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Pompey, waiting to drive the doctor home, caught the words, spoken as he descended the steps to enter the carriage, and came forward eagerly. "If you please, Missus," he said, touching his hat, "Dyce would come. She's hed a powerful sight of 'sperience nussin' fevers in New Orleans. She'd be proper glad ter tend Miss 'Vadney." "How is that?" questioned the busy doctor.
"Why, Pompey, do you know him?" A great joy transfigured the black face. "He is my Frien'," he said simply. Evadne leaned forward eagerly. "Oh, Pompey, if that is true, then you can help me find him." Pompey smiled joyously. "Miss 'Vadney don't need ter go far away fer dat. He is right here." "Here!" echoed Evadne faintly. "Lo, I am wid you all de days'" Pompey repeated softly.
"Pompey," she said wistfully, "dear Pompey, is the pain terrible to bear?" The faithful eyes looked up at her, the brave lips tried to smile. "De Lord Jesus is a powerful help in de time of trubble, Miss 'Vadney; I'se leanin' on his arm." Evadne repeated, as well as she could for tears.
It's drefful comfortin' work, Miss 'Vadney." The chill March wind blew fiercely along the streets of Marlborough one afternoon and Evadne shivered. She had been standing for an hour wedged tightly against the doors of the Opera House by an impatient crowd which swayed hither and thither in a fruitless effort to force an entrance.
"When de Lord gives us everything in perfecshun, 'specs it would be terrible shifles' of me ter spoil it in de cookin', Miss 'Vadney." "The Lord," repeated Evadne. "You know him too, then? You must, if you live with Pompey." Dyce's face grew luminous. "He is my joy!" she said softly. "And does he make you happy all the time?" asked the girl wistfully. "You seem to have to work as hard as Pompey.
It is as bad as a tread-mill. You just keep on going round and round." Pompey gave one of his low chuckles. "'Specs dat's de way in dis worl', Miss 'Vadney. We'se got ter keep on eatin', an' we can't sleep enuff one night ter last fer a week, but I 'low it's jes' one o' de beautiful laws ob de Lord, de sun an' de moon an' de stars keeps a'goin over de same ground most continuous.
"Pompey," he said, "this is Miss Evadne Hildreth from Barbadoes." The man bent his head low over the little hand which was instantly stretched out to him. "I'se very glad to see Miss 'Vadney," he said with simple fervor. "I was powerful fond of Mass Lennux;" and Evadne felt she had received her warmest welcome.
"Dat's a no 'count livery notion, Miss 'Vadney, a coverin' up de cracks an' makin' de horse's hufs look better dan dey is. De King's chillens can't stoop ter any sech decepshuns. De Lord Jesus says, 'Pompey, I is de truff. You's got ter speak de truff an' live de truff ef you belongs ter me. We ain't got no call ter cover up anything, Miss 'Vadney, ef we'se livin' ez de Lord wants us to.
"De Lord Jesus don't leave no gaps in his promises, Miss 'Vadney. He's allers wid me wherever I is workin', an' when I is up on my box a drivin' troo de streets, he's dere. He's wid me continuous. Dere's nuthin can seprate Pompey from de Lord," he added with a sweet reverence. "How can you be so sure?" she asked wistfully. "I hez his word, Missy. You allers b'lieved your father?
Evadne stood watching him as he gave finishing touches to the silver mountings of the handsome harness. "I don't believe there is another harness in Marlborough that shines like yours, Pompey," she said with a laugh. "You are as particular with it as though every day was a special occasion." "So 'tis, Miss 'Vadney," said Pompey simply. "Can't slight nuthin' when de Lord's lookin' on. Whoa, Brutis!
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