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Updated: May 13, 2025
"Straight on den, Massa," said Dio, climbing in at the hinder part of the waggon, "den turn to de right, and den to de lef', and we are at Massa Bracher's." My father drove on as fast as the horses could go, for although the weather was tolerably warm, my teeth were chattering with cold and fright, and he was anxious, wet as we were, not to expose my mother and me to the night air.
"Now, young woman, you go to me room, and me give you some dry clothes, while your man, him go into Massa Bracher's room." My father, however, first came and had a look at me and almost the minute afterwards I was fast asleep. When I awoke I saw a person standing near me, dressed so exactly like Mammy Coe, that at first I thought it was her, but I quickly discovered that she was my mother.
How far off Silas Bracher's train was encamped we were uncertain, but we knew that the men could not possibly reach it, if it was on the usual route, until some hours after noon, indeed they could not get out of the wood bordering the lake, until daylight. "Can you go on, Mike?" asked Mr Tidey. "I will until I drop, and I don't feel at all inclined to do that just yet," I answered.
Except ledgers and account books, probably not a volume of any description was to be found in Mr Bracher's establishment. For hours together Kathleen would occupy a high chair, with Dio seated on the ground by her side, while she taught him the alphabet or read to him some interesting tale out of one of her books.
"What has happened up at the farm, Mike?" asked my uncle, after we had exchanged greetings; "we met just now three of Bracher's men, who were swearing away at your father and all of you in a fashion which made me fear that they had either done some mischief, or intended doing it.
I do not believe that my father heard the last remark of the black, as he was engaged in replacing some of the articles in the waggon which had escaped being washed out, for he answered "Yes, by all means, we will drive on to Mr Bracher's plantation. It's not very far off, I hope, for the sooner we can get on dry clothing the better."
After an affectionate farewell, Uncle Denis turned his horse's head, and rode back, while we continued our journey to "Uphill," the name my father had given to his property. Avoiding Mr Bracher's location, we drove down to the ford, and as the water was much lower than when we before crossed it, we got over in safety, though my mother naturally felt very nervous as we were making the passage.
I have a perfect right to receive any strangers into my house who come to me in distress, and if they trust to me I'll defend them with my life," said my father. "Your life's not worth the snuff of a candle, then," answered the leader of the party, one of Mr Bracher's principal overseers.
We lived literally in a state of siege, for every day information was brought us that suspected persons were hovering about, and it was evident that Mr Bracher's emissaries had not given up hope of recapturing the fugitive. Some days passed away.
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