In a few days after this poor Molly died, as she was sitting in her arm-chair; and her young companions supposed her to be asleep, till their mother came in and perceived her altered countenance. She was laid on the bed, and the two eldest children sent to tell Anna that Molly was very ill. Bella and she came down immediately, and every thing was done to restore the pulse of life: but it had ceased to beat, and Mr. and Mrs. Campbell rejoiced that their faithful servant had not suffered more at the close of life. She had lived in their family from the age of fifteen to seventy-five, and deserved, by her strong attachment to it, every attention which they paid her; and never did a master, mistress, and servant agree so well as Molly, and both the Mr. and Mrs. Campbells had done. All the children greatly lamented her loss, and with Mrs. Meridith's permission, Anna, Bella, and Syphax attended her funeral, Mr. and Mrs. Campbell being the chief mourners. Such is a village funeral, where the parade of ostentation is not known; but the simple honours which are paid to honest integrity come from the heart. Every one had a sigh and a good word for poor Molly, as they returned from the affecting scene; rendered still more so by the unfeigned grief of the children, and the grateful testimony her master and mistress gave of her fidelity and attachment. All the people were pleased that they were not above attending her funeral themselves; and that Mrs. Meridith should let Miss Anna (who was her child now) follow, was another proof of her condescension. But Mrs. Meridith knew what was due to merit, though in humble life, and rejoiced that she had escaped from a world, where such an acknowledgment of it would have been thought ridiculous, or at least superfluous.
Anna had seen Bella so distressed at reverting to her former days, and had felt so much herself at hearing the recital, that she feared to ask Syphax if he had known similar troubles; but one day, as he was assisting her in planting a piece of the garden, he looked up, and with a dejected air said:
"Ah, Miss, this is a deal better than planting sugar-canes, with the whip over my head, and irons on my feet."
"Irons on your feet!" said she, shuddering, "poor Syphax, why was that?"
"All the slaves wear them in the West-Indies, Miss; I come from there."
"Did you know Bella, there?" asked Anna.
"No Miss, she came away before I did come there: she got good mistress before me."
"And where did you know Mrs. Meridith first?"
"In the East-Indies, Miss; I ashamed to say how I became acquainted; she be too good to me if she has not told all."