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| n.术语，行话 | |
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harry
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| vt.掠夺，蹂躏，使苦恼 | |
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subdued
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| adj. 屈服的，柔和的，减弱的 动词subdue的过去式和过去分词 | |
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manly
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| adj.有男子气概的；adv.男子般地，果断地 | |
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uncommon
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| adj.罕见的，非凡的，不平常的 | |
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motive
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| n.动机，目的；adv.发动的，运动的 | |
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countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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intrusive
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| adj.打搅的；侵扰的 | |
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enquiring
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| a.爱打听的，显得好奇的 | |
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ascertain
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| vt.发现，确定，查明，弄清 | |
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blessing
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| n.祈神赐福；祷告；祝福，祝愿 | |
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wretch
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| n.可怜的人，不幸的人；卑鄙的人 | |
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gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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imploringly
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| adv. 恳求地, 哀求地 | |
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imploring
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| 恳求的，哀求的 | |
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regains
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| 复得( regain的第三人称单数 )； 赢回； 重回； 复至某地 | |
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gushing
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| adj.迸出的；涌出的；喷出的；过分热情的v.喷，涌( gush的现在分词 )；滔滔不绝地说话 | |
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gush
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| v.喷，涌；滔滔不绝(说话)；n.喷，涌流；迸发 | |
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glistening
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| adj.闪耀的，反光的v.湿物闪耀，闪亮( glisten的现在分词 ) | |
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enquire
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| v.打听，询问；调查，查问 | |
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enquires
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| 打听( enquire的第三人称单数 )； 询问； 问问题； 查问 | |
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regaining
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| 复得( regain的现在分词 )； 赢回； 重回； 复至某地 | |
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fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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erased
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| v.擦掉( erase的过去式和过去分词 )；抹去；清除 | |
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repentance
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| n.懊悔 | |
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bartering
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| v.作物物交换，以货换货( barter的现在分词 ) | |
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vengeance
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| n.报复，报仇，复仇 | |
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execrating
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| v.憎恶( execrate的现在分词 )；厌恶；诅咒；咒骂 | |
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inflicted
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| 把…强加给，使承受，遭受( inflict的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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mandates
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| 托管（mandate的第三人称单数形式） | |
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judicious
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| adj.明智的，明断的，能作出明智决定的 | |
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omnipotence
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| n.全能，万能，无限威力 | |
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condescension
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| n.自以为高人一等，贬低(别人) | |
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almighty
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| adj.全能的，万能的；很大的，很强的 | |
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craves
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| 渴望，热望( crave的第三人称单数 )； 恳求，请求 | |
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misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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enjoyments
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| 愉快( enjoyment的名词复数 )； 令人愉快的事物； 享有； 享受 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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durable
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| adj.持久的，耐久的 | |
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liberated
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| a.无拘束的，放纵的 | |
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writhing
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| （因极度痛苦而）扭动或翻滚( writhe的现在分词 ) | |
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favourable
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| adj.赞成的，称赞的，有利的，良好的，顺利的 | |
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kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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juncture
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| n.时刻，关键时刻，紧要关头 | |
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Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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fervency
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| n.热情的；强烈的；热烈 | |
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pathos
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| n.哀婉，悲怆 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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nay
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| adv.不；n.反对票，投反对票者 | |
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sobs
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| 啜泣（声），呜咽（声）( sob的名词复数 ) | |
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64
quench
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| vt.熄灭，扑灭；压制 | |
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consolation
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| n.安慰，慰问 | |
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spasm
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| n.痉挛，抽搐；一阵发作 | |
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subsided
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| v.（土地）下陷（因在地下采矿）( subside的过去式和过去分词 )；减弱；下降至较低或正常水平；一下子坐在椅子等上 | |
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vessel
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| n.船舶；容器，器皿；管，导管，血管 | |
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procures
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| v.（努力）取得， （设法）获得( procure的第三人称单数 )；拉皮条 | |
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situated
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| adj.坐落在...的，处于某种境地的 | |
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clump
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| n.树丛，草丛；vi.用沉重的脚步行走 | |
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slumbers
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| 睡眠，安眠( slumber的名词复数 ) | |
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relish
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| n.滋味，享受，爱好，调味品；vt.加调味料，享受，品味；vi.有滋味 | |
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plank
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| n.板条，木板，政策要点，政纲条目 | |
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plantation
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| n.种植园，大农场 | |
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hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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shrugs
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| n.耸肩（以表示冷淡，怀疑等）( shrug的名词复数 ) | |
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78
taint
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| n.污点；感染；腐坏；v.使感染；污染 | |
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79
democrat
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| n.民主主义者，民主人士；民主党党员 | |
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80
grumblingly
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| 喃喃报怨着，发牢骚着 | |
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81
repose
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| v.(使)休息；n.安息 | |
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82
touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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83
distress
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| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
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84
mutual
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| adj.相互的，彼此的；共同的，共有的 | |
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85
muffle
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| v.围裹；抑制；发低沉的声音 | |
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86
bind
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| vt.捆，包扎；装订；约束；使凝固；vi.变硬 | |
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87
waggon
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| n.运货马车，运货车；敞篷车箱 | |
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