“I do, I do,” Roden said, weeping at last like any girl. “I forgive you, Virginia—Virginia. You shall know me!”
Her eyes fixed themselves upon his face, first vacantly, then with a wonder-stricken radiance. “Mr. Jack,” she said, under her breath, “did they tell yo’? I saved her; that’s all. Yo’ needn’ say nothin’; I jess wanted to look at yo’. I saved her. ’Twas awful hot. I kin hear it roarin’ now. She come to me; she wouldn’ come to nobody else.”
“Virginia,” said Roden, “listen to me; stop talking. What do I care about Bonnibel? Child, do you want to break my heart? Listen, Virginia; I forgive you—I forgive you.”
“Do—you—really?” she said, with the old timid joy in her soft voice. “I ain’t dreamin’? Well, God’s so good to me! But I did save her. ‘Bonnibel!’ I said—‘Bonnibel!’ an’ she come right straight ter me with her pretty head tucked down. Then came all that fire on us. I thought ’twas over. But I saved her—I saved her. Please tell him that—please tell him that. I reckon he’ll sorter remember me kind fur that; don’ you, father?”
After a while her reason came again. She asked to see Bonnibel; they could bring her to the window, she said, and she would like also to give her a handful of grass.
They rolled the bed to the window, and little Hicks led Bonnibel up beside it. Roden went out himself and gathered a handful of fresh grass. I think the lad only respected his master more for the tears that ran down his cheeks. He couldn’t see very distinctly himself just then, this good little Hicks.
“Bonnibel,” said the girl, in her cooing tones—“Bonnibel.”
What was the matter? Had suffering charged some magic in that soft voice? Bonnibel turned indifferently away from the anxious hand, and rubbed her bright head with an impatient movement against one of her fore-legs.
“Oh!” said the girl, while the glad flush died out of her face, and the green blades fell from her hold upon the window-sill, “Bonnibel don’ know me any more—she don’ care. I gave my life for her, an’—an’ she don’ care.”
“Yes, she does—she does,” said Roden, frantic for her disappointment; “she’s just gorged, the little glutton! She’s been out at grass ever since you saved her, Virginia dear; that’s all.”