University of Virginia Library

14. CHAPTER XIV.
THE TIE BREAKS.

Clayton remained at Canema several days after the
funeral. He had been much affected by the last charge
given him by Nina, that he should care for her people; and
the scene of distress which he witnessed among them, at her
death, added to the strength of his desire to be of service
to them.

He spent some time in looking over and arranging Nina's
papers. He sealed up the letters of her different friends,
and directed them in order to be returned to the writers,
causing Harry to add to each a memorandum of the time of
her death. His heart sunk heavily when he reflected how
little it was possible for any one to do for servants left in
the uncontrolled power of a man like Tom Gordon. The
awful words of his father's decision, with regard to the
power of the master, never seemed so dreadful as now,
when he was to see this unlimited authority passed into the
hands of one whose passions were his only law. He recalled,
too, what Nina had said of the special bitterness
existing between Tom and Harry; and his heart almost
failed him when he recollected that the very step which
Nina, in her generosity, had taken to save Lisette from his
lawlessness, had been the means of placing her, without
remedy, under his power. Under the circumstances, he
could not but admire the calmness and firmness with which
Harry still continued to discharge his duties to the estate;
visiting those who were still ailing, and doing his best to
prevent their sinking into a panic which might predispose

to another attack of disease. Recollecting that Nina had
said something of some kind of a contract, by which
Harry's freedom was to be secured in case of her death, he
resolved to speak with him on the subject. As they were
together in the library, looking over the papers, Clayton
said to him:

“Harry, is there not some kind of contract, or understanding,
with the guardians of the estate, by which your
liberty was secured in case of the death of your mistress?”

“Yes,” said Harry, “there is such a paper. I was to
have my freedom on paying a certain sum, which is all paid
into five hundred dollars.”

“I will advance you that money,” said Clayton, unhesitatingly,
“if that is all that is necessary. Let me see the
paper.”

Harry produced it, and Clayton looked it over. It was
a regular contract, drawn in proper form, and with no
circumstance wanting to give it validity. Clayton, however,
knew enough of the law which regulates the condition
in which Harry stood, to know that it was of no more avail
in his case than so much blank paper. He did not like to
speak of it, but sat reading it over, weighing every word,
and dreading the moment when he should be called upon to
make some remark concerning it; knowing, as he did, that
what he had to say must dash all Harry's hopes, — the hopes
of his whole life. While he was hesitating a servant entered
and announced Mr. Jekyl; and that gentleman, with
a business-like directness which usually characterized his
movements, entered the library immediately after.

“Good-morning, Mr. Clayton,” he said, and then, nodding
patronizingly to Harry, he helped himself to a chair,
and stated his business, without further preamble.

“I have received orders from Mr. Gordon to come and
take possession of the estate and chattels of his deceased
sister, without delay.”

As Clayton sat perfectly silent, it seemed to occur to Mr.
Jekyl that a few moral reflections of a general nature would

be in etiquette on the present occasion. He therefore added,
in the tone of voice which he reserved particularly for that
style of remark:

“We have been called upon to pass through most solemn
and afflicting dispensations of Divine Providence, lately.
Mr. Clayton, these things remind us of the shortness of life,
and of the necessity of preparation for death!”

Mr. Jekyl paused, and, as Clayton still sat silent, he
went on:

“There was no will, I presume?”

“No,” said Clayton, “there was not.”

“Ah, so I supposed,” said Mr. Jekyl, who had now
recovered his worldly tone. “In that case, of course the
whole property reverts to the heir-at-law, just as I had
imagined.”

“Perhaps Mr. Jekyl would look at this paper,” said
Harry, taking his contract from the hand of Mr. Clayton,
and passing it to Mr. Jekyl; who took out his spectacles,
placed them deliberately on his sharp nose, and read the
paper through.

“Were you under the impression,” said he, to Harry,
“that this is a legal document?”

“Certainly,” said Harry. “I can bring witnesses to
prove Mr. John Gordon's signature, and Miss Nina's also.”

“O, that 's all evident enough,” said Mr. Jekyl. “I
know Mr. John Gordon's signature. But all the signatures
in the world could n't make it a valid contract. You see,
my boy,” he said, turning to Harry, “a slave, not being a
person in the eye of the law, cannot have a contract made
with him. The law, which is based on the old Roman code,
holds him, pro nullis, pro mortuis; which means, Harry, that
he 's held as nothing — as dead, inert substance. That 's
his position in law.”

“I believe,” said Harry, in a strong and bitter tone,
“that is what religious people call a Christian institution!”

“Hey?” said Mr. Jekyl, elevating his eyebrows, “what 's
that?”

Harry repeated his remark, and Mr. Jekyl replied in the
most literal manner:

“Of course it is. It is a divine ordering, and ought to
be met in a proper spirit. There 's no use, my boy, in rebellion.
Hath not the potter power over the clay, to make
one lump to honor, and another to dishonor?”

“Mr. Jekyl, I think it would be expedient to confine the
conversation simply to legal matters,” said Clayton.

“O, certainly,” said Mr. Jekyl. “And this brings me to
say that I have orders from Mr. Gordon to stay till he
comes, and keep order on the place. Also that none of
the hands shall, at any time, leave the plantation until he
arrives. I brought two or three officers with me, in case
there should be any necessity for enforcing order.”

“When will Mr. Gordon be here?” said Clayton.

“To-morrow, I believe,” said Mr. Jekyl. “Young man,”
he added, turning to Harry, “you can produce the papers
and books, and I can be attending to the accounts.”

Clayton rose and left the room, leaving Harry with the
imperturbable Mr. Jekyl, who plunged briskly into the business
of the accounts, talking to Harry with as much freedom
and composure as if he had not just been destroying the
hopes of his whole lifetime.

If, by any kind of inward clairvoyance, or sudden clearing
of his mental vision, Mr. Jekyl could have been made to
appreciate the anguish which at that moment overwhelmed
the soul of the man with whom he was dealing, we deem it
quite possible that he might have been moved to a transient
emotion of pity. Even a thorough-paced political economist
may sometimes be surprised in this way, by the near view
of a case of actual irremediable distress; but he would soon
have consoled himself by a species of mental algebra, that
the greatest good of the greatest number was nevertheless
secure; therefore there was no occasion to be troubled
about infinitesimal amounts of suffering. In this way

people can reason away every kind of distress but their
own; for it is very remarkable that even so slight an ailment
as a moderate tooth-ache will put this kind of philosophy
entirely to rout.

“It appears to me,” said Mr. Jekyl, looking at Harry,
after a while, with more attention than he had yet given
him, “that something is the matter with you, this morning.
Are n't you well?”

“In body,” said Harry, “I am well.”

“Well, what is the matter, then?” said Mr. Jekyl.

“The matter is,” said Harry, “that I have all my life
been toiling for my liberty, and thought I was coming nearer
to it every year; and now, at thirty-five years of age, I find
myself still a slave, with no hope of ever getting free!”

Mr. Jekyl perceived from the outside that there was
something the matter inside of his human brother; some
unknown quantity in the way of suffering, such as his algebra
gave no rule for ascertaining. He had a confused notion
that this was an affliction, and that when people were
in affliction they must be talked to; and he proceeded
accordingly to talk.

“My boy, this is a dispensation of Divine Providence!”

“I call it a dispensation of human tyranny!” said Harry.

“It pleased the Lord,” continued Mr. Jekyl, “to foredoom
the race of Ham —”

“Mr. Jekyl, that humbug don't go down with me! I 'm
no more of the race of Ham than you are! I 'm Colonel
Gordon's oldest son — as white as my brother, whom you
say owns me! Look at my eyes, and my hair, and say if
any of the rules about Ham pertain to me!”

“Well,” said Mr. Jekyl, “my boy, you must n't get excited.
Everything must go, you know, by general rules.
We must take that course which secures the greatest general
amount of good on the whole; and all such rules will
work hard in particular cases. Slavery is a great missionary
enterprise for civilizing and christianizing the degraded
African.”

“Wait till you see Tom Gordon's management on this
plantation,” said Harry, “and you 'll see what sort of a
christianizing institution it is! Mr. Jekyl, you know better!
You throw such talk as that in the face of your northern
visitors, and you know all the while that Sodom and
Gomorrah don't equal some of these plantations, where
nobody is anybody's husband or wife in particular! You
know all these things, and you dare talk to me about a missionary
institution! What sort of missionary institutions
are the great trading-marts, where they sell men and
women? What are the means of grace they use there?
And the dogs, and the negro-hunters! — those are for the
greatest good, too! If your soul were in our souls' stead,
you 'd see things differently.”

Mr. Jekyl was astonished, and said so. But he found a
difficulty in presenting his favorite view of the case, under
the circumstances; and we believe those ministers of the
Gospel, and elders, who entertain similar doctrines, would
gain some new views by the effort to present them to a live
man in Harry's circumstances. Mr. Jekyl never had a more
realizing sense of the difference between the abstract and
concrete.

Harry was now thoroughly roused. He had inherited the
violent and fiery passions of his father. His usual appearance
of studied calmness, and his habits of deferential
address, were superinduced; they resembled the thin crust
which coats over a flood of boiling lava, and which a burst
of the seething mass beneath can shiver in a moment. He
was now wholly desperate and reckless. He saw himself
already delivered, bound hand and foot, into the hands of a
master from whom he could expect neither mercy nor justice.
He was like one who had hung suspended over an
abyss, by grasping a wild rose; the frail and beautiful thing
was broken, and he felt himself going, with only despair
beneath him. He rose and stood the other side of the
table, his hands trembling with excitement.

“Mr. Jekyl,” he said, “it is all over with me! Twenty

years of faithful service have gone for nothing. Myself and
wife, and unborn child, are the slaves of a vile wretch! Hush,
now! I will have my say for once! I 've borne, and borne,
and borne, and it shall come out! You men who call yourselves
religious, and stand up for such tyranny, — you serpents,
you generation of vipers, — how can you escape the
damnation of hell? You keep the clothes of them who
stone Stephen! You encourage theft, and robbery, and
adultery, and you know it! You are worse than the villains
themselves, who don't pretend to justify what they do. Now,
go, tell Tom Gordon — go! I shall fight it out to the last!
I 've nothing to hope, and nothing to lose. Let him look
out! They made sport of Samson, — they put out his eyes,
— but he pulled down the temple over their heads, after all.
Look out!”

There is something awful in an outburst of violent passion.
The veins in Harry's forehead were swollen, his lips
were livid, his eyes glittered like lightning; and Mr. Jekyl
cowered before him.

“There will come a day,” said Harry, “when all this
shall be visited upon you! The measure you have filled to
us shall be filled to you double — mark my words!”

Harry spoke so loudly, in his vehemence, that Clayton
overheard him, and came behind him silently into the room.
He was pained, shocked, and astonished; and, obeying the
first instinct, he came forward and laid his hand entreatingly
on Harry's shoulder.

“My good fellow, you don't know what you are saying,”
he said.

“Yes I do,” said Harry, “and my words will be true!”

Another witness had come behind Clayton — Tom Gordon,
in his travelling-dress, with pistols at his belt. He had
ridden over after Jekyl, and had arrived in time to hear
part of Harry's frantic ravings.

“Stop!” he said, stepping into the middle of the room;
“leave that fellow to me! Now, boy,” he said, fixing his
dark and evil eye upon Harry, “you did n't know that your

master was hearing you, did you? The last time we met,
you told me I was n't your master! Now, we 'll see if
you 'll say that again! You went whimpering to your mistress,
and got her to buy Lisette, so as to keep her out of
my way! Now who owns her? — say! Do you see this?”
he said, holding up a long, lithe gutta-percha cane. “This
is what I whip dogs with, when they don't know their
place! Now, sir, down on your knees, and ask pardon for
your impudence, or I 'll thrash you within an inch of your
life!”

“I won't kneel to my younger brother!” said Harry.

With a tremendous oath, Tom struck him; and, as if a
rebound from the stroke, Harry struck back a blow so violent
as to send him stumbling across the room, against the
opposite wall; then turned, quick as thought, sprang
through the open window, climbed down the veranda,
vaulted on to Tom's horse, which stood tied at the post,
and fled as rapidly as lightning to his cottage door, where
Lisette stood at the ironing-table. He reached out his
hand, and said, “Up, quick, Lisette! Tom Gordon 's here!”
And before Tom Gordon had fairly recovered from the
dizziness into which the blow had thrown him, the fleet
blood-horse was whirling Harry and Lisette past bush and
tree, till they arrived at the place where he had twice before
met Dred.

Dred was standing there. “Even so,” he said, as the
horse stopped, and Harry and Lisette descended; “the
vision is fulfilled! Behold, the Lord shall make thee a witness
and commander to the people!”

“There 's no time to be lost,” said Harry.

“Well I know that,” said Dred. “Come, follow me!”

And before sunset of that evening Harry and Lisette were
tenants of the wild fastness in the centre of the swamp.