A moment later and the letter was perused. Whereupon Mr Beer found himself faced with material for a whole volume of new poems. He was also called upon to open his bottle of champagne in a hurry; for there was no other stimulant in the house, and very soon necessity for such a thing arose.
Henry Vivian wrote carefully and came to the tremendous truth as gently as possible; but it had to be told, and when she heard it—when the mighty fact fell upon her ear that Daniel was not dead, but alive and well and close at hand, ready to visit her on the dawn of the morrow—Minnie fainted; and Jane Beer very nearly did the same. Happily, the poet and publican kept his head. His own lady he summoned to resolution by the force of his uplifted voice. Then he loosed the champagne cork, which happily flew without hesitation, and soon had wine at the girl’s white lips.
It was long before she could listen to the end of the letter. Then the writer warned her that Daniel found it beyond human power to keep longer from her side, and that on the following morning, if a black man came thundering at the door of Hangman’s Hut, she must on no account refuse him admission.
“God’s light!” cried Mr Beer. “’Tis after midnight now. I lay the man will be dressing hisself to come to his wife within an hour or two! To think—to think that underneath that skin so black Dan Sweetland to his home came back! But ’tis a dead secret. Me an’ my missus didn’t ought to know it.”
“Tis safe enough with us, I’m sure,” said Mrs Beer, rather indignantly.
“Trust us for that. And now we’ll drain the flowing bowl to that brave hero. ‘Black but comely.’ And I wonder if he’s black all over? Ban’t likely, I should think. I hope not, for your sake, my dear. Drink again—drink to the bottom! ’Tis for him. And don’t you go for to meet him in that dress. There’s enough black ’pon Dan without you being black too.”
“That’s good advice—just like Johnny’s sense. Don’t you appear afore him like a widow woman,” said Mrs Beer. “’Twould be awful bad luck. You just put on your pretty print wi’ the lilac pattern. And, after breakfast, I’ll step over in my dandy-go-risset gown—out of respect. I must see the young youth afore he washes. ’Twill be a great adventure, I’m sure.”
She prattled on to distract Minnie’s mind from the force of this shock. The girl hardly spoke, but sat with her hand in Mrs Beer’s. Sometimes she sighed, and at last merciful tears came to her eyes and she wept.
“Now you come along of us,” said Johnny. “I ban’t going to let you bide here by yourself. You come back an’ have a good sleep with Jane, and I’ll call you at peep o’ day. Then you can rise up and step home, an’ light the fire an’ make all ready for his breakfast. ‘Obi’ be his name now, remember! And, if you’ll believe it, when first he stalked amongst us to the White Hart, as black an’ silent as a shadow in a coat, if his father didn’t half see through him! Yes, he did. He up an’ stared an’ said, ‘Why, that niggar do travel exactly like my son Dan!’ Well—the bottle’s empty. It did its duty better than many a living man have done. I feel it within me like a cheerful companion, and I hope ’tis the same with you, ladies. Now, let’s be going.”