“Next week I leave you—I go to China,” said the servant impassively.
“Oh, I see! You are going back for a wife? All right, bring her here—you will return in two months? I do not object; bring your wife here—there is work for two to keep this place in order. The place is lonely, anyway. I’ll see the Collector of the Port, myself, and arrange your passage-papers.”
“I go to China next week: I need no papers—I never come back,” said the man with exasperating calmness and persistence.
"By God, you shall not go!" said the lawyer.
“By God, I will!” answered the heathen.
It was the first time in their experience together that the servant had used such language, or such a tone, toward his master.
The lawyer pushed his chair back, and after an instant said, quietly, “Sam, you must forgive me; I spoke quickly. I do not own you—but tell me, what have I done—why do you leave me this way, you know I need you!”
“I will not tell you why I go—you laugh.”
“No, I shall not laugh.”
“You will.”