He arose the next morning, with the full determination to set immediately to work.
“I must plunge myself into action, lest I wither by despair,” might have been his thought. His mother received him at the breakfast table with coldness. He told her respectfully what he intended to do during the day. She curled her lip, and begged him to proceed, without remorse or fear, to unroof the house that sheltered her head—and she trusted Heaven would give her strength to bear even that.
After breakfast, he set out, and rode to Jackson, to engage the services of a lawyer to assist him in making out the deeds, and taking the legal measures required in emancipating his people. As the distance to the city was a full day’s journey, and he had business enough to occupy the whole of the second day, he did not reach home until the evening of the third day.
He came, accompanied by a lawyer. They were both tired and hungry, but found no supper prepared, and no one to make them welcome. Mr. Sutherland went out, and enquired for his mother, and was told that the lady desired to be excused from receiving an official, that had come to make her homeless. Mark stifled a sigh; he ordered refreshments for his guest, and soon after showed him to his sleeping chamber.
The next day was a very busy, yet a very trying one. On coming down into the breakfast-room, Mark Sutherland heard with poignant sorrow that his mother had departed from the house, carrying with her many of her personal effects, as if for a long or permanent absence, and had gone to take up her abode in Cashmere. In consternation at this act, Mark Sutherland rushed out to institute further enquiries, and found in front of the house a baggage-waggon, with Billy Bolling standing up in the midst, receiving and packing away trunks, boxes, and packages, that were lifted to him by two negro men in attendance.
“In the name of Heaven, what is the meaning of all this, uncle?” asked Mark with trepidation.
Mr. Bolling stood up, took his handkerchief leisurely from his pocket, wiped his flushed, perspiring face, replaced it, and answered—
“It means, sir, that you have turned my sister out of doors; that is all it means.”
“But, uncle, my dear mother has perfect”——
“D——n it, sir, don’t call my sister mother, or me uncle! You are no son or nephew of ours; we wash our hands of you! We cast you off! We’ll have nothing to do with you!”