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“That he won’t do；” said Cassy。
“Won’t；—eh？”
“No； he won’t；” said Cassy。
“I’d like to know why； Mistress；” said Legree； in the extreme of scorn。
“Because he’s done right； and he knows it； and won’t say he’s done wrong。”
“Who a cuss cares what he knows？ The nigger shall say what I please； or—”
“Or； you’ll lose your bet on the cotton crop； by keeping him out of the field； just at this very press。”
“But he will give up；—course； he will； don’t I know what niggers is？ He’ll beg like a dog； this morning。”
He won’t； Simon； you don’t know this kind。 You may kill him by inches；—you won’t get the first word of confession out of him。”
“We’ll see；—where is he？” said Legree； going out。
“In the waste…room of the gin…house；” said Cassy。
Legree； though he talked so stoutly to Cassy； still sallied forth from the house with a degree of misgiving which was not common with him。 His dreams of the past night； mingled with Cassy’s prudential suggestions； considerably affected his mind。 He resolved that nobody should be witness of his encounter with Tom； and determined； if he could not subdue him by bullying； to defer his vengeance； to be wreaked in a more convenient season。
The solemn light of dawn—the angelic glory of the morning…star—had looked in through the rude window of the shed where Tom was lying； and； as if descending on that star…beam； came the solemn words； “I am the root and offspring of David； and the bright and morning star。” The mysterious warnings and intimations of Cassy； so far from discouraging his soul； in the end had roused it as with a heavenly call。 He did not know but that the day of his death was dawning in the sky； and his heart throbbed with solemn throes of joy and desire； as he thought that the wondrous all； of which he had often pondered；—the great white throne； with its ever radiant rainbow； the white…robed multitude； with voices as many waters； the crowns； the palms； the harps；—might all break upon his vision before that sun should set again。 And； therefore； without shuddering or trembling； he heard the voice of his persecutor； as he drew near。
“Well； my boy；” said Legree； with a contemptuous kick； “how do you find yourself？ Didn’t I tell yer I could larn yer a thing or two？ How do yer like it—eh？
How did yer whaling agree with yer； Tom？ An’t quite so crank as ye was last night。 Ye couldn’t treat a poor sinner； now； to a bit of sermon； could ye；—eh？”
Tom answered nothing。
“Get up； you beast！” said Legree； kicking him again。
This was a difficult matter for one so bruised and faint； and； as Tom made efforts to do so； Legree laughed brutally。
“What makes ye so spry； this morning； Tom？ Cotched cold； may be； last night。”
Tom by this time had gained his feet； and was confronting his master with a steady； unmoved front。
“The devil； you can！” said Legree； looking him over。 “I believe you haven’t got enough yet。 Now； Tom； get right down on yer knees and beg my pardon； for yer shines last night。”
Tom did not move。
“Down； you dog！” said Legree； striking him with his riding…whip。
“Mas’r Legree；” said Tom； “I can’t do it。 I did only what I thought was right。 I shall do just so again； if ever the time comes。 I never will do a cruel thing； come what may。”
“Yes； but ye don’t know what may come； Master Tom。 Ye think what you’ve got is something。 I tell you ’tan’t anything；—nothing ’t all。 How would ye like to be tied to a tree； and have a slow fire lit up around ye；—wouldn’t that be pleasant；—eh； Tom？”
“Mas’r；” said Tom； “I know ye can do dreadful things； but；”—he stretched himself upward and clasped his hands；—“but； after ye’ve killed the body； there an’t no more ye can do。 And O； there’s all ETERNITY to come； after that！”
ETERNITY；—the word thrilled through the black man’s soul with light and power； as he spoke； it thrilled through the sinner’s soul； too； like the bite of a scorpion。 Legree gnashed on him with his teeth； but rage kept him silent； and Tom； like a man disenthralled； spoke； in a clear and cheerful voice；
“Mas’r Legree； as ye bought me； I’ll be a true and faithful servant to ye。 I’ll give ye all the work of my hands； all my time； all my strength； but my soul I won’t give up to mortal man。 I will hold on to the Lord； and put his commands before all；—die or live； you may be sure on ’t。 Mas’r Legree； I ain’t a grain afeard to die。 I’d as soon die as not。 Ye may whip me； starve me； burn me；—it’ll only send me sooner where I want to go。”
“I’ll make ye give out； though； ’fore I’ve done！” said Legree； in a rage。
“I shall have help；” said Tom； “you’ll never do it。”
“Who the devil’s going to help you？” said Legree； scornfully。
“The Lord Almighty；” said Tom。
“D—n you！” said Legree； as with one blow of his fist he felled Tom to the earth。
A cold soft hand fell on Legree’s at this moment。 He turned；—it was Cassy’s； but the cold soft touch recalled his dream of the night before； and； flashing through the chambers of his brain； came all the fearful images of the night…watches； with a portion of the horror that acomompanied them。
“Will you be a fool？” said Cassy； in French。 “Let him go！ Let me alone to get him fit to be in the field again。 Isn’t it just as I told you？”
They say the alligator； the rhinoceros； though enclosed in bullet…proof mail； have each a spot where they are vulnerable； and fierce； reckless； unbelieving reprobates； have commonly this point in superstitious dread。
Legree turned away； determined to let the point go for the time。
“Well； have it your own way；” he said； doggedly； to Cassy。
“Hark； ye！” he said to Tom； “I won’t deal with ye now； because the business is pressing； and I want all my hands； but I never forget。 I’ll score it against ye； and sometime I’ll have my pay out o’ yer old black hide；—mind ye！”
Legree turned； and went out。
“There you go；” said Cassy； looking darkly after him； “your reckoning’s to come； yet！—My poor fellow； how are you？”
“The Lord God hath sent his angel； and shut the lion’s mouth； for this time；” said Tom。
“For this time； to be sure；” said Cassy； “but now you’ve got his ill will upon you； to follow you day in； day out； hanging like a dog on your throat；—sucking your blood； bleeding away your life； drop by drop。 I know the man。”
Chapter 37
Liberty
“No matter with what solemnities he may have been devoted upon the altar of slavery； the moment he touches the sacred soil of Britain； the altar and the God sink together in the dust； and he stands redeemed； regenerated； and disenthralled； by the irresistible genius of universal emancipation。” Curran。1
A while we must leave Tom in the hands of his persecutors； while we turn to pursue the fortunes of George and his wife； whom we left in friendly hands； in a farmhouse on the road…side。
Tom Loker we left groaning and touzling in a most immaculately clean Quaker bed； under the motherly supervision of Aunt Dorcas； who found him to the full as tractable a patient as a sick bison。
Imagine a tall； dignified； spiritual woman； whose clear muslin cap shades waves of silvery hair； parted on a broad； clear forehead； which overarches thoughtful gray eyes。 A snowy handkerchief of lisse crape is folded neatly across her bosom； her glossy brown silk dress rustles peacefully； as she glides up and down the chamber。
“The devil！” says Tom Loker； giving a great throw to the bedclothes。
“I must request thee； Thomas； not to use such language；” says Aunt Dorcas； as she quietly rearranged the bed。
“Well； I won’t； granny； if I can help it；” says Tom； “but it is enough to make a fellow swear；—so cursedly hot！”
Dorcas removed a comforter from the bed； straightened the clothes again； and tucked them in till Tom looked something like a chrysalis； remarking； as she did so；
“I wish； friend； thee would leave off cursing and swearing； and think upon thy ways。”
“What the devil；” said Tom； “should I think of them for？ thing ever I want to think of—hang it all！” And Tom flounced over； untucking and disarranging everything； in a manner frightful to behold。
“That fellow and gal are here； I ’spose；” said he； sullenly； after a pause。
“They are so；” said Dorcas。
“They’d better be off up to the lake；” said Tom； “the quicker the better。”
“Probably they will do so；” said Aunt Dorcas； knitting peacefully。
“And hark ye；” said Tom； “we’ve got correspondents in Sandusky； that watch the boats for us。 I don’t care if I tell； now。 I hope they will get away； just to spite Marks；—the cursed puppy！—d—n him！”
“Thomas！” said Dorcas。
“I tell you； granny； if you bottle a fellow up too tight； I shall split；” said Tom。 “But about the gal；—tell ’em to dress her up some way； so’s to alter her。 Her description’s out in Sandusky。”
“We will attend to that matter；” said Dorcas； with characteristic composure。
As we at this place take leave of Tom Loker； we may as well say； that； having lain three weeks at the Quaker dwelling； sick with a rheumatic fever； which set in； in company with his other afflictions； Tom arose from his bed a somewhat sadder and wiser man； and； in place of slave…catching； betook himself to life in one of the new settlements； where his talents developed themselves more happily in trapping bears； wolves； and other inhabitants of the forest； in which he made himself quite a name in the land。 Tom always spoke reverently of the Quakers。 “Nice people；” he would say； “wanted to convert me； but couldn’t come it； exactly。 But； tell ye what； stranger； they do fix up a sick fellow first rate；—no mistake。 Make jist the tallest kind o’ broth and knicknacks。”
As Tom had informed them that their party would be looked for in Sandusky； it was thought prudent to divide them。 Jim； with his old mother； was forwarded separately； and a night or two after； George and Eliza； with their child； were driven privately into Sandusky； and lodged beneath a hospital roof； preparatory to taking their last passage on the lake。
Their night was now far spent； and the morning star of liberty rose fair before them！—electric word！ What is it？ Is there anything more in it than a name—a rhetorical flourish？ Why； men and women of America； does your heart’s blood thrill at that word； for which your fathers bled； and your braver mothers were willing that their noblest and best should die？
Is there anything in it glorious and dear for a nation； that is not also glorious and dear for a man？ What is freedom to a nation； but freedom to the individuals in it？ What is freedom to that young man； who sits there； with his arms folded over his broad chest； the tint of African blood in his cheek； its dark fires in his eyes；—what is freedom to George Harris？ To your fathers； freedom was the right of a nation to be a nation。 To him； it is the right of a man to be a man； and not a brute； the right to call the wife of his bosom is wife； and to protect her from lawless violence； the right to protect and educate his child； the right to have a home of his own； a religion of his own； a character of his own； unsubject to the will of another。 All these thoughts were rolling and seething in George’s breast； as he was pensively leaning his head on his hand； watching his wife； as she was adapting to her slender and pretty form the articles of man’s attire； in which it was deemed safest she should make her escape。
“Now for it；” said she； as she stood before the glass； and shook down her silky abundance of black curly hair。 “I say； George； it’s almost a pity； isn’t it；” she said； as she held up some of it； playfully；—“pity it’s all got to come off？”
George smiled sadly； and made no answer。
Eliza turned to the glass； and the scissors glittered as one long lock after another was detached from her head。
“There； now； that’ll do；” she said； taking up a hair…brush； “now for a few fancy touches。”
“There； an’t I a pretty young fellow？” she said； turning around to her husband； laughing and blushing at the same time。
“You always will be pretty； do what you will；” said George。
“What does make you so sober？” said Eliza； kneeling on one knee； and laying her hand on his。 “We are only within twenty…four hours of Canada； they say。 Only a day and a night on the lake； and then—oh； then！—”
“O； Eliza！” said George； drawing her towards him； “that is it！ Now my fate is all narrowing down to a point。 To come so near； to be almost in sight； and then lose all。 I should never live under it； Eliza。”
“Don’t fear；” said his wife； hopefully。 “The good Lord would not have brought us so far； if he didn’t mean to carry us through。 I seem to feel him with us； George。”
“You are a blessed woman； Eliza！” said George； clasping her with a convulsive grasp。 “But；—oh； tell me！ can this great mercy be for us？ Will these years and years of misery come to an end？—shall we be free？
“I am sure of it； George；” said Eliza； looking upward； while tears of hope and enthusiasm shone on her long； dark lashes。 “I feel it in me； that God is going to bring us out of bondage； this very day。”
“I will believe you； Eliza；” said George； rising suddenly up； “I will believe；—come let’s be off。 Well； indeed；” said he； holding her off at arm’s length； and looking admiringly at her； “you are a pre