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"I wunner whah that little scamp is," she said, smiling; "I tol' him to hu'y home, but I reckon he's stayin' out latah wid de evenin' papahs so's to bring home mo' money." Hour after hour passed and he did not come; then she grew alarmed.
Buford sprang up and turned to flee, but at the back door, her large form a towering and impassive barrier, stood Aunt Dicey. "Oh, don't hu'y, Brothah Buford," she said calmly, "set down an' he'p yo'se'f. Dese hyeah's my friends." It was the next day that Robert Fairfax saw him in his cell. The man's face was ashen with coward's terror. He was like a caught rat though, bitingly on the defensive.
Ben remonstrated with her, and she answered him: "No, suh! I ain' goin' 'sociate wid slaves! I's free!" "But you cuttin' out yo' own husban'." "Dat's diff'ent. I's jined to my husban'." And then petulantly: "I do wish you'd hu'y up an' git yo' free papahs, Ben." "Dey'll be a long time a-comin'," he said; "yeahs f'om now. Mebbe I'd abettah got mine fust."
"Not yit, but I's gwine to ez soon ez evah I gets de chanst now." "Uh, huh," said the preacher, and he began to hasten his steps homeward. "Seems lak you in a pow'ful hu'y to-night," said his companion, with some difficulty accommodating his own step to the preacher's masterly strides. He was a short man and his pastor was tall and gaunt.
"Hit was des dis away, Brothah Hayward, I was allus lingerin' on de brink, feahful to la'nch away, but now I's a-gwine to la'nch, case dat all dis time tain't been nuffin but fo'-destination dat been a-holdin' me on." "Ahem," said the minister; "we mus' not be in too big a hu'y to put ouah human weaknesses upon some divine cause."
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