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On going down stairs she found a servant in waiting with her horse ready saddled, who said: "Mornin', Miss Mollie. Marse Hesden said ez how I was ter tell yer dat he was dat busy dis mornin' dat he couldn't go ter ride wid yer to-day, nohow. I wuz ter gib yer his compliments, all de same, an' say he hopes yer'll hev a pleasant ride, an' he wants ter see yer when yer gits back.
Then the thought of the man in the public-house, of the half-crowns, a host of confused and guilty memories, swept upon her. How could she ever get herself out of it? Her heart beat so that it seemed a live creature strangling and silencing her. She was still fighting with her tears and her terror when she heard Isaac say "I know yer'll try, and I'll help yer.
There was a little cold tea in a cup close to him that Bessie had forgotten. He stretched out his hand, and took a mouthful, moistening his dry lips and throat. 'Yer'll go to prison for this, he said, jerking it out as he put the cup down. He saw her shiver. Her nerve was failing her. The convulsive sobs continued, but she ceased to abuse him.
"Any pusson could have guessed dat ar," put in Victoria, in an irritated way; "yer needn't make sich a mysteriousness." "I shall make a mysteriousness or shall luff it alone, jis' as I tink best," retorted Clo, "so yer needn't go a meddlin' wid my dumplin', Miss Vic, 'cause yer'll git yer fingers burnt if yer does."
I've told William to stick pins in me when my time comes." "Anybody could tell w'en you're dead," said Chook. "Why, 'ow?" cried Mrs Partridge, eagerly. "Yer'll stop gassin' about yerself," cried Chook, roughly. Mrs Partridge started to smile, and then stopped. It dawned slowly on her mind that she was insulted, and she rose to her feet. "Thank's fer yer nasty remark," she cried.
Perceiving that he had Little Lizay's sympathy, Alston went on talking, telling her that he could stand a lashing coming from his own master, but that an overseer was only white trash, who never did "own a nigger," and never would be able to. If he had to be flogged, he wanted it to be by a gentleman. "Never min'," said Little Lizay. "Maybe yer'll git mo' ter-morrer.
"But we can't," Freckles entered her prosaic protest, "'cause we're squattin'." "Well, get up then, yer'll have to; an' then if you stomp awful, an' holler 'On-ko on-ko! that's what they say at the thayertre I'll give yer somethin' else " "Wot?" demanded 206 suspiciously. "Don't yer wish I'd tell!" said 208, and began the minuet.
"He didn't go ter do it, Mos' Buck," pleaded Little Lizay, frightened for Alston. "He'll whip me ef yer'll give 'im the whip. I's ready, Als'on." She crossed her arms over her bare bosom and shook her long hair forward: then dropped her face low and stood with her back partly turned to Alston, who now had the whip. "Fire away!" said the overseer.
Be quick and get your suppers, for it's awful late, an' that little 'un ought to be in bed." "Bob," whispered Willie, "yer'll speak to Jesus afore we go to bed, won't yer? The lady said 'e would 'ear." So the two little waifs knelt in their corner with their eyes tightly shut, and Bob prayed in a low voice "Please, Sir, me an' Willie wants to find Yer. Make us good boys, an' show us the way."
She ceased, her hand plucking again at the comforter, her throat working. He, too, thought of the loving words he had said to her, and the memory of them only made his misery the more fierce. "An' there ain't no way out," he said violently, raising his head. "Yer'll be took before the magistrates next week, an' the assizes 'ull be in February, an' yer'll get six months if yer don't get more."
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